Five seconds into riding at the back of Weiss' car, Yang already had two major problems. Number one: the vehicle smelled like 50 perfume aisles mixed all together. If she didn't know better, she would've assumed Weiss had single-handedly punched a hole through the ozone layer. Number two: she was clearly not welcome here in the first place, and the squint of Weiss' eyes made sure to remind her of that.

Earlier, she'd asked, "Uh, what is she doing here?" But before she could come up with a snarky response, Blake had cut in between them, giving Weiss a look of her own. For a minute or so, the two communicated purely through eye contact and vague eyebrow wiggles — the way best friends did whenever company was around. Much to Weiss' annoyance, Blake had won that battle and Yang scored a seat behind them.

Believe her, she wasn't very happy about the situation either. The thought of jumping off had crossed her mind several times, but today was her chance to watch Blake in action, this time as a viewer.

Over at the driver's seat, Weiss had similar thoughts. If Blake weren't inside the car right now, she would've swerved off of a bridge and jumped at the last second.

Just what was she thinking, bringing Yang along and being buddy-buddy with her? Blake had already beaten her, they'd gathered enough attention, she'd served her purpose. She was supposed to be history by now — a discarded candy wrapper. But Blake kept on insisting that befriending 'The Golden Dragon' would make for good rep, hence the reason the big oaf was at the backseat.

"Do you guys have an aux cord?"

"No. But if I did, I still wouldn't share with you."

The awkward silence stretched all the way to the arena with Blake feeling torn between the two. She was thankful she was a boxer and not a referee. Having to deal with this all day would've made all the hairs on her head fall off — simultaneously.

Once they made their way inside, Yang occupied herself with her phone as she waited for Blake to finish her preparations. She was lucky they'd arrived early; otherwise, she would've been stuck with The Bad Seats™. And she knew all about those. Her sister had shared tales of kids kicking her seat and gum sticking onto her hoodie. Yang was thankful she didn't have to deal with those today.

At the sound of the announcer's voice, she pried her eyes off of the device and focused on her friend, who was now dressed in her boxing attire. Next to her was Weiss, offering last few bits of advice before the fight.

For a moment, when the fighters made their way to the center of the ring, people went quiet, almost as if they were saying their final prayers of support for the worthy champion. As soon as they heard a ding, the referee stepped back and all the cheers meshed into one loud explosion. Yang had never noticed it before, but now that she was squished between all these strangers, their voices alone made the surface vibrate.

From what she'd gathered through the news in the last few weeks, this was a fight everyone had been anticipating. The Shadow Boxer vs The Iron Fist. It was a rematch set three years after their last meeting. Maritia, her opponent, had suffered a painful loss from Blake once, and a bit of Yang wanted to see how she handles Blake now.

After all, loss fueled the soul.

Loss, given enough time, could change people like the flip of a coin. It swallowed them whole.

And that's exactly what terrified Blake.

Right in front of her, Maritia stood, an irritated smile revealing some of her missing teeth. "I've waited for so long…"

With the speed of a cheetah, she sprinted, her brown hair flying behind her. When Blake ducked, a red glove slammed against her rib, knocking her to the side. Cracking her neck, Maritia took a full swing at her. That punch was followed by another and another, weighing down on Blake like a sack of bricks. She had no desire in giving her opponent a second to rest, much less breathe.

The confused look on Blake's face only made Maritia all the more furious. Her nostrils flared as her face grew red. Stomping closer, she grabbed a fistful of Blake's ear, yanking at it to rip it off her skull. A second later, the referee broke them apart and gave her a warning. But who cared about that shit?

"What's the matter? Why aren't you fighting me?!" she growled.

Again, Blake could only stare at her — eyes ridden with sadness and betrayal. Her arms were raised, but so far, her opponent has been taking the lead in offense.

Once it clicked for her, Maritia's face morphed into a cocky grin.

