CHAPTER 4

...

Yang thought that, without Blake around, the people of Kuroyuri would act differently towards her. Colder, more hostile. But no. There's nothing more than shocked glances, curious murmurs, and sometimes, stink-eyes.

She finds herself on a railing, overlooking the ocean below. They've planned to hit the beach tomorrow, but with what happened, she's not sure they'll have fun if they decide to follow through on their plan.

She sighs. Sighs again. Considers calling Ruby. But no. Yang's pride has been wounded enough with the whole "I didn't know my baby sister has a crush on someone" and "my baby sister knows I have a crush on someone"—she doesn't need to add "my baby sister gives me dating advice" into the mix.

Have there been moments like those? Sure. Of course. Yang has caught herself wanting to kiss Blake for months now. And sometimes, she considered the idea of Blake returning her feelings, but shoved the idea away. Blake? The Blake? Liking someone like her? Ha! As if!

But then, well. Blake kissed her. Blake actually kissed her.

Yang should be giddy. Ecstatic. So happy she could explode.

Instead, she's apprehensive.

Yang runs a hand through her hair, chewing her bottom lip. There's no way she's gonna call Ruby, so that means…

"Yang?"

"Heya, Snowflake."

"Why are you calling?"

Yang snorts. "What? A girl can't check up on her own teammate?"

She can hear Weiss rolling her eyes. "No, I meant why are you calling when you should be enjoying Blake's company?"

Yang's ears go hot. After a beat, she clears her throat. "You noticed too, huh?" Yang groans and rubs her warming face. "Is it really that obvious?"

"I mean, even Jaune noticed."

Yang stiffens. "Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Oh Gods."

"I agree."

Silence washes over them again. Yang mulls over her thoughts. There are so many things she wants to know about this place. Despite Blake telling her it's alright for her to ask her, Yang's not comfortable with it. "Hey, Weiss?"

"Hm?"

"So, like, I'm in Kuroyuri right now. Obviously. And, well, it's great. Fantastic. I like it."

"But?"

Yang cringes. "You're probably gonna hate me for this."

"I already hate you, so go on."

"I, uh… sort of thought people here would treat me… less kindly."

It's silent on the other end. So silent regret begins to build in her stomach, shifty and tender. Then, Weiss speaks, not with contempt like Yang expected, but with a cool professionalism reminding her of Glynda Goodwitch. "Menagerie is separated from the rest of Remnant," she begins. "The people here—they think of us the way people from Before of monsters; something most likely real, but something they'll never encounter." She pauses, and Yang takes her words in. "They're too separated to even notice the way we treat them. To them, the outside world is, well… It's too far. They can't even fathom the idea of interacting with it."

"But what about—"

"Blake's different and you know it."

Yang sighs. Yes, she does. "It just… It doesn't feel right, you know?"

Weiss hums. "Yang—your hometown, Patch. How many faunus live there?"

Yang's jaw loosens. "I—Weiss, you can't just—"

"Answer the question."

"I—I don't know. I'm not sure there are any faunus who live in Patch." That's a lie. She does know, and there aren't, in fact, any faunus who live in her hometown. Yang remembers visiting Vale for the first time and seeing a faunus for the first time—she still remembers that it's a bat faunus. She remembers how she gaped at it, then forced herself not to. You have to be cool, she told herself. Act like you belong in this place. Act like you own this place.

Weiss hums again. "Say, if Blake were to visit there, do you think she'd get a lot of staring as well?"

"I…" Yang blinks. Blinks again. She knows what the answer is, but she doesn't want to say it out loud.

Weiss doesn't share her fear. "People notice when someone's different. You can't exactly blame them. You'd notice too if someone, say, has four arms and two faces. It's just that what's different to you might not be different for everybody, and vice versa. You're used to interacting with a faunus, and Blake's used to interacting with a human. Not everyone has that luxury."

"Luxury, huh?" Yang says. A wry smile crosses her lips. She remembers talking to Blake about it—the difference between a luxury and a necessity—in an empty classroom when the sun sets. Boy, that feels like ages ago. "No offense, but how come you know all of this stuff?"

"Because I'm tired of all the lies."

Lies. They've been fed too much of it. Even now, even after everything, Yang isn't sure she knows the whole truth. Not really.

But she doesn't wanna think about that. "Hey, Weiss?"

"Yeah?"

"I think this is the part where I go all Mother Hen mode on you and threaten you for dating Ruby."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. Here goes." Yang dramatically clears her throat. "Something-something threat, something-something ass, fire, explosion, red eyes, more fire."

"Yes. Terrifying indeed."

Yang smiles. "Take care of her, alright?"

"Of course."

"And don't be afraid to let her take care of you too."

"... I'll try."

"Good," she says. "Thanks, Weiss."

"Goodbye, Yang," Weiss replies and hangs up.

Yang blinks, then stares down her scroll, shaking her head. Once an ice queen, always an ice queen.

...

Once night comes, Yang returns to Blake's house—AKA, the Belladonna manor. With the lights on against the darkness, the building looks even more intimidating.

Yang's footsteps are light when she steps in. And yet a woman's voice says, "Oh, you must be Yang."

