.
A New and Brighter Flame
.
To survive her darkness,
She took her dying embers
And set fire to the stars.
.
.
I should be winning…
…
By a larger margin than this.
…
The wind whistled as Weiss delivered another string of blows. One-two-three stabs in swift succession. Myrtenaster flourished like a conductor's wand. The fencer's technique was solid. Her timing, impeccable.
Yang managed to raise her right arm to block the strikes, but just barely that. When she went to return the favor, her harasser had already broken off out of range.
Following the retreat, Weiss took a defensive stance once more. Her hit-and-run tactics left nothing to chance. And as "weak" as the attacks may have seemed, there was no doubt they chipped away at Yang's constitution.
It was a safe way to fight. A tried and true method, which was responsible for her higher win record in overall spars.
Yang was stronger in terms of raw power, but Weiss was a different class when it came to speed and strategy. The advantage was obvious, and victory favored the swordsman.
I should be winning by a larger margin than this.
Even so, Weiss found a way to critique herself midbattle. Perhaps her attacks were not up to par. Perhaps she still harbored doubts over fighting her former teammate. Or maybe it was the change in Yang since their last meeting.
Weiss locked eyes with the girl, who responded with a jesting wink. The old Yang would have bull-rushed her nonstop, liking to overwhelm opponents through pure aggression. As ridiculous as Weiss thought that was, it was captivating to watch—and intimidating to encounter.
But the current Yang did nothing of the sort.
The boxer only shuffled their feet patiently. Their guard stayed high and tight. Breathing, parsed and low.
Strangely enough, Yang's eyes still gleamed bright red, a usual sign of her hot temper. But they had been that way since Weiss saw them on the train.
Fighting style, appearance, even the atmosphere Yang gave off was so different from what Weiss remembered. It was disconcerting.
She's changed…
How could she have changed so much?
"Got nothing to say, Weiss?" Yang called over.
"About what, would you be referring? Your unacceptable behavior? Your more than questionable affiliations?" Weiss asked back.
"Blake tried to convince me to come quietly."
"You'll come quietly all the same once I defeat you."
"That's what I like to hear." Yang banged her gauntlets together with a wild grin.
She barreled forward, weaving her body side to side like a pendulum. Arms tucked close. Her hair wafted with every turn, like a trailing flame. She closed the distance in an attempt to force an infight.
But before Yang drew close enough, Weiss fired rounds from her Myrtenaster. Yang answered with shots of her own. The trigger in Ember Celica clicked, shell primer ignited, and the resulting blasts engulfed Weiss' bullets.
Yang entered close space. Her body twisted to its fulcrum, legs loaded down hard into the dirt. And when her potential energy reached its peak, she pivoted her strength loose.
A steeply arched uppercut exploded with a snap.
The punch sent shockwaves through the force bubble Weiss conjured at the last second.
In response, the fencer transitioned into a smooth riposte. The shield lowered, and at the same time, her blade slipped and slashed with a scorpion tail-like lethality.
It carved more scars into Yang's right arm. The polish scraped off to reveal the steel underneath.
Every time the sword struck against her gauntlets, it felt as if it chiseled away at Yang's very bones. But all the same, the fighter pushed through the pain.
Staying in the pocket, the two entered a fast exchange. Orange sparks flew in concert with the repeated rings of steel knuckle meeting tempered blade. Yang parried with her right and fired off hitman jabs with her left. Weiss deflected and countered with short ripostes. Their proximities were so close, their front toes were almost touching.
Infighting was Yang's territory. Weiss wouldn't normally consent to the range of her opponent's choosing, but she wanted to confirm a suspicion. And after a few more blistering trades, her gamble paid off.
Despite optimal striking distance for Yang, Weiss managed to stave off serious damage. And after shoving a stiff stab in her opponent's face, was able to retreat safely.
Just as I thought—Yang's favoring her left arm.
She's not used to relying on her new one yet!
Which meant Yang's dominant arm, a boxer's main weapon, was handicapped. Weiss made a subtle glance at the prosthetic.
