A/N: If you're confused by the last name business, just let me know! I'm posting this a bit early since tomorrow's going to be a busy day for me.
I'm hoping for a temperature check from you all- is this story still going well? Is it missing something you were hoping for? Is there anything that's going particularly well? Is there any way I can improve? Let me know! Feedback is greatly appreciated!
Laws of Attraction
Soon, Pyrrha found herself stepping out into the sunlit courtyard outside the amphitheatre along with the rest of her team. To her surprise, it seemed that everyone in Team RWBY had been slow in filing out after class ended, as they were still slowly sauntering away towards the dining hall. As she stepped out, however, the scene she stumbled into wasn't as cheery as how Team JNPR felt after her victories against Cardin.
A familiar pair of Faunus were standing in the middle of the path, with a spectating Team RWBY standing on the side. Sun, posing in an uncharacteristically over-the-top, comedic way, commented, "So I hear there's this dance going on this weekend... ah, sounds pretty lame, but you and me, I'm thinking, not as lame, huh?"
Blake stared deadpan at the Faunus boy, not understanding what he meant. "What?"
Pyrrha found herself getting dragged behind the door by Nora, forced to peer around the corner at the two figures. She heard shuffling, and sure enough Ren and Jaune quickly followed suit so that the four of their heads were stacked one atop another. She rolled her eyes, whispering, "Why is spying like this becoming a pattern?"
She was instantly shushed by the others as they continued to watch the drama unfold.
Sun continued brightly, losing his silly persona, "The dance! This weekend! You wanna go, or what?"
Much to their disappointment, Blake immediately began walking away, nose upturned in disdain and disgust. "I don't have time for a stupid dance. I thought you of all people would get that."
Pyrrha's heart sank as she watched Sun's shoulders slump lower and lower with every click of Blake's heels upon the cobblestone path. The rest of Team RWBY looked torn between wanting to console him and wanting to follow their distraught teammate; the latter eventually won out as the priority, though, and soon the three other girls had scurried off after Blake, leaving the blond nothing but apologetic smiles.
Sun barely noticed their departure. The boy had gone from false bravado, to pure excitement, to the equivalent of a kicked puppy, and it was heartbreaking to see it happen before her very eyes. Sun was a great guy.
Before she knew it, Pyrrha had abandoned her stack of spies at the corner and walked up to the dejected boy. Clasping his shoulder, she commented, "Blake didn't mean that. She's just stressed."
The Faunus nearly jumped in surprise. "Oh- oh! Pyrrha. Hey! Kickass fight, by the way. You nailed those creeps!" He laughed lightly, but when she didn't join in, the boy's shoulders sank and he hunched over again, sighing heavily. In a quiet voice, he added, "Yeah, I know she's stressed. I just want her to take a break, y'know?"
Pyrrha smiled, propping a hand upon her hip. "You must really care about her," she stated kindly, unable to hide the admiration in her voice. If only I could be as straightforward as you, she thought ruefully.
"I do!" Sun whined, stamping his feet a little childishly. His features softened as he watched the object of his affections turn the corner. "I really do. I- I don't know what it is, but I just want to help her. But I respect her too much to invade her privacy constantly, but I can't do anything if she won't tell me what she needs. It's so frustrating!"
Pyrrha bit her lip, turning to look back at the rest of her team who had gone over to talk to the rest of Sun's team- or, in Jaune's case, who had gone over to pout at Neptune for existing. In the afternoon light, the sunlight reflected off of Jaune's hair, turning it practically into spun gold. He had grown a little taller during their time in Beacon, and thanks to their near-daily sparring sessions after class, his shoulders had filled out, his stance stronger. And yet, despite it all, he still had that same silly, bumbling look on his face underneath it all. Warmth filled her from head to toe as she looked at him, proud of his growth.
Jaune was far more approachable than Blake, she realized- so how did Sun continue to confess so naturally in the face of rejection and yet, she couldn't? The mere idea of talking to Jaune about her feelings sent up a flush that threatened to burn her cheeks from the inside out.
Steadying her voice, Pyrrha cleared her throat and murmured, "You're so straightforward about your feelings. It's kind of impressive." Her eyes were still trained on her team leader, smile tugging at her lips.
With that, Sun looked up at Pyrrha, searching her eyes and where her gaze lay. After a few moments, a hint of realization dawned upon his face. "Wait…"
The redhead immediately snapped her attention back to Sun. "I-I just wanted to say that Blake will come around, so don't feel down!" she stammered, trying to play it cool. The flush on her cheeks was only amplified, and she stared intently at the tree behind Sun to avoid any eye contact.
Sun crossed his arms, suspicious beyond belief at her words, but finally a smile rested upon his lips. "Thanks, Pyrrha. I know she will." Flexing comically, he added, "I'm not about to give up so easily!" With that, he waved to his team and ran off after Blake- but not without winking at the redhead as Jaune came to stand beside her.
Pyrrha groaned, but held her tongue anyways. Sun didn't realize how she felt… right?
Oh well. Before she could say anything, her own team began dragging her over to the dining hall.
