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A lot had happened for Ash. Just a few days ago, she was one of Vale's many homeless sob stories. Now she was standing inside the Atlas Military Complex, among high-class fighters battling for the fate of Remnant itself. She felt like driftwood dragged along with the tide. Technically no one actually invited her along, but everything had happened too quickly, and here she was. At least I'll be spending tonight in an actual bed, in a room, with intact walls and windows.

By the time she finished waking up the next morning, she had decided to enjoy these luxuries while they lasted. And there was one luxury in particular she hasn't enjoyed for years. A hot shower. Being able to steam up the bathroom with an hour-long shower made Ash feel amazing. She could almost feel the soap coaxing dirt out of her pores. Dirt that had been there for years, finally washing away… it was heaven.

It wasn't until the water started to cool off that she stepped out of the shower, feeling fresher than she had ever been in her life. Looking in the mirror she could swear her skin was a few shades pinker and her hair looks less like a dirty gray. It was hard enough keeping short hair clean with her lifestyle, but if there is any chance my luck is turning, maybe I can grow it again.

Ash stepped out of the bathroom, looking towards her clothing laid out on the bed. Or she would if her clothing was there. "What the hell? Did someone seriously steal my clothes?" She looked around the room and spotted a note next to a scroll on the dresser.

Ash

You seem to be enjoying your shower. I can't blame you. I noticed your clothes are a little worse for wear, so I decided to try and get them cleaned for you. Your shower won't be very productive if you put these old rags back on. I would have just tossed them, but I don't know if anything holds sentimental value, so I decided against it. I'm going to shop for a new outfit you can wear while your old clothes get cleaned. The scroll is so you can massage me once you get out of the shower.

Weiss

Ash picked up the scroll, quickly finding the only contact on the device. 'I got your note', Ash fired off. Not a moment later there was a knock at the door. Ash made sure her towel was secure around her body and let Weiss in.

"I ultimately decided for relatively the same style as your older clothes," Th ex-heiress stepped inside and set a pile of folded clothing on the bed. Ash quickly picked up the clothing herself.

"This is okay, right?" Weiss asked.

Ash looked between the Ice Queen and the clothing she bought for her. "Yeah. I've been 'living rough' way too long to refuse help. Thank you, Weiss."

"You're welcome," Weiss smiled and left the room, "I'll be right out here."

Ash changed slowly, cherishing the feeling of fresh clothing. She couldn't even remember the last time she had socks. Soon she was outfitted in a gray pullover T with short sleeves that only covered her shoulder and dark pants that were tucked into second-hand boots. She did miss her jacket with it's large, deep pockets and comforting weight. Hopefully the wash wouldn't take too long.

She stepped outside her room to see Weiss sitting at the table, loading Dust into her weapon. When she saw Ash, she set down her equipment and stood up. "Hello, Ash. I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Go ahead," Ash sat down, prompting Weiss to do so as well.

"I wanted to know… how long are you going to stay here?" Weiss asked carefully, trying not to sound rude.

Ash blinked. "What do you mean?"

"It's not your war," Weiss explained, "I understand things just kind of… happened, and it's easy to get lost in the flow. You didn't sign up for this fight, and you don't have to stay if you don't want to."

Ash thought about her response carefully. What was she still doing here? "I guess… I don't know…" Ash confessed, "I mean, you all have been so nice to me. That is the only decent bed I have slept on in honest years. I suppose, as selfish as it is, I was going to stick around for the free room and board until you all decided you didn't want me around."

"I see…" Weiss was in thought.

"Is that what this is?" Ash asked, "Do you want me to leave? It's no problem, I understand, really."

"No not at all!" Weiss assured quickly, "But I have to ask, do you know how to fight?"

"Not… not like a huntress…" Ash answered slowly.

"If you could stay, but it meant you had to learn how to fight… Would you?" Weiss pressed on.

"I…" Ash really didn't know. She wasn't homeless and jobless for a lack of trying to get work and a life on her part. It's not that she's not willing to put forth the effort, but it always goes wrong in the end… usually when someone discovers her little 'addiction'. But it was hard to say no to the woman who's given her clean clothes and a hot shower. "I think I would try, but I wouldn't be able to make any promises."

"I understand," Weiss nodded, "So my last question. Are you staying?"

I've never tried to make a career out of fighting before. Maybe, this time… maybe things will work out… plus, that bed is very nice… "Yes, I think I am."

Weiss sighed in relief. "We'll discuss the training later. It's just good to know where you stand." A ding from the next room caught Weiss's attention, "That would be the washer! I'll be right back."

"This place has everything…" Ash noted, watching Weiss move into another room, "Atlas doesn't take half-measures, do they?"

Ash's eyes wandered down to the table. The tube of red Dust the huntress was using to fill her rapier was sitting there… begging to be taken in hand… No! Ash shook her head, I can't do that anymore! I can't…

Her eyes still passed over the entire room, seeing if anyone was watching. The tension swelled in her chest. Her eyes darted back to the doorway Weiss went through, lingering, gauging how much longer she would take. "Maybe… just this once…" She muttered under her breath, reaching for the vial slowly. The second her finger closed around the dust, her arm shot back to her side. She hastily shoved the glass in her pocket while keeping an eye on the door.