Yang grimaced, knowing her weakness was exposed. In spite of all the practice she put in with Neo, Mercury, and Emerald, she still had trouble bringing back the threat that was once her right fist. It was a glaring flaw, and something that bothered her constantly.
When she asked Mercury if he experienced the same thing with his kicks, her teammate merely shrugged. Then, answered that it came back with time.
When Yang consulted Masa, the doctor informed her the problem was mental, not physical. And also, a stern warning not to blame the prosthetic itself.
Basically, it was a problem to "get over". Like the yips sometimes encountered after a sports injury.
Easier said than done, she thought.
Yang stared down at her right arm. It was scratched all over after being used mostly for blocking. Some of the scores ran deep enough to damage the interior.
More than ever, she wished her real arm was back. Yang wanted to feel her fingers tightening in her palm, knuckles pressing underneath the skin. She missed the satisfying ripples of muscle bulging up and down her shoulder. The precious moments—remembered in hindsight—of her bones and joints aligning, like constellations in the night.
Yang didn't realize she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she saw Ember Celica's engines firing on all cylinders. Its shock absorbers and artificial muscle flexed. The steel alloy glowed with her Aura—a warm, welcoming light.
As if it were answering the deepest aches of her soul.
Yang smiled and gave a small peck on her fist.
Alright.
Time to get over it, already!
.
X
.
Weiss cast a Trap Glyph under Yang, but the other sidestepped it. Another was cast midair, but the boxer shattered through it.
Her opponent was starting to use their right arm more, and Weiss hardly failed to notice. Far from a hundred percent, but the longer the fight went on, the more uncertain whether the weakness would remain a weakness.
Weiss knew she had to finish it while her advantage held true. Although she understood that, something egged the back of her mind.
I'm holding back. I still keep thinking there's something to this.
I'm not sure why Yang joined them in the first place!
She shook her head.
No, no, no.
Don't think like that!
Concentrate only on the fight.
I'll disable her first and learn her intentions later.
With her mind reset, Weiss moved to put an exclamation on their match.
While Yang made a jagged dash towards her, the swordsman spun and struck her rapier into the ground. Instantly, the green grass around them frosted over, becoming slippery with ice.
Yang slid sideways, only stopped by digging her arm into the frozen ground. She stared at the glistening sheen underfoot and saw a Glyph appear there. Dark clock hands surfaced and ticked backwards, a Time Dilating Glyph with slowing effect.
Yang frowned as her body gave a faint afterglow, confirming the debuff's success. Her motions dragged behind, every action carried a delayed.
Weiss already possessed the edge in speed. In addition to her maneuverability on icy terrain, she cast a Haste Glyph on herself to make the gap between them even wider. There would be no escaping the coming onslaught.
Weiss slid across the frozen surface at velocity. A wound drilled by her rapier made its way into Yang's shoulder. The fencer moved through the attack, performing a pirouette before parrying one of the boxer's desperate strikes.
She glided and danced with all the grace of a figure skater. Like a ghost, she was silent save for the echo of her blade. It was Weiss in her natural element.
Yang suffered more strikes, as she was forced to turtle up. Her footing was unstable and her center of gravity was a mess. She was still slowed by the Time Dilating effects. Every negative effect compounded on each other, making the situation more impossible to overturn.
Weiss knew tactics like these were the bane for Yang.
She threw a few more measuring stabs which struck clean, dwindling her opponent's Aura further.
Sorry, Yang. But I'm putting an end to this.
Weiss formulated her next strategy.
She would dart in from Yang's left, the boxer's weak side. Disable the lead arm, and she could easily deal with the remaining right. Once Yang's punching power was taken away, she would erase the rest of the girl's Aura, and they would be left with no choice but to surrender.
Weiss steadied her rapier as her feet skated across the ice. Comfortable and smooth was the motion. Performed and practiced countless times before.
And then, she heard a deep breath…
A strange, vacuuming inhale that seemed to suck the air out of the atmosphere.
Yang threw Weiss a bold smirk. Her eyes flashed crimson and her hair licked with gold embers.