That evening, Pyrrha could only frown in concern as Jaune stumbled into their room carrying a large guitar case. "It's Yatsuhashi's," he explained defensively at their pointed looks. "Y'know, from CFVY?"
"I thought they were on a mission," Pyrrha replied after a beat.
Jaune shrugged. "Dunno. They came back to grab some stuff, but I think they'll be heading out again soon. Thankfully," added the blond, brandishing the case excitedly, "He's lending it to me for a bit."
"Um, okay, but why?" Nora asked pointedly, skepticism evident even from where she lay on the ground, feet resting up on top of her bed.
Jaune held up a hand, closing his eyes as if struck by a great inspiration. "Sh-sh-sh. Just wait and see. I have found the answer I have been looking for." With all the confidence in the world, he opened the case, connected the strap, and slung it over his shoulder as he stalked out of the room.
"He didn't tune it," Pyrrha murmured dazedly.
Nora flashed her a wicked grin. "Follow him?"
Pyrrha rolled her eyes. Ren was currently in the lounge making a study snack for them all – hence why Nora was hanging out in their room, since Ren had banished her from the kitchen area, along with sending out Pyrrha to keep Nora distracted – so they had nothing to do while they waited for him to finish up. "Of course."
They didn't have far to go, however, as Jaune stopped literally right across the hall. He gingerly knocked upon Team RWBY's door, clearing his throat as Weiss opened it up. Pyrrha and Nora stacked themselves against the cracked opening of their own bedroom door- "Why is this what we're always doing?" Pyrrha murmured, and Nora whacked her arm lightly to get her to quiet down- in order to watch the catastrophe about to ensue in the hallway.
Taking a deep breath, Jaune placed his fingers wildly down upon the strings and began strumming like a man possessed. "Weiss!" he sang excitedly, holding the note with a wobbly vibrato. He finished off with an enthusiastic flair and a wink that Pyrrha found horrifyingly cute.
Pyrrha's heart sank to the floor as she took in the light pink flush on Jaune's cheeks while the boy looked at Weiss. The smaller girl, on the other hand, would've looked more excited to do practically anything than see Jaune at her door. It just wasn't fair.
Keeping her expression completely neutral, Weiss slammed the door in his face.
Jaune pouted, insisting as he knocked again, "Oh, come on, open the door!" Dejectedly, he added, "I promise not to sing."
The pale girl opened up the door once more, only to be greeted by more emphatic strumming. "I lie-d!" The girl covered her face in her hands, exhausted. Jaune took a deep breath, rearranging his fingers into a new chord hastily. In the back of her mind, Pyrrha was almost impressed by the fact that Jaune actually did appear to know how to play the guitar- he had never mentioned it earlier, so she would've never guessed he had any musical talent.
"Weiss Schu-nee, will you accompany me, to the dance… on..." He paused, counting the days in his head, "… Sunday!?"
Weiss simply continued to stare blankly at the boy whilst Ruby and Yang watched from the back of their room, almost perversely curious as to how Weiss would respond.
The girl in question asked impatiently, "Are you done?"
Jaune shrugged, voice hopeful. "Yes?"
Weiss paused to take in what had just happened. "No." She slammed the door in his face.
"D'aww," Jaune mumbled, immediately shrinking into himself. As he turned around, Pyrrha and Nora flew back to their previous seats in the room so Jaune wouldn't suspect any spying. The blond walked in and put the guitar away without another word, forcing the two girls to trade nervous looks.
Should we cheer him up? Nora mouthed, unsure of what to do.
Pyrrha shrugged, panic and frustration rising. On one hand, it hurt her to see Weiss treat him so coldly, even though he had clearly mustered up a lot of courage to do even that silly act. The dance had been a hot topic lately, considering it was the first big event for the exchange students- add the fact that the role of planning it had shifted to Weiss and Yang after Team CFVY's mission had been extended, and all the first-year students had been talking about it. Of course Jaune was going to try and ask Weiss to the dance.
Yet, on the other hand, there was a sense of loneliness, of self-deprecating irony that accompanied this result. Jaune asked Weiss, who refused to give him the time of day. Would she garner the same result if she asked Jaune to the dance?
No, she chided herself instantly, squashing down her hopes. People don't go to dances or events with me. I'm Pyrrha Nikos.
She sighed. How wonderful it would be to escape her name, her rank, her self for just a little while.
After Jaune had tucked away Yatsuhashi's guitar, he shuffled out of the room, mumbling, "I need to talk to Ren about this." The moment he was gone, Nora was on her feet, squatting in front of Pyrrha worriedly.
"You okay?" the tiny girl asked, peering up at her with wide, concerned eyes.
Pyrrha smiled, shaking her head. "No, but not much we can do about it, right?"
Nora pouted, reaching up a hand to poke Pyrrha on the nose. "Boop," she whispered before standing up and stretching. In a much louder voice, she replied, "I'm gonna go watch Ren kick Jaune out of the kitchen too!" And with that, the orange-haired girl skipped out of the room, leaving Pyrrha feeling warm and fuzzy in her chair from the girl's action.