Feeling the dust tube settle in her pocket released the tension in her chest. Ash gave a heavy sigh as sweet relief washed over her.

"You look happy," Weiss noted, walking back into the room.

"New clothes, a shower, a decent bed…I almost don't feel homeless anymore," Ash smiled.

"Mabe your luck is turning," Weiss smiled as well, reaching to pack away her equipment. "Wait a minute…"

Ash watched Weiss begin to look around. A pang of guilt shot through her heart, but speaking up now could be worse than staying quiet. She could always return the dust later…

"Hey Ash, did you see where I set down my Burn Dust?" Weiss finally asked.

"No, sorry," Ash lied confidently.

"Really?" Weiss frowned, "It's not like a vial of Dust isn't noticeable…"

Ash shrugged, "Maybe you never took it out?"

"Maybe…" Weiss checked her case, "It's not in here either. I could have sworn… Did the labs forget…?" the ex-heiress sighed, "Well, I guess I need to make a call. We'll talk later."

"See you, Weiss," Ash nodded.

Her stomach grumbled on her way back into her room, and she turned into the kitchen instead. There she saw Reaper putting a bottle of something into the fridge. "Hello," Ash greeted.

"Hey," Reaper nodded, "Weiss got a bunch of real food, so we can stop with the MRE's."

"Sounds good," Ash smiled, "What's that?"

"Mine," Reaper warned as she picked up a glass of white liquid. Ash swore she could smell alcohol. "If it disappears," Reaper smirked at her, "I'll know who to ask first."

Wink.

Ash was frozen as Reaper stepped around her and out of the kitchen. "What was that about? She couldn't have meant…" Ash gripped the Dust vial in her pocket, "could she…?"

Chamillia was swinging another make-shift scythe in the room Reaper and Neo decided to share. This new blade was a little better-made than the one she had in Vale, it more closely resembled an actual scythe. It still wasn't perfect, but Chamillia would be getting a replacement in the Atlas gear supply. She was just using this one for practice. Or trying to, anyway…

"I don't get it!" she vented, "What am I doing wrong!?"

"You don't have my semblance," Reaper finally told her, tired of watching the little girl try and fail to do complicated maneuvers. "I rely on my semblance for my fighting style, you won't be able to copy it. And while we're on the subject of copying…"

Chamillia frowned to herself.

"You realize you only have memories of how to fight, right?" Reaper pointed out, "You don't have any formal training. No muscle memory, not the proper muscles themselves. You would need to train from the ground up. And if you insist on fighting with a scythe, you can't even use my memories to make it easier."

Chamillia frowned deeper, grumbling. "Yeah, yeah… I know…" she admitted.

"Ash needs training, too," Qrow announced his arrival in the doorway, "apparently she's sticking around as well. You won't be alone."

"And Qrow here can teach you how to use a scythe," Reaper pointed out.

"Really?" Chamillia looked at his weapon. It looked like a sword to her…

"Yeah," Qrow nodded, "Who do you think taught her?"

Chamillia looked between the two scythe wielders. Her resolve hardened. "Okay," she nodded, gripping her scythe tight.

"Calm down, we won't be starting this minute," Qrow looked to Reaper, "I came to tell you Oz wants to talk."

"Alright," Reaper replied.

"Alone," Qrow pointed out the door with his head.

Reaper frowned and stood. Might as well get whatever this is about over with. It was a short walk to the meeting room, which had a large table with room for several chairs. When she stepped inside, Oscar was sitting in one of those chairs waiting for her. "Hey, kid. I hear the wizard in your head has words for me."

Oscar was sitting calmly, back straight, eyes closed. Something about him seemed different to Reaper. He wasn't as nervous as she usually sees him.

"Indeed I do," The boy opened his eyes, "Reaper."

His eyes looked slightly different, and his speech had changed. In fact, he now reminded Reaper more of… "Oh, that is fucked."

"Pardon?" Oscar asked.

No, Ozpin, Reaper corrected in her head. Because it was Ozpin she was speaking to. "It's not enough to hitch a ride in his head and convince him to travel halfway across the world for this bullshit. No, now you're actually hijacking his body?"

"Oscar could push me back if he wished," Ozpin assured, "He has all the power to."

"But never out," Reaper deduced, "He's still stuck with you."

"Please, this isn't what I called you to discuss," Ozpin pleaded.

Reaper crossed her arms. She was clearly unconvinced, but allowed Ozpin to move on.

"Your demeanor the past few days have some of us concerned," Ozpin began, "Concerned for your intentions."

"'Intentions'?" Reaper chuckled, "You make it sound so sinister."

"I apologize, that is not my… intention," Ozpin heisted to use the word again, "I simply mean to say that it seems you do not wish to stay."