Yang jolts, then turns. There, in the kitchen, an older woman sits, sipping a cup of tea. "Yeah, err, hi. I'm Yang. You… already know that." She clears her throat. "Hi, Mrs Belladonna. I mean, I'm assuming you are Blake's mom 'cuz, well, this is your house, so…"

Please kill me now.

Blake's mom slowly smiles, cocking her head, and Yang can see where Blake gets her beauty. Her cheeks warm up. Not cool, she tells herself. Falling in love with one Blake is bad enough. I can't have the hots for her mom too.

But she can't help herself. When Blake's mom rises, the shoulder part of her kimono falling down, it's all Yang can do not to drool.

"You know," Blake's mom says, her voice smooth and low, "I really ought to thank you."

"T-thank me?" What in the world is she talking about?

Blake's mom looks down on her cup, her nails drumming against the ceramic. "Blake is not exactly… easy. She has my husband's intensity, and that can be overwhelming."

"It's not overwhelming," Yang says, before she can stop herself. "It's actually really inspiring."

Blake's mom blinks, then smiles again. She takes another sip. A small, slow sip. "Why aren't you two together?"

has stopped working.

"I—wha—it—we're—"

Blake's mom chuckles, cutting her off. "Kids," she says. "They always think they're subtle." Yang's face warms. "So. My daughter is head over heels for you, and you're head over heels for her." Blake's mom raises an eyebrow, which reminds her too much of Blake. "What's the problem?"

Yang looks down on her boots. Well-worn, scruffy, littered with mud-streaks. They never bothered her before, but now, they're glaring at her like a neon sign. "Well, that's just it. She's your daughter."

Silence. Then, in a resigned, soft tone: "Ah." Yang looks up at her, and tries for a smile. Blake's mom smiles back. "Do you treat her any differently from any of your other partners?"

"No?" Yang blinks. "I mean, well, yeah, but not like that." She bites her lip. A yes or no answer is too simple. "Blake's special to me, even before I knew about…" She gestures to everything; the pillars, the large ceilings, the plants. She doesn't want Blake's mom thinking she's using Blake, or anything. Hell, she only started knowing about it yesterday.

Blake's mom smiles, then walks over to Yang. Despite being shorter than Yang, she has a towering presence. She pats Yang's cheek, says, "That's all I needed to hear," then leaves.

...

Yang walks inside Blake's bedroom. Changes into her sleepgear. Crashes into the bed. Closes her eyes. Tries to sleep. Can't sleep. Sighs. "You're awake, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Blake says, after a beat of silence. "I'm sorry, Yang."

Yang opens her eyes. "Don't," she says, sitting upright. "Blake… I… I like you, too. Like, I like-like you." She swallows, and her voice lowers into a whisper when she says, "I may probably sort of be in love with you."

Blake's ear perks up, and in the dim light, her glowing eyes widen. "Really?"

Yang chuckles and rubs the back of her head. "You haven't noticed?"

Blake blinks. "It's not like it's obvious."

Yang winces. "I mean, even Jaune noticed."

"... oh, wow."

"Yup. Yeah."

"I mean, it's not like I don't feel the same way—"

"Wait, you do?!" Yang shifts to face her better. She must've misheard. Surely, Blake can't be saying what she thinks she's saying. Right?

"This can't be news to you," Blake says. And Yang gapes at her. Blake blinks, then gapes back. "My Gods, Yang, I—I've been in love with you ever since Beacon."

"Beacon?! But that was—Blake. That was four years ago." Yang can't deny that a growing bubble of attraction formed around that time, but love? That's a whole other thing entirely. Yang blinks. They're close. Very close. Like, I-can-kiss-you-if-I-want-to close. "Do you… I mean, if it's cool with you, I know I'm not, like, anyone important like you—"

"You are important. To me. And you're—Gods, Yang, you saved Remnant."

"We did," Yang mutters, another strange jolt coursing through her chest at the thought of no more Salem, no more Grimm, no more wars. "And it's not like I did much, besides the usual, you know—" She throws a few jabs at the empty air.

Blake's glowering is even more intense with the way her eyes glow. "Don't sell yourself short, Yang. You're the bravest, kindest, and most beautiful person I know." Her ears twitch and her shoulders rise. "I mean…"

Silence.

Yang clears her throat. "Yeah, I… You're… Your face is nice." Yang catches herself. "I—I mean—" Blake bursts into laughter—at first a muted giggle, then a loud cackle. "Hey, stop laughing!" Yang says, but she can't help but grin too. She gives Blake's shoulder a light shove, huffing. "Oh, you know what I mean. You're super wise and smart and shit and I really like how your eyes sort of glow at night."

Blake blinks. "They do?"

"Yeah, and it's… Holy shit, Blake, it's breathtaking. You're breathtaking."

This time, it's Yang who kisses Blake. There's no hesitance on either side, only shyness and curiosity. Kissing Blake is as perfect as she imagined it to be, yet it's somehow strange in the best way possible. When they pull apart, Blake puts her forehead against Yang's, and nuzzles their noses together. "What now?"

"I don't know," Yang says, caressing Blake's cheek, "but I'd like to find out."

...

A/N

Welp. That's it for this strange mini story.