"You didn't think I would actually forgive you, right?" When she received no response, she laughed, placing a hand on her hip. "You didn't think the world would forgive The Shadow Boxer… did you?"

There were three dings, the referee motioning for them to engage in combat. Each time they made contact, Blake had a beating. It was hard to watch. As the people in the arena howled and clapped for more, Yang felt a sharp twist in her stomach. She'd been hoping for Maritia to gain the upperhand at first, so why…

Why did this feel so wrong?

It wasn't until the second half of the match that Blake managed to turn the tables around, barely. By the end of it, she was clinging to the ropes, hoping that Maritia would no longer stand. A few more hits and her legs were about to give. She just wanted it to end.

When the referee reached zero and went up to raise her arm, all the fighting spirit in her body dissipated. Her knees buckled as she fell limp in Weiss' arms.

"Promise me you'll get lots of rest later," she said while supporting Blake in a hug. "No more reading late at night." There was a weak nod against her shoulder, along with ragged breaths she couldn't tell apart from sobs. Her eyes lowered. "I'll… I'll get you more books to read from your favorite store, but that'll have to wait until tomorrow. Again, just rest, okay? You've earned it, Blake."

The ride home was completely silent. Neither Yang or Weiss wanted to risk upsetting Blake even more. The entire time, they snuck glances at her as she stared at the window, contemplating her last fight. Even if they wanted to cheer her up, neither were sure of how to say anything. They weren't sure if any amount of optimism could brighten the situation at all.

Upon arrival at Blake's house, she and Yang watched as Weiss carried her bags inside. It felt like the perfect opportunity to say everything and nothing at the same time. For once in her life, Yang was at a complete loss for words. All she knew was that Blake had been positively looking forward to the match, even inviting her to show off, maybe have some fun. However, within the first round, Blake had been shut down. And despite not being able to pinpoint the cause for this, Yang had seen the light fade in Blake's eyes after Maritia made the first move.

Right now, she had no clue what was running through that girl's head. That was until she spoke.

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

Surprised by the sudden apology, Yang rummaged her brain for a proper response. "No, it's… it's okay," she mumbled.

Damn it, was that all she could say? It was moments like these she wished she had Ruby's cheerful aura — it was the type that lit up the room and took away any sad thoughts a person might've had. She was bubbly and soft, much like a puppy that had too much energy.

Yang was a bit more on the extreme side of things — explosives, racing, adrenaline. She was a stark contrast to her sister. While she was the center of attention at parties, Ruby was the drunk girl in the bathroom that gave you pep talk. And right now, Blake needed the latter.

Sensing the uncomfortable aura surrounding Yang, Blake spoke up. "I still have some ice cream in the freezer. It was for us to celebrate, but I'm not really up for it anymore. We can still have a short chat while we eat though, if… if you want to stick around."

"Are you sure?" Yang asked, not minding if Blake wanted some space for the meantime.

"Yes, I'm sure." From the passenger seat, Blake turned to smile at her reassuringly. "I'd love the company," she lied. The last thing she wanted when she was in a bad mood was someone there to see her in such a state. Blake was a private person — much of her emotions hidden with a straight face. It proved to be beneficial, in and out of the ring. That way, she couldn't be analyzed, touched, hurt.

Keeping to herself has been the only thing that's made her safe.

Today was an exception. She feared the idea of being left by herself, given the situation. It was much too dangerous — depressing. The girl behind her seemed to realize that, too. If anything, Blake could actually use a little fireworks in her life even if it were just for today. Currently, Yang could serve as the perfect distraction.

When Weiss came back, she was surprised to see the pair getting out of the car.

"What's the matter? Don't want a ride home?" she directed at Yang, though it sounded more like a demand than a question.

"She invited me over and I said yes," Yang replied casually.

There wasn't any of the usual sharpness in Weiss' eyes. In fact, she looked flabbergasted, like Yang had just told her they were long lost sisters. Quickly regaining her composure, she searched Yang from top to bottom to detect any signs of a lie. Glancing back, her eyes widened when she realized Blake was waiting for her guest at the front porch. She looked back and forth between them before settling with a warning of sorts.