Didn't I just have this talk a few days ago…? He doesn't know I am staying. Bet I could have a little fun… "Oh my," Reaper's voice dripped with sarcasm, "was I that obvious?"

"Whatever you think of this fight, the people here would stand much less of a chance without you," Ozpin told her.

"Bullshit," Reaper scoffed, "You've got Atlas's second in command and a fucking maiden. Not to mention you already know where another maiden is! You don't need me, Ozzy, and I don't even know why you'd want me."

"You do have something special, Ms. Rose," Ozpin assured her, "Something that could perhaps be even more useful than the maidens."

Reaper rolled her eyes. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like this. "Enlighten me."

"There is a legend, from a very long time ago. Before the existence of the schools, before the huntsmen and huntresses, there was another class of fighter who took up arms against the grimm," Ozpin explained, "These soldiers were born with special gifts. The creatures of darkness stood no chance, against the silver-eyed warriors."

To say Reaper's reaction was subtle would be an over statement. The girl didn't seem to react at all. "I expected you to, well… something?" Ozpin prodded.

"I stopped being surprised by your bullshit when you walked Oscar through the front door," Reaper reminded him, "So what, I have magic powers I never knew about? Sure, that makes about as much sense as anything."

Ozpin didn't detect sarcasm in her voice. "You're… truly taking this in stride?"

"Yup," Reaper nodded honestly. "Still don't see why this means I should stay," she smirked subtly, finding some enjoyment in teasing Ozpin.

"The people here will need your strength," Ozpin argued.

"So, you want me as a weapon?" Reaper continued to not make this easy for the wizard.

"No," Ozpin fell for it, trying to quickly recover. "You would be helping your friends," he insisted instead, "Doing some good. Being a huntress!"

All his argument did was make Reaper scoff.

"Please, Reaper," Ozpin practically begged, "Have I ever steered you wrong before?"

This, too, did not nearly have the reaction Ozpin anticipated. He even expected another blank stare before he expected outright laughter. Laughter that carried on and on, tears even forming in Reaper's intact eye. It was making him a little uncomfortable, to be honest…

"Ohhhh my gaahhd…" Reaper finally calmed down, "Thank you, Oz, really… I needed that…"

"Do you really feel I have wronged you so much?" Ozpin's retainment of his confidence was admirable, given how quickly he seemed to be losing control of the conversation.

"Let's start at the beginning, shall we?" Reaper began without hesitation, making Ozpin flinch. "You pull me up two years to be in Beacon, something unheard of before. All based on my combat skills, not my studies, or my maturity. Surprisingly, I wasn't emotionally mature enough not to try something extremely dumb I shouldn't have even known about."

"The Aura-Link?" Ozpin found himself mentioning despite himself.

"Exactly," Reaper nodded, "And it scram-bled m'noggin. I shouldn't have stayed at Beacon after I almost killed Jaune in class, but nope. There I stayed until I killed a stranger in an alley and decided to run away…"

"Your first kill was while you were at Beacon?" Ozpin was surprised.

"That should have been the end, but no… you invited me back only months later with open arms," Reaper continued, ignoring his question. "I understand I was 'undercover crook' at the time, so maybe that one doesn't count. But then, even after I betrayed your trust, you still wanted me back… You jumped through every hoop to make it happen."

"I only wanted to help," Ozpin defended.

"The road to blah blah, good intentions, all that…" Reaper waved him off.

"It can't all have been bad?" Ozpin pleaded.

"Oh, you think that was bad?" Reaper smirked mockingly, "Remember that one time I blew up Vale!? I have a feeling that wouldn't have happened if you never convinced me to come back. How else would Salem have found me for Korruption's host if it didn't have something to do with my court case making me famous?"

Reaper crossed her arms and dropped her smile, "It's almost funny, I never regretted my criminal life, even now. But after everything that's happened…" she looked Ozpin dead in the eye. "I wish I had never listened to you."

Ozpin was left speechless after Reaper's rant. Was that really how she saw it? Is it really… true?

Reaper reached for the doorknob, done with this conversation. She hesitated when another thought struck her. "'You have silver eyes'."

"Pardon?" Ozpin spoke quietly.

"That's the first thing you ever said to me… before inviting me to Beacon…" Reaper slowly fleshed out her thoughts. "Was it ever about me? Or did you just want to watch over my apparent super-power?"

"Reaper…"

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Reaper scowled, "If you really cared about me like you say, you would have sent me home long before I became The Reaper. But you kept me around to 'watch over me'. Salem's not the only one trying to horde power, is she?"

"That's not-!"

Reaper's fist slammed into the table, cutting him off. "Was it. Or was it not. Because you wanted to keep watch over my 'silver-eyes'?"

Ozpin didn't answer, which was answer enough for Reaper. She turned back around to leave, stopping at the door. "You'll be happy to know I had already decided to stay before this meeting," she told him, "but I'm only staying for Neo. I'm not your soldier. And I'm certainly not about to be your weapon. I just got through being used and I'm not eager to do so again." Reaper slammed the door on the way out.