Ruby trudges back towards town, her trophy clutched in one gloved hand and an old rifle slung over her shoulder. The skull of a beowolf would net her enough money to support her father through the week, so she supposes she is thankful for the pack which stalked her to her mother's grave. They had crept up close, awaiting the perfect moment to strike, but Ruby had been ready for them. No matter the year, there was always a sadness which clung to her on this day – the anniversary of her mother's passing, so such confrontations were inevitable, and therefore expected.
The freezing wind howls, its force shaking the branches of nearby pine trees and its chill like little knives on the bare skin of her cheek. Ruby pulls up the hood of her cloak, huddling into its warmth. Winters are always very cold this far north of the City of Vale, but that doesn't mean that the frigid winds are a welcome occurrence. She wishes she had the radiative warmth of a red dust crystal to keep in her palm, but dust was expensive, and her family was barely scraping by as it is.
Once she reaches the walls of the town proper, Ruby makes her way to the market to exchange her kill for cash. It's no secret that the bones of Grimm are exceedingly tough despite their light weight, so they are a sought-after commodity by weapons and armor manufacturers. Despite her occasional ability to kill one of these beasts, Ruby has not found a way to scrape together enough money to purchase any of these products. She has her father to take care of, after all. Perhaps, when her sister comes back as a trained huntress, she can afford to buy Ruby the essentials.
It had been a little over a year since Yang had departed for the prestigious Beacon Academy – on a full scholarship, no less. She had always been the golden child of the family, as well as their little town in the rural northern wildlands of Vale. It seemed as if everything went so easily for her, with opportunities and accolades practically falling into her lap. Bitter jealousy rises to the surface as these thoughts course through her head, and Ruby lingers on the emotion – tempted towards its acrid intensity like a moth to a flame.
Ruby knows she shouldn't indulge herself in the resentful cocktail of indignation served up by her subconscious. Its shameful insistence that she should have been chosen over her sister for the privilege of attending Beacon Academy wouldn't solve anything. Nevertheless, she drinks deep, letting the negativity poison her further with every passing moment. The questions swirl in her thoughts, the foremost among them a simple: Why her? Why not me?
It is then that the logical part of her mind, the portion which did not have the demeanor of a petulant toddler, cuts in. What is the point of focusing on some fantasy of her going to Beacon which would never come to pass? What would remaining in the company of her most vindictive emotions do but allow the envy to slowly seep into her everyday thoughts, until nothing remained but hate? She is happy for Yang, truly, and she would cheer her on with a smile from her vantage point here. That is the sensible thing to do.
A sigh, and Ruby returns to reality from her contemplation of events long past. She sells her trophy for 150 lien, haggling the price up from a hundred. She cheerily thanks the shopkeep, holding out a gloved hand for the cards to be pressed into, but just as she is about to receive her payment, a sudden gunshot rings out in the distance outside of town. It came from the west. Father. Ruby's eyes widen, and she snatches the stack of lien from the merchant before breaking into a sprint.
Ruby hurtles toward the family home, activating her semblance to push her there faster. All that occupies her mind in these scant few moments are pleas to the gods that her bedridden father be okay. Her destination surges into view, and she sees that one of the windows has been broken in.
With adrenaline-fueled strength, Ruby breaks down the door with a snow-covered boot. Inside is a bloody mass of Grimm flesh, which disintegrates into a black mist upon her entry, leaving only the bones of the creature behind. Ruby lets out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Her father, Taiyang, is safe. He smiles sheepishly at Ruby.
"I bet you're glad I keep this old contraption by my bedside now, huh?" he asks, patting the weapon now discarded on the floor.
"Yeah…" Ruby replies with a small chuckle, before her smile fades gradually. The silence hangs in the air for a few moments, awkward and stagnant, neither of them wanting to broach the topic. Eventually, Ruby gathers her resolve.
"You were thinking about mom again, weren't you?" she asks, picking a spot on the ground to direct her focus. She couldn't make eye contact, not now. She needs to remain calm; she does not know if there are more Grimm in the vicinity. Granted, they aren't common this close to town, but one can never be too careful. Today had shown that.
"Yes," Taiyang admits, looking down at the meshed hands in his lap. "It was only for a little while. I know I shouldn't have taken the risk, but… I couldn't go another year locking away her memory."
"I understand, dad. I really do, but just, please. Keep yourself in check. You and Yang're all that I have left," Ruby responds, taking a deep breath before equipping herself with one of her sunbeam smiles once again. "I love you, dad. And I'll always be here. You can count on that."
Taiyang nods, opening his arms for a hug, and Ruby reciprocates, a lump forming in her throat despite her best efforts. That certainty was a fragile illusion, in truth. Just like her smile. But she couldn't dwell on this. Instead, she thinks of happy things, submerging herself within them, deluding herself into a joyful reverie. When she pulls back, the mask of elated bliss is firmly in place, twisting her features into the picture of a cheerful young lady.
"Now, how about we get this place cleaned up!" she suggests, already hopping up to go retrieve the broom. Forced contentment was her shelter and her prison. Armor for herself and those she held dear, but a spear through her heart, bleeding her dry with every day she must wear it. One day, she would break, but all she knew was that that day could not be today.
The next morning, Ruby brings breakfast to Taiyang's bedside, as she does every day. Today, however, there was a pressing matter which she needs to discuss with him.