With an earth-shaking stomp, the brawler crushed her front foot into the ice. The leg anchored her body to the ground and she drew stability from it. Yang's torso torqued. Fire roared from the afterburners of her right arm.
She had taken Weiss' attacks and built up her Semblance. After adjusting to the delay, she matched her breathing to her opponent's tempo. Weiss was led in and baited masterfully.
There was a time performing such a feat would have been impossible for her. Cunning and patience were not Yang's strong suits, but her new teammates taught her much in their short time together. Learning to read into an opponent's rhythm was one such product of her frustrating rehabilitation program.
Yang predicted the direction of Weiss' attack. Her lead hand parried sword aimed for her weakside. With her former teammate's stride broken, there was only one thing left to do.
The counterpunch landed flush.
Weiss heard the straight right more than she saw it, more than she felt it. A thundercrack that swallowed the world around her, rendering her blind and deaf at the same time.
Yang's fist smashed hard into her former teammate's face. The collision so strong, much of the surrounding ice snapped from the shockwave. Trees bowed away and clouds gave to a slight shift.
Weiss flew like a bullet, smacking to a stop at the base of a wide tree trunk. It timbered over from the sheer force of impact. Dirt and dust billowed from the landing.
Yang smiled her broadest smile yet.
She felt electricity tingle all over. The punch was so good she could have cried. In fact, a few tears did fall.
The "sensation" in her right hand was back. She felt strength in it, confidence. Her heart leapt bounds. It was like waking from deep hibernation.
Yang felt invincible again. Like she was ready to take the fight to anything and anyone on the planet.
…And she would need to.
Because right then, Yang heard the rubble shifting.
Weiss stood with a harsh demeanor. She glared in her direction, empty of all compassion or mercy. Blood dripped down the side of the girl's lip. The red, prominent against the swordsman's snow-white skin.
Without breaking eye contact, Weiss squinted. She violently spat a tooth out the side. The little bone clattered noisily on a small remaining patch of ice.
…
Oh. She's mad.
Yang couldn't help, but widen her grin.
She flexed her right arm as if to confirm it was still there. Ember Celica hummed and turned with the force of a rumbling jet engine.
Yang no longer wished for this or that. This moment was everything she could ever want.
Her right arm wasn't the same as it was.
But it didn't need to be.
Yang was still the same fighter she always was.
She now understood that.
…
"Thanks, Weiss. I couldn't have done it without you."
.
X
.
The geography of the fight was experiencing dramatic change.
Weiss was cautious of Yang's newfound strength. Meanwhile, Yang had to fight the urge of getting carried away. In a battle that lived and died from moment to moment, between two opponents who knew each other's styles so well, no sliver of carelessness could be spared.
In Yang's mind, victory still leaned towards Weiss. Despite her epic comeback, she sustained more damage than dealt. Only one solid hit for the hundred the fencer landed. Her Aura levels were lower, too. If this was a scoring match, Weiss would be declared the clear winner of the first round.
And just like between rounds of fighting, both combatants took a moment to recoup.
Stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Weiss badgered herself.
I was too naive. I should have finished her off!
Victory was sitting in the palm of my hands!
Weiss gave Yang another assessing look.
I underestimated her.
Why did I still doubt it?!
Yang knows what she's doing. She knows what it means to join those villains!
Even if it means…fighting us.
Weiss caught the reflection of herself in the thin blade of Myrtenaster.
It doesn't matter what her reasons are.
How many times have I seen that look in Yang's eyes?
She sighed.
It was the same look Weiss saw in herself when she first decided to enroll in Beacon Academy. Against her father's wishes, against the expectations of those around her, Weiss chose defiance. She chose to walk a path her own choosing no matter what it cost.
Yang was now doing the same, and she disrespected that—underestimated it.
Weiss stifled her anger and released her stance. She strode to Yang with a formal gait. Her spine stood tall, with her shoulders pulled back and her chin slightly lifted. It was a rendition of pride.
In front of her enemy, she held Myrtenaster in front of her and saluted more formally than before. This time, with no ambiance of a match, but a duel between warriors.
Yang paused.
Hehe, ready to go at it for real?