She stepped closer to Yang, looking her straight in the eyes. "I hope you know what you're doing," she stressed, trying not to have her words come across as a plea, though her eyes gave away the fact that she was genuinely worried about her friend.

As Yang made her way next to Blake, Weiss went back in her car and sent them a wave. "Remember: if she tries anything, my speed dial is 1, okay? Or better yet, speed dial the cops!"

Yang rolled her eyes at the unnecessary reminder, but was happy to hear a giggle from Blake. "Hey, Ice Queen, want to feel me up for any weapons before you go?" When Weiss abruptly stopped her car in the middle of the driveway, she quickly retorted. "I was joking!"

"You better be, or you'll be a burnt lizard by tomorrow!"

Yang raised an eyebrow at Blake.

"It's cuz you're The Golden Dragon."

"Funny girl, eh?" She chuckled, and as soon as Weiss was out of view, Blake led her inside.

'Simple' was the best word to describe her house. White and beige adorned the walls, blending perfectly with the minimalist furniture. What caught her attention was a picture frame of Blake and Weiss delicately displayed in the living room. Other than that, the place lacked any sort of indication that someone lived here. It was like a freshly decorated room from a magazine, waiting for someone to paint its walls with splashy colors.

Upon closer inspection of the picture frame, she saw that they were in a boxing ring — with Blake carrying Weiss on her shoulders, and Weiss nearly toppling over, arms extended to break her fall.

"She sneezed when the flash came on." Blake softly chuckled as she recalled the memory of Weiss being blinded by a bright light. It would've been more believable if Yang had seen just how strong that flash was. Seriously, it was like that guy had a lighthouse for a camera. "We can never have a good picture together."

"It's still a good remembrance," Yang said, having a small grin of her own. She noted how Blake was slouched in the picture, hardly containing her laughter. "At least one of you seemed happy. Any chance I could get a copy of this?"

"So you could blackmail my one and only coach? I don't think so," Blake teased. She and Weiss already made a deal to only have two physical copies of this — one for each of their homes. Her best friend always loved to match; she'd practically bought half of the clothes for Blake's closet. She'd always found it endearing. "Come on, ice cream's this way," she said as Yang trailed behind her.

Reaching for the cabinets, she placed two bowls on the table along with a pair of spoons. While Yang took a seat, she grabbed the container, feeling the ice stick to her fingertips.

"Let's save some for Weiss," Yang suggested as Blake transferred scoops of the chilly dessert into their bowls.

"Growing a soft spot for the Ice Queen?" she asked before sliding Yang's bowl in front of her.

"Not really," she admitted, bringing a spoonful to her mouth. After licking her lips clean, she continued, "I just want to see if ice cream makes her sneeze, too."

When she heard Blake snort at the unexpected joke, she found herself relaxing. But the same couldn't be applied to her companion.

After placing the container back in the freezer, she sat next to Yang. In all honesty, she didn't feel like eating ice cream or anything for that matter. She'd initially planned on locking herself in her room for the rest of the night, but so as not to draw concern from her guest, she welcomed the treat.

Unfortunately, Blake didn't do well on hiding her emotions at the comfort of her own home — this was her safe space. Usually, by now, she'd have been 30 pages into the latest novel. Once she reached the end of the book, she'd have forgotten about whatever it was that bothered her, even if momentarily. Looking back, the only other person who's made it inside her house was Weiss, and even that was rare.

Needless to say, this was something she wasn't accustomed to.

A soft sigh from her lips caught Yang's attention.

Gently, she nudged her shoulder. "Your, uh, ice cream's melting."

"Right."

When it appeared that Blake hadn't fully registered her words, she continued to stir the goop lazilly, eyes lowered. If it weren't for the way she looked like she was about to fall asleep, Yang would've cracked a joke or offered to talk about what happened earlier. But then again… could she even ask about that?