"Dad, I don't think that we can stay here," she begins, gauging her father's reaction before continuing. "It's too dangerous, and I can see how having to shut mom out from your thoughts is slowly killing you. We'd be much safer within the walls of the city. I know that this is a big ask, and you said that you'd wait for her, but dad…"
"I know," Taiyang interjects. "She's not coming back, is she?" he asks, a defeated sadness in his gaze as he looks up at his daughter.
"I'm sorry. I wish I could fix things," Ruby responds, though she doesn't quite know what she is apologizing for. A few moments of silence pass, before Taiyang speaks again:
"I guess this means I need to buy us train tickets to Vale, huh?" he chuckles, scratching the back of his head in a nervous gesture.
"I'm sure you can manage. And, thank you, dad. I can't even begin to tell you how scared I was yesterday, when I heard that gunshot from outside of town…"
"Aren't you glad that I can still take care of myself – more or less? Besides, I promised your mother I wouldn't leave the both of you alone in this world. Not until I'm old and grey," Taiyang smiles, tucking a stray hair behind Ruby's ear. Ruby nods, a slight smile finding its way to her lips in a quiet moment of genuine contentment. Taiyang had never broken a promise to her; his word was ironclad, and the trust which grew out of that even moreso.
"I know, papa," Ruby replies, the old endearment slipping out in this moment of comfort. Taiyang chuckles, patting her head like he used to do back when she had only just learned how to walk. Ruby normally would have swatted the hand away, but she felt like her father needs this gesture, if only to remind him that she is still his little girl. And maybe she needs it, too. To remind her that he is still here for her, unconditionally.
After breakfast, Ruby packs their possessions. They wouldn't be selling the house, so she only chooses to bring the essentials. As she stuffs some clothes into one of their suitcases, Taiyang is purchasing the train tickets on the one Scroll that they could afford.
"Alright, we're all set to take the train to Vale this evening. I couldn't get a hold of Yang, but I'm sure that we can call her once we get there," Taiyang says, placing the Scroll on the nightstand.
"Nice. Thanks, dad," Ruby replies with some strain. She's trying to force the buckles of her overstuffed suitcase closed, but they won't latch. Ruby makes a frustrated noise, then resorts to sitting on the lid of the luggage to urge its contents to compress further. A couple moments, and she reaches down, managing to fasten the halves of her poor, weathered old suitcase together. Now, she needs to do a once-over of the house to make sure that they aren't leaving behind anything essential.
Ruby searches the single-story dwelling, poking her head into the room at the far end of the hall. What had been Taiyang and her mother's room before the accident was tidied, its barren surfaces collecting dust. No one had slept there, nor had they even ventured into its space since the day Yang and Ruby cleared it of its contents all those years ago. Ruby sighs. Why had she opened this door? Nothing remained here but ghosts. She shakes her head, shutting herself out of the memories contained within.
Next is Ruby and Yang's shared room, one half of which had been empty since Yang's departure. Ruby hadn't touched a single one of her sister's possessions in that time, even as it became increasingly clear that surprise visits from her sibling were out of the question. Whether it was out of some sense of respect or fear of Yang's ire, Ruby did not know. She scans the space, noting the contrast between the cluttered mess on her side of the room, and the neat, hollowed-out vacancy of Yang's. There wouldn't be anything of value that Yang left in their little hovel of a home; her new life was at Beacon Academy. Once again, Ruby shuts the door with a soft click.
Skipping the bathroom, Ruby walks back into the main room of the house, but halts suddenly beside one of the wooden support beams. Carved into its flesh are various markings, with signatures painted alongside each of the indentations. Closest to the ground, scrawled in big, red handwriting is 'Ruby, age 5', and the marks continue upward, forming a chart of the sisters' growth over the years. Ruby runs her fingers across the latest of the lines at eye level. From birth, this home had been all Ruby knew, each dent and stain their own. And now she had to say goodbye. She swallows the lump forming in her throat, along with the feeling.
It is sunset when Ruby and Taiyang arrive at the train station. It's crowded in the lobby, with streams of passengers headed every which way. The train platform, however, is eerily quiet. Ruby understands, of course; most people are apprehensive about taking trains at night. This is due to a multitude of factors, including but not limited to the belief that Grimm attacks are more likely to occur at night and the increased difficulty of defending against the midnight black creatures in the dark. The tickets were cheap, though, so Ruby cannot complain.
She waits, standing next to where she had seated her father on a wooden bench – her breath visible in the frigid open air of the platform. Her foot taps on the concrete impatiently, but it is not long before she spots the train speeding towards the station from the south. After all, she had found it hard to rip her eyes from the horizon since their arrival here. The locomotive eases into the station, its arrival bringing with it the smell of heavy fuel oil and burnt red dust crystals. Nonetheless, Ruby takes one last deep breath before boarding.
Stepping onto the train, Ruby helps her father settle into his seat, before stowing their luggage in the overhead compartment. Afterward, she slides into her seat across from him, staring out the window. It is not long before the train departs, the walls of the station platform giving way to the snowy wilderness beyond. Ruby can't help but watch as their town recedes into the distance, getting smaller and smaller until it is nothing but a dot on the horizon. A tear escapes down her cheek, only to be quickly wiped away. That was the extent of the mourning she could allow herself. It was an intense grief from the depths of her soul, condensed into a single moment – a lapse in her restraint emblematic of her weakness. Soon, though, her father would be safe, and that was all that mattered.