Suddenly, a beeping from her Scroll caught her attention. Opening it up, she found two messages. The first was from Professor Goodwitch, relaying the information regarding the interview taking place at the end of the week. As she read the details, her blood ran cold; there was going to be a sort of photoshoot at the end for Beacon's recruitment advertising campaign for the following year. Photoshoots meant dressing up and posing for the camera and pretending like she was already a true Huntress.
She felt like a fraud with all this fame- people treated her as if she was already an established Huntress, not just a seventeen-year-old who was trying to figure out life.
At the bottom of the email, Professor Goodwitch had written, "Thank you again for agreeing to do this, Pyrrha. You're a talented young woman who will do us proud."
Pyrrha groaned. Now she couldn't possibly say no.
The second message was much shorter than the first. "Call."
It had been over a month since she had spoken to her mother, since she had heard of the destruction of her father's workshop. An entire month to let the wound scab over, the swelling to die down, the aching to cease.
It hadn't.
The library was empty in this time of the evening, all the students having already given up on their studies to relax and spend time with their friends. The librarian patched her call through, just as usual, and soon Pyrrha found herself seated in front of a CCT terminal, feeling more anxious than she had during any of the three matches that day.
Straightening her back, she took a few deep breaths, stilling her features while the line connected. Eventually, her mother's face flashed on the screen, bright eyes glinting excitedly even through the digital rendition.
"My daughter! Oh, how I've missed you!" the woman said enthusiastically, practically beaming with pride.
"Hello, mother," replied the younger stiffly. "How… have you been?"
The woman practically giggled. "Oh, me? I'm doing much better now that I've heard the news!"
Pyrrha froze for a moment, mind racing as she tried to parse what was happening. "What news is that?" she responded mildly, trying to probe without frustrating the woman.
Her mother was glowing, completely ignoring Pyrrha's confusion. "About the interview, sweetie!" she cooed. "You're officially top of your class overall! You've done it!" Her eyes glazed over, picturing the headlines before her. "Oh, you're going to look wonderful-"
"Who told you?!" Pyrrha sputtered. "It was confirmed just today!"
The woman brushed off her concerns airily. "I have sources, dear," she said nonchalantly. "More importantly, you need to look your best on Friday, alright? Make sure you wear-"
As the woman prattled on, Pyrrha clenched her fists tighter and tighter, balling them up in the pleats of her uniform skirt. How was she so happy? How could she pretend like nothing was wrong, like she wasn't the reason that a huge part of Pyrrha's life had been ripped out by the seams with no remorse-
The anger and bitterness left from their previous conversation erupted at last. "I'm not doing this for you, mother," she practically hissed. "I'm doing this because my professors asked me, nothing more-"
Instantly, the woman's joy vanished, replaced by a chill as cold as steel. "Don't use that tone with me, young lady," her mother commanded, dangerously quiet. "I have done nothing wrong, I raised you by myself, you will talk to me with respect-"
"You didn't raise me alone!" Pyrrha cried, leaning closer to the camera hastily and quieting down so as to not alert the librarian. "Stop acting like Dad didn't exist, he mattered-"
"Don't bring your father up with me, Pyrrha Nikos," the woman ordered, voice quieter than ever. White-hot rage practically rolled off her body. "All I wanted to do was to congratulate my daughter on doing well. I did not come here to listen to you whine about that pathetic excuse of a-"
"He's not pathetic! He was brave!" insisted the girl. A remote part of her mind was equally parts horrified and impressed by her sudden gall to talk back to the woman who, for so long, had kept an iron grip on Pyrrha's life.
The eyes boring holes into her own onscreen flashed, the older woman's face twisting into a snarl. "He ran away from battle. He was weak, he let all of his men die. I have to live here and deal forever with the families of those victims, his followers. I have given up everything to protect you after he brought shame to us."
Pyrrha opened her mouth to protest, but her mother held up a hand.
"What is your name?"
And suddenly, Pyrrha's retorts died in her throat. She couldn't win. She could never win, not while she was who she was.
"What is your name?" the woman repeated, a small smirk pulling her lips. Her rage began to die down slowly as she realized that all the fight had left her daughter, leaving the meek little girl who would always obey her mother.
"Pyrrha... Nikos," the girl whispered.
"That's right. You're my daughter. You are no child of the house of Vulcan, you are mine. And you will achieve victory, and bring our name glory." Her tone had returned to its light purr of happiness, now that all sense of rebellion had died.
Hearing her father's last name stung. She didn't respond.
Finally, her mother sighed. "You know, one day, I'd like to have a conversation with you that stays positive." She tutted quietly. "Honestly, if Beacon wasn't the best school in the world, I'd pull you out of there. Clearly, someone is teaching you to have an attitude. It isn't becoming of a lady of your status, present and future."
"Yes, mother." Her words were bleak, suddenly feeling utterly exhausted after trying to deal with this woman.
After the woman prattled on, saying her one-sided goodbyes and scolding her pre-emptively about making mistakes in the upcoming interview, the call was cut off, and Pyrrha was left alone. She hung her head in her hands, remembering her father's grand smile, his smithy, his fire.
He had always said that she was his fire.
Then why did she feel so cold?