"Hey, do you… wanna go to bed?" she asked instead. "You could prolly use the extra rest."

It wasn't up for debate. Blake didn't have the energy for that anyway. She nodded before walking to the sink, carrying the used utensils with her.

"Oh, I was thinking maybe I could do the dishes? So you could brush your teeth, y'know, and get into your pajamjams?"

"My pajamjams," Blake repeated.

"Or well, pajamas, whatever you like to call them."

Dammit, she hadn't meant to say that last word. It only slipped cuz of her sister's mispronunciation of it as a kid, which had led to her calling it that from then on. Every night, 'Hey, Rubes, let's get you into your pajamjams!' It was mildly embarrassing calling it that for someone her current age, but for some reason, she didn't mind it when a smile tugged at Blake's lips.

"There's soap in that cabinet," she said as she pointed at the one nearest to the sink. Before she made her way to her room, she paused and turned to Yang. "Thank you."

It was no problem; that was the very least she could do for Blake. Yang also didn't want to entertain the idea of having someone clean up for her, especially if they were visibly exhausted. Once the dishes were sparkly clean, she made sure to dry and return them to where Blake had fetched them from earlier. After that whole ordeal was done, her feet led her to Blake, who'd already changed into a loose nightgown.

"Ready to go night-night?"

"Saying it like that sounds like you're gonna knock me out."

"I mean, I totally could, but I've been informed you have Weiss on speed dial." The two shared a brief laugh that had the air of tension evaporating momentarily. "Soooo, I should get going?"

Feeling amused, Blake asked, "Are you telling me that or are you asking me?"

"To be honest? I'm not sure. I don't really have my pajamjams with me, so..." Yang played off her uncertainty with yet another joke. It was the same one as before, but she didn't have time to wrack her brain for a new one; not when she's been put on the spot like that.

It's true that it was getting late, but besides that, her concern for Blake hadn't lessened since they got out of the car. She couldn't just ditch her right now. Although would it really be okay for her to stay a little longer?

Her eyes searched Blake's amber ones for answers.

She didn't understand why it mattered so much to her that this girl would sleep peacefully tonight. What's even more confusing was the gut-wrenching feeling she had this afternoon while watching her friend's struggle in the ring.

As a boxer, you had to be professional, but there were a few instances where you meet low-lifes who don't think that way. Because of that, some fights turned personal. And what she saw out there today, it was deeply coated with hate and ruthlessness — something that must've had to do with Blake's past.

Yang bit her lip, contemplating her next words.

If she'd been the one in the ring, she wouldn't have...

"I…" Brushing off any remnants of hesitation, Yang gave her a determined look. "I don't want you to be alone right now."

She'd done it. Saying it out loud was such a huge wave of relief that allowed her to finally unclench her fist. She hadn't even noticed how tight her grip was on the hem of her shirt. As she let out an exhale, the discomfort she'd been feeling was able to escape, and her shoulders dropped into a relaxed state.

All night, she'd been debating whether or not to bring it up. After all, they'd only just met. Starting this conversation would've been jarring and invasive — it might even risk Blake shutting her off completely. That fact only became more apparent when she saw amber eyes widen.

As she waited for a response, seedlings of doubt grew from the deep corners of her mind. A minute of her declaration hanging in the air, and her resolve had nearly crumbled under the weight of the tension.

Stupid, stupid! What was I thinking?

"I - I'm sorry. I should've asked first. I can go home and-"

"You can sleep on the top bunk."

"...the top what?"

Blake nodded in the direction of her room. Following closely was Yang, who was surprised to see that there was indeed a bunk bed resting against the wall. After her friend picked up one of the pillows from the bottom bunk, she placed it on the top and gave it a good pat.

"You have a roommate?"

Blake shook her head. "This is Weiss and her sister's. Money's been tight, so they gave me this when I moved in."