Yang bowed deeply in return.
Yeah, this is the way it should be.
We had the two biggest egos of Team RWBY. Always setting out to prove ourselves.
I think that's why we got along better than we thought…
More than anybody else, you're the one who understood me most, Weiss.
Yang dropped into her fighting stance and reached out her lead fist.
Weiss raised her gaze and spaced out her breath. Then, scoffed.
Yang…
Cocky, hard-headed, arrogant.
But it was probably because of that stubbornness I came to respect you.
You're one of the most formidable individuals I've ever met. Only Pyrrha and my sister have ever made me feel this way.
But still different…
…
Tell me, Yang.
Why is it that whenever we fight, it's always so thrilling?
Even now as enemies, I can't help but enjoy this.
Tell me, Yang…
Do you feel the same?
As Ember Celica and Myrtenaster clinked together with a gentle chime, their very thoughts exchanged in that instant.
Fierce expressions of excitement trailed Weiss and Yang's features.
"You seem rather happy with yourself. Enjoying your little fluke of a punch, Yang Xiao Long?"
"Why, yes. Yes, I did. Shall I arrange a dentist for you, Ms. Schnee? I know a doctor, who works wonders."
"Hmph."
"Heh."
The two clashed, signaling the second round of their fight.
.
X
.
Weiss ducked and side-stepped another flurry of Yang's blows.
Her footwork was one of the strongest points of her repertoire, and the only thing keeping her from her opponent's one punch, knockout power.
Weiss worked furiously to keep her cool as haymaker after haymaker came rolling towards her. Each fist packed with enough force to blow her away in a single shot.
She could hardly believe Yang's resurgence. The boxer went from a shadow of her former self to surpassing it. And the right arm, which was once the girl's most glaring flaw was now the deadliest weapon in their arsenal.
In the meantime, while Weiss contemplated a countermeasure, Yang prepared her own.
She needed a way to stop the fleet-footed fencer. So, in the rests between clashes, Yang studied. She internalized Weiss' movements like she did before. Matching her breathing, reading her steps, predicting her rhythm. The habit was now deeply embedded in Yang's consciousness through the countless, excruciating spars with her new teammates.
They opened her to her weaknesses, laid them bare and exposed. It was an unpleasant experience, but it forced her to forge new strengths.
And the results came to life in the very next moment.
Weiss went to withdraw once more, but something went awry. Although her body was traveling in full motion, a sudden yank from her foot prevented her from retreating further. The pull was so strong, it caused her body to straighten with a whiplash.
Yang had stepped onto Weiss' lead foot and held it there.
With her prey snagged, the glowing boxer delivered a tight hook. The fencer could only conjure a last minute shield, which shuddered with a gong. Light rippled the dome, like a disturbed surface of water.
Weiss tried to escape again, but Yang's sole kept her in place. Then, came the second strike.
The brawler threw a dirty liver blow, which blasted away what remained of the force field. Myrtenaster was forced up from the impact and Weiss was left vulnerable.
Yang rode the momentum, loading her weight into her thighs. The balls of her feet dug in. Heavy rounds in the right arm went live.
Another deafening roar filled the forest for miles out.
…
And there, stood Weiss—unharmed by Yang's fist, which was halted right in front of her nose by an invisible force.
In the silence of the collision, only one sound pervaded the quiet. It was the humming of a Glyph below, larger than any Yang had seen.
She leapt back in a hurry by about twenty paces. She glanced at her fist, pondering the sensation she felt when it was stopped. Her attention went to Weiss, like asking for an explanation.
And as if to give answer, a great armored hand drew a visible outline, covering the swordsman's body. The image of the giant became defined. Shining, ghostly metal filled the edges, and Yang saw the summoning in its whole.
Half an enormous knight's body rested above Weiss' Glyph. One arm shielded its caster, while the other wielded a titanic claymore.
"Uh…What." Yang blurted.
Weiss stroked the summoned knight's helmet, as it crouched forward like a beast answering its master's call.
Okay. That's new.