"Really?" Yang observed the entirety of the room. Like all of the other areas in the house, there wasn't anything noteworthy, save for a wooden bookshelf next to the bed that was filled to the brim with books of all sizes and colors. "If that's the case, you've got me fooled. I thought for a minute this was your second house or something."

"Funny you say that when everything I have, I owe to Weiss…" Blake stopped in the middle of preparing the blankets to sit on the edge of her bed, contemplating the heavy reality behind her words. Her voice dropped to a serious tone, showing that there wasn't a joke or any exaggeration; it was nothing but the truth. Caressing the smooth fabric of the sheets, she scanned the room for what seemed to be the hundredth time upon moving in, still feeling as out of touch and unfamiliar within its walls as the first day. "This house, this bed, and all those books… everything."

Yang carefully walked over and found a seat next to her. "Why is that? If you don't mind me asking."

"Yang…" She looked up to meet her eyes, wondering if she had the heart to break the blissfully innocent picture Yang had of her. Then, with a small voice, she asked, "Have you heard the story of The Shadow Boxer?"

When Yang shook her head, she figured she might as well say it now, as avoiding the topic would've been the same as lying to her. And she couldn't do that, especially not when Yang has been the only person who's made it this far into her house. Moreover, Blake hasn't forgotten about her little confession at the kitchen earlier. As far as she knew, Yang seemed to be genuine in pursuing a friendship with her. And God knows how long she hadn't been able to make one of those.

After mentally preparing herself, she began.

"When I was a kid, I thought I knew everything. I was very passionate, feeling like I could do anything so long as I knew it to be right." She paused, hesitating to continue for fear of not being able to stop once the ball got rolling, but a gentle hand on her back was the little push she needed. "My first coach… he taught me how to fight. And it felt so good learning about this part of myself. I became a rising legend, and they made a unanimous decision of making me a representative for all faunus… just like he wanted."

Yang's eyes widened at the revelation. She was well-aware of their situation with the faunus, thus she knew what that meant for Blake. Needless to say, it wasn't a position for a kid, getting caught between a war at such a young age.

She continued to tell her story — how she unlocked new techniques and drills, and fought bigger opponents. It was exhilarating. It was more than anything her father had ever taught her. Although, looking back, maybe she should've listened to him more. If she'd only stopped and paid attention to a single word of his advice, that could've saved her a lot of trouble.

But who had time to listen as a kid? Tunnel vision had been her greatest enemy. Once she zeroed in on what mattered most to her, she didn't have time for discussions or objections. Equipped only with her gut feeling, she'd go all in, never minding the possible consequences. That's what the heroes in the books did, right? Who would've guessed she'd been far from that course since the beginning?

Blake liked to believe that people were inherently good. No one was born to be a villain, because at one point in their lives, everyone used to listen to lullabies, take a sip of mom's soup, and sleep with the nightlight on. The only reason they turned 'bad' was because life was such a long, perilous path — so much so that it wasn't a matter of losing one's way, it was more of not having someone to guide them. Not everyone was fortunate to be greeted with a life of peace, and Blake had been one of those people.

That was the only explanation she could come up with to provide some sort of a defense for her past self, but looking it that way only made her feel more of a coward. She'd grown tired of that, so she'd made up her mind to remove the sugarcoating and speak only the truth.

"Years passed and… I couldn't tell the difference between right or wrong anymore. I'd only realized it when-" Her voice hitched in her throat. "I almost… I…"

She blinked away the tears in her eyes, and as soon as she opened them up, there was thick red blood trickling down her trembling hands. Sirens from the ambulance grew louder, mixing with the noise of the crowd. Her mouth, dry and scratchy, hung open to say something when the paramedics carried the girl onto their stretcher. By the time she had the beginning of a word on the tip of her tongue, they'd slammed the ambulance doors on her. She'd flinched, but when she looked up, she hadn't even noticed she was back inside.