Yang ejected her spent Dust cartridges and reloaded them with a quick motion. After cocking Ember Celica, she bombarded Weiss with a rain of mortar shells. The explosions plumed fire in all directions.
Even if Yang couldn't see, she could tell. Whatever Weiss summoned, it was protecting her. Still, she continued the show of force, bent on emptying every round.
A ghostly blade plunged from the conflagration and started chopping away at Yang's barrage.
Oh.
Suddenly, Yang felt a chilling sensation and rolled left without a moment's thought. Weiss' rapier sung, cutting a few strands from her hair.
Before, she could act on her anger, the summoned knight moved in from the opposite side. The ephemeral sword slashed at Yang like batting away a fly.
She landed some yards away, blood drawn from the impact.
By the time Yang recovered, Weiss and the knight were on her again. Despite the armor's enormous size, it moved as quickly as its caster, attacking in perfect coordination like a well-versed dance partner.
Yang tried to fight back against the hounding pair, but only found her punches blocked by the knight with ease. Frustrated, she chose to focus more on the caster instead.
Weiss feigned a window of opportunity, and the knight's sword cut Yang down at the base of her shoulder. A large crater gouged the earth, sending rocks and dirt flying.
The armor flipped its claymore, positioning its blade down. As the weapon was brought for the finishing blow, it came to an abrupt stop.
…
Yang clutched the sword in her bare hands, causing it to crack between her fingers.
Flames poured from her body and consumed the knight. And a fist traveled through the licks of emerging inferno to demolish the armor from the inside out.
Yang stepped from the wreckage, breathless and wincing. Her hair was a mess and her clothes were torn. Trails of blood painted her face, dripping down her arms.
Even after being wounded to such extent, or perhaps because of it,
She roared.
Like an enraged dragon, Yang roared.
Weiss only looked on in disbelief.
What in the—?!
Weiss immediately clapped the sides of her face.
Focus!
She's almost done for.
The next attack will be the last.
With a hand gesture, Weiss reconstructed her knight.
New plates were added to reinforce the armor while the sword grew larger and brighter than it was previous. Weiss poured almost all her remaining Dust and Aura into the construct, barely leaving anything to spare. It was a calculated risk, but committing anything less would fail to ensure a finishing strike.
The knight covered Weiss' body in preparation for the final assault.
Yang glared at the pair with rage in her eyes.
Her body was in a sea of red and gold flames. Open wounds across her skin luminated with intense radiance. Her Semblance ran rampant as Aura poured through her veins like an open dam. It was too much for her body to contain.
Yang wanted to let loose—to release everything pent up inside onto whatever was nearby. She hungered for pure destruction.
As her mind became clouded, her prosthetic began to chime warnings.
Yang's sanity returned, while bringing her arm in front of her.
She inhaled a deep breath and spoke the words:
[My Rage.]
[My Sorrow.]
[My Pain.]
[Are nothing but fleeting Embers.]
The engines in her right arm kicked into overdrive at receiving the code phrase. Pieces of the steel alloys ejected, releasing the limiters on her Ember Celica.
.
X
.
"How much exactly do you know about your Semblance, Miss Yang?"
"Uh…I don't know."
Masa frowned at that.
"I mean, it's really straightforward, doc," Yang tried to make the excuse. "I get hit, I get stronger, I hit back."
She also noticed Neo joining in silent judgment.
"Perhaps you could use more…words in your description. Define what you feel, this one suggests."
"Uhhh, feel? Why?"
"Because it is important, this one simply states."
It was Yang's turn to frown. Masa always had a habit of providing too much or too little information. And whenever she provided too little, Yang felt stupid for not figuring it out.
"When something is defined, it is given shape, direction—purpose. Like the title of a song, this one provides an example."
"Okay…" Yang answered uneasily.
"So, if you would, describe your Semblance in depth."
"Well…Whenever I take a hit, I feel this energy well up inside."
"Your Aura."
"Yeah. It kinda pours through my body like…like high octane for my bike."
"Interesting way of phrasing, this one comments as she scribbles notes. What is your thinking process while undergoing this sensation?"
"My thinking process?"
Seeing that Yang needed clarification, Masa repeated herself differently.
"What are your thoughts when activating your Semblance? The emotions you feel, your mental state, for what reason do you utilize it? To achieve what end?"
"I…I don't think of anything."
Masa tilted her head.
"I mean, all I really feel is angry," Yang attempted to explain. "I wanna beat down whoever or whatever hurt me. Pay them back in spades, y'know? It's fun. I feel powerful."
"It is fun for you to get angry and pummel your opponent, this one inquires in more-than-slight disbelief."
Yang paused.
She never put her Semblance into words before. Never spelled it out in front of her and saw it for what it meant. It was the first time she ever really thought of it as…
"Immature," Yang muttered. "It sounds really immature when I say it out loud."
Masa nodded her agreement. "This one would have said you sound like a child throwing a tantrum, this one assesses, adding salt to fresh wounds."
Yang gave an inadvertent twitch.
She had no words in her defense. Masa was right. She wondered how she could have been so oblivious. If this is what her Semblance did, what Yang used it for, then what did it say about her?
Semblances represented a facet of one's character. In essence, an expression of their soul.
As Yang contemplated it, Masa laid a hand on her tightened fist she didn't realize she was clenching. The engineer's callused fingers felt rough against her knuckles. And when Yang looked up, she could see the faint outline of a genuine smile on the good doctor's face.
"A true blade cuts only what it needs to cut, not only whatever meets its touch—this one paraphrases a favorite idiom. What will your fists be used for, Miss Yang? Will they only destroy what harms or upsets you? Is this the purpose of your Semblance? Is this who you are?"
Yang rubbed her arm and shook her head.
"I don't want it to be," she replied. "But can I really change my Semblance? I've fought this way for so long—"
Masa used a wrench to give Yang's head a love tap.
"OW!"
"How foolish, this one comments. It is a given you can change who you are and how you fight. Also, there is no need to change your Semblance, this one concludes."
"Huh?!"
Masa threw Yang a disappointed look.
"Your conceptual understanding of your Semblance is inaccurate, this one cannot help but give an exasperated sigh."
"I can't get it, if you don't explain it."
"Some things you must discover for yourself, foolish one. Ah…you better not waste this one's hard work with your stupidity. Learn thyself and be worthy of this creation!"
Yang was clearly dissatisfied, but immediately changed her tune.
Masa didn't have to tell me all that, or take the time to explain as much as she did…
The girl held her new Ember Celica to the light. Although she still had a lot on her mind and a lot more to figure out, Yang internalized the hints Masa imparted her with. She felt like a new key had fallen on her lap. Another step forward—closer to the answers of who she would one day become.
"Oh, yes. This is very important, this one adds last minute, trying to pretend it didn't almost slip her mind," Masa interrupted Yang's thoughts. "Your Ember Celica possesses a new feature. To activate it, you must speak a password and meet a number of conditions."
"Okay."
"Also, one of these conditions requires you grow up and be less foolish, or it will not function properly, this one instructs."
"…...Riiight. Well, here's hoping I'll be mature enough by the time I need it. What's the password?"
…
…
…
[My Rage.]
[My Sorrow.]
[My Pain.]
[Are nothing but fleeting Embers.]
Yang's gauntlets shifted and warped into its new shape. Material from the forearm cascaded to the knuckles and enveloped it. The structure of the enlarged fist gave the impression of an unstoppable force. The jet thrusters along her elbows and triceps scorched with intense fury.
[May they serve to kindle a new and brighter flame.]
[I will bet everything on this fist of mine.]
…
[I Burn.]
…
Out of Yang's arm, Masa's recorded voice responded:
[ACTIVATING. . . . . . BLUE HELION MODE]
The wild flames engulfing Yang lessened and tamed. From its red color came a new shade of sapphire. The inferno no longer roared, but plumed with a reverberating low howl.
Light blue embers streamed from Ember Celica like fireflies. Each of them, a small star of warmth and life. Her right arm shuttered like a supernova trapped in its engine.
Yang's hair tinged with streaks of azure. Her expression softened from something vengeful to quiet determination. The bright, glittering red of her eyes looked especially striking against the surrounding gold and blue.