There was a man shaking her hand, but his burly voice couldn't reach her with the overwhelming ringing in her ears. There were flashes here and there, shouts of glee filling the night air. The whole stadium was cheering, but nothing could've brought her back from the abrupt disconnection. She watched her back as though she were another passerby, lacking any control of her body's actions.

With another blink, she was brought back to the present. Her hands lacked the familiar red, but they were pale as paper and shaking on her lap. She closed her eyes as a stream of cool tears ran against her reddening cheeks. Biting her lip, she took a shaky exhale in an attempt to regain some sense of stability and composure, but doing so only made a vein throb on her temple. Much like her emotions, it threatened to burst and flood the room.

God, it was so much harder than she thought...

While grasping onto a fleeting memory, three more were violently shoving her around, making her crash into a wall of glass she recognized as atonement for her sins. Somewhere in the middle of her story, her tongue had rolled back, as if her body had sensed that saying more would've brought her greater pain, which she wasn't sure if it was possible.

When she caught Yang's eyes trained on her, eyebrows furrowed in sympathy, she saw a similar glint of conflict from within. It wasn't the type that she had right now — one that was set ablaze and devouring her soul. Yang's was controlled and calming, like the crackling of firewood in a chimney... like she was used to this.

By then, she understood that Yang wasn't silent because of her discomfort. Talking would've disrupted whatever Blake had to say, so in spite of the urge, she merely kept her hand firm against her back in a show of unwavering support. If it weren't for that, Blake wouldn't have gotten to the memory that stung the most.

"When they announced me as the winner, the guilt nearly had my lunch spill from my mouth. They handed me the champion's belt, but I couldn't see the gold." And that's when she couldn't take it anymore. Pain resurfaced in a waterfall of memories she hadn't been ready to remember. As she buried her face in her hands, she sobbed, her voice cracking. "I couldn't see past the blood!"

Perhaps she meant that last part both literally and metaphorically, because up until now, she couldn't think of a happy memory from her earlier years — all had been tainted with a dark crimson and just the thought of it wanted to make her gag. How vile and vicious had she been? Just a few years ago, she hated people like that. Because that's who she was; she stood up for what's right and she took pride in that. So turning out to be one of those people, the accusations they cast at her for being the same… it never felt so real until that incident.

For the longest time, she'd avoided questions about it to save her the trouble of having another anxiety attack, like the one she was having right now. When faced with potential friends, she'd put up a front to look like she'd been living a normal life and have her answers prepared. Weiss had been able to see through that, although she never forced her to open up out of respect for her privacy. But a person could only hold so much grief by themself.

She'd known that one day, all of it would spill out in one continuous burst. And she was right.

"On our way home, I couldn't stop crying. Do you know what my coach told me?" She paused, recalling his words from the last day she saw him. "'Next time, finish the job.'"

That was all she could say for tonight. All the energy she had was surely depleted by now. Physical exhaustion was one thing, an emotional turmoil was another. Adding to that was the regret bubbling in her chest when she realized she shouldn't have said anything; she should've stopped at the mention of the house and the bed. There had been a lot she was supposed to do but couldn't. Even before she left her family, she'd been constantly failing herself time and time again.

Blake Belladonna was a quiet person. But right now, she'd just exposed a deep scar within herself — something she hasn't healed from and could be used against her. At least, that's what she thought Yang would do with the information, but Yang hadn't spoken since the beginning, so there was no telling what she had in mind. At the very least, she'd expected a bit of distance and unease, even disgust and fear.

Instead, Yang started with a gentle voice.

"Hey." Slowly, she placed a hand on her shoulder. "I can't say I fully understand what you're going through, but what I do understand is that it takes so much from you. To acknowledge your mistake and pull yourself away from that? That's something only the bravest of people can do. And I mean that."

Blake had nearly flinched when Yang reached out, as she'd anticipated a violent response; people were so fond of those. What she hadn't expected were the words of encouragement that rolled from her lips so easily. She knew if they'd swapped places, she would've felt a little off. This reaction was… unfamiliar. But she wasn't opposed to it.