"What do you fight for, Miss Yang? What reason lies beyond your fists?" Masa's voice echoed her thoughts.
I want strength.
I'm not sure why yet.
I want the strength to protect what's important to me.
The strength to overcome anything.
I want to live free and to find the answers I'm looking for. To live the thrills.
I want to change the world, but most importantly…
I want to change myself.
I want the strength to change.
…
Is that my Semblance?
Yang clenched her fist that burned with a new hue,
And felt the answer lay somewhere ahead.
She took to her stance, posturing for the final clash with Weiss. The blue-flaming warrior locked eyes with the snow-white swordsman across the ways. The armored knight positioned its claymore in the same thrusting form as its master, blade poised just above the shoulder.
Yang detonated the shells in her gauntlet and catapulted with a rousing boom. Weiss flew on the wind with a high-pitched scream of her rapier.
They met head on.
The collision sent flourishes of flame and frost streaking in every direction. Dirt and vegetation flash froze with blizzard-chilling ice, then scorched crisp black in near the same instant. Tremors shook the ground violently enough the nearby mountains almost collapsed.
And floating midair, was a glistening ice sculpture of a dahlia flower with blazing petals. It hung still for a moment, before gravity pulled it down. The symbol of the two warrior's duel shattered upon meeting the ground.
…
Some ways from the point of collision, Weiss laid in the cold burnt grass. Her Myrtenaster beside her, bent out of shape and distorted beyond use.
She could hear footsteps crunch near. They stopped when they reached a certain distance.
"—Good fight, Weiss."
"…"
Yang glanced at the twisted rapier.
"Sorry about Myrtenaster. There's a really good weapons tech named Masa, who can fix her up."
"…"
"I know you're probably feeling sore right now, but…I don't think I've ever felt better in my entire life! Hehe…!"
"…"
"And it was you who brought it out of me, Weiss. Even if it had to be as enemies, I'm grateful for that. I wouldn't be this strong without you."
"So, what are you waiting for? Finish me already," Weiss voiced defiantly.
Yang rested her hands on her hips and gazed at the other in disproval.
"Seriously? You really think I'd kill you?"
"I don't know what you're capable of right now."
"Ouches…Well, not completely wrong there. I don't know what I'm capable of either."
"…"
"Oh!" Yang exclaimed as if remembering something.
She then, walked over and started rifling through Weiss' pockets.
"Hey! What are you—!"
Yang pulled out the girl's wallet and flipped through the inside.
"My new team's a little strapped for cash." She removed the ID card and anything else she couldn't use, and pocketed the credit and lien. "Hm. Emerald might be rubbing off on me."
Weiss glared at her former teammate from the ground, and the atmosphere was electric once more.
"What would Ruby say, if she could see you now…"
"Hm. Who knows? Would she be glad to see me back in it? Would she be mad cause of the side I picked?"
"Would you fight her, too?"
Yang turned up to the sky in thought.
"Yeah, definitely," she grinned without a trace of shame. "Well, I better head off! Gotta make sure Neo doesn't kill Blake."
As Yang started to limp away,
"Yang," Weiss called.
"Hm?"
"…I'm glad you're better…At least that part, I can honestly be happy about."
"Always with the cold shoulder, then the warm heart."
"Quiet, you."
"Hehe! We should do this again sometime! 'Til then, I'll see ya, when I see ya," Yang waved and gave a wink goodbye.
Weiss could only sigh tiredly.
"Good fight, Yang…"
She watched the other girl disappear into the tree line, letting her mind wander.
I wonder why we thought it was okay to leave you alone?
Weiss stared up at the now orange-splashed sky.
Probably because we thought you'd recover on your own.
We just didn't know it would be like this.
She inhaled heavily. Her chest rose and beads of sweat streamed down. The air tasted so bitter.
'What would Ruby say'. That was a bit low.
I'm sure she would've been happy to see her sister up and at it again.
I wonder if they fought, would they have held back at all?
Weiss gave one last lamenting groan.
…
I want to see Ruby.