Taking a moment to linger in the warmth of this new feeling, she gave Yang a small smile before wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.

"I was so happy earlier. Maritia was one of the few that accepted my apology." As she said that, she saw a flash of herself knocking Maritia's teeth out despite the ringing of the bell. "Unfortunately, things didn't really turn out as planned." Perhaps she'd been naive to assume she'd actually been forgiven. She laughed out of self-pity.

Yang placed a hand on her chin as she chose her next words wisely. The concept was obvious to her — common sense, even — but she didn't know if Blake's ever heard of this before, so she decided to give it a shot. Once she'd composed her final words of advice, she leaned back with her hands on the bed and sat comfortably, like they were about to make casual talk.

"Well… that's how it always starts off doesn't it? You say and do things you don't mean, but that doesn't make you a bad person. Because if it did, then there wouldn't be good people in the world." She watched Blake mull over her words, like she was putting puzzle pieces together from a new perspective, then she spoke in a hushed voice. "Those who struggle to unlearn years of hate… they deserve rest, too." When Blake sniffled, Yang quickly added, "And probably a cup of warm tea."

"Maybe tomorrow." She giggled, wiping the last wave of tears on her cheeks.

"Tomorrow then." Gently, she pressed her hand against the back of Blake's ear, feeling its soft fur on her palm as she caressed. All day, her right ear had been droopy, resting on her head after nearly being ripped off. But right now, it was relaxed under her fingers, almost as if welcoming the generous show of affection. And maybe she was imagining it, but it seemed like Blake was subtly leaning into the touch.

"Yang?"

Yang pulled her hand away. "Ah, my bad. It's a habit I picked up from Ruby, y'know? I always gave her pats, so…"

"I didn't tell you to stop," she said as her face softened.

Still fresh from crying, she managed to give Yang a smile of appreciation, followed by a pleased hum, which Yang happily returned. At first, she'd prepared for the worst, but tonight proved to be a new chapter of her book with an ending she wasn't quite sure of. All she knew was that she was worn out from today's events and so was Yang.

When her guest was all set in bed, Blake flickered off the lights. And instead of finding comfort in her sheets, she found it radiating from the person resting on the top bunk. For the first time ever, someone was in her house, on her bed, sleeping.

Her first sleepover. This was… nice.

If you'd told her this would happen before, she would've rolled her eyes and laughed. She'd been alienated for so long, so why would people start taking an interest in her now? Then again, maybe there wasn't a deadline for making friends. Blake stared at the mattress above her before turning to her side to hide a smile.

For Yang to stay in the same room as her despite the knowledge she'd gained about her past… that meant more to Blake than any gift someone could offer her. And she doubted she would ever forget about this night.

Unbeknownst to her, that was exactly why Yang wanted to stay.

The next morning, things were much lighter and carefree. There was enough sunlight slipping from the curtains to make her flutter her eyes open, and when she did, she was met by a messy mop of blonde hair.

In a hoarse voice, she spoke, "I forgot to ask where you kept the tea." Blake chuckled at what was obviously not her usual morning voice. "I also forgot to brush my teeth last night. I don't know how Ruby manages to eat a whole tub without getting tonsillitis." Blake put a hand on her mouth, laughing even more at the admission. "Oh and, speaking of the lil twerp, we can hang out with her and Weiss a few days from now. If! You're fully-rested and if you have nothing to do. Don't worry, though. I can wait, so-"

She noticed both of Blake's ears were finally up, giving away her answer before she could even open her mouth. But it was still too early, so toning down her energy, she clapped and started from the beginning. "Good morning."

Smiling, she responded, "Good morning, Yang."

It was more than a good morning. It was wonderful, calming, and exciting all at once. Like Blake was ready to jump into a pool or run a marathon. Like she was ready for a fresh start.