AYangThang: Let's torture ourselves with words!

I've decided I'm going to start using the Oxford 3,000… Yes, THAT Oxford 3,000. For those of you who don't know, it's basically the 3,000 most important words to prioritize teaching within the English language. So, that has become my prompt list.

Also, those of you looking for some fun for yourselves, join in on this obviously terrible idea. Just google the Oxford 3,000 and you should come up with something of a list. Use the words you want, omit the ones you don't, see how far you get. If you're bilingual, maybe mix it up with words from a different language to spice things up or something. I don't know, just an idea.

Let's have some fun!

Obviously I'll be starting in the A's, and this is the first one-shot in the series.

Oxford 3,000: Story Prompt #1: Abandon

Kali made an irrefutably good cup of tea.

Yang just wished she could enjoy it.

Instead, she found herself eyeing her former teammate from across the table. While relative peace drifted over all of them, Yang felt uneasy with the suddenness of merry-making. She'd spent a sleepless night tossing and turning. She had lied for her mother, and it was an act that wasn't entirely out of selflessness. The apology that touched her ears sounded so bittersweet. The sad, wet sounds of so many unsaid admissions. It hurt more than it helped, and the inexplicable bond between mother and child become unclear again.

It wasn't hatred, but, it seemed nameless all the same.

In that instant, a painful numbness dulled the pangs of regret. Yang had stepped forward, procuring the glowing relic in Raven's place. She had forced an uneasy smile in front of those she deeply cared for. She didn't even know why she did it. Yang wanted to be angry, but what could she possibly say to the people who left her behind?

She had dreamed of her responses, planning them out so carefully that the words sat on the tip of her tongue. She had lists of questions formulated over sever long months of solitude. The long recovery process of a missing limb offered plenty of time to sit and think. Too much time to dwell on bygones days and missed opportunities. Those that had left her behind had done so for all sorts of different reasons, some of them validated by the nature of each person.

Yet, some of them were too unforgivable to excuse.

Weiss and Ruby were easy to forgive. Yang didn't have many questions for them, and the ones she did have were drenched with worry. Were they alright? Were they staying safe? Were they eating the right foods and getting enough rest? Everything she wanted to ask them were questions anyone might expected out of Yang. Always the doting sisters and motherly teammate. She hadn't blamed either of the women for their departures.

Weiss didn't have a choice when she left after the fall of Beacon. Her father had taken her away.

As for Ruby, she was needed elsewhere. A place where she could do some good. She would have been useless cooped up in the cabin.

Yang had found herself easily making peace with the fact that Ruby's journey was too personal. It wouldn't have been fair to ask the girl to stay behind. Ruby would have stayed for Yang without hesitation, if the blonde had only asked. Two simple words, and Yang hadn't found the selfishness to say them.

Reuniting with the two of them had been nothing but a heartfelt breath of fresh air twice over. An ache in her chest slipping away with the comfort of seeing Ruby and Weiss alive and well. She'd felt nothing but the same comfort after the battle at Haven. Weiss was still among them, able to live another day. That was a gift, and one that Yang wouldn't take for granted any time soon.

Truthfully, Yang couldn't find the selfishness to say a lot of things anymore.

Her life, and the lives of those she cared about had been proven to be much more fragile than she had ever expected.

In the face of such a sinister fact, rage was longer a vessel for power. It was no longer a tool she could use for strength. Recovery was such a distant concept. Even she couldn't fathom when her own suffering would ebb away. For each step forward, there were several steps backward. She was sure that Weiss would also carry around her own unending nightmare that came coupled with looking death in the face.

Lilac eyes drifted to Blake once more. Amber glinting in the dim light, Blake's gaze meeting her own.

Yang had no idea what to do about it. Looking at Blake hurt, but, the pain was a different kind of numbness too.

Meeting Raven for the first time contextualized reality in a way Yang had never before considered. There were forces beyond nature and nurture. The family unit was not so black and white, it too, was a fragile structure. Raven, for many reasons, had likely posed a threat to it. For other reasons long forgotten, Yang was sure that she was probably better off never knowing Raven as a child. It didn't excuse anything, but, it did make things easier.

At the very least, Yang found that she could comprehend Raven's cowardice.

She wished she felt the same about Blake. Yet, despite that wish, she just couldn't bring herself to understand why Blake had run away.

Blake's fears were different than Raven's. Her cowardice had no place among the bond team RWBY had built from the ashes. They were an unlikely team, with the odds stacked against them. They had been given every reason in the book not to last. They'd subverted even their own expectations. So, why had Blake run away? Why hadn't she stayed? Yang wished her questions would finally worm their way out of her mouth, but, they stuck there like glue.

Yang lifted the tea to her lips once more. It was the only thing keeping her hand from quaking.

It was warm…

Comforting…

Tangible…

Kali made an irrefutably good cup of tea.

An entire day of uneasy socialization promised that Blake wouldn't be the first to approach Yang alone.

Important conversations lingered heavily in the air. They needed to be addressed. It was clear that Blake would not be the first one to make a move. Yang found herself hesitating too. She forced smiles and pushed away the uncomfortable pit in her stomach every time Blake caught her eye. It wasn't the right thing to do, a confrontation was clearly in order, but Yang couldn't find the strength to start it.

She risked pushing the Faunus away again. If Blake were to run, she probably wouldn't come back. Letting out an uneasy breath, Yang leaned heavily on the balcony outside. Morning coffee was becoming something normal again.

Weiss had begun tending to the act, clinging to it like a lifeline. Distributing mugs to her teammates without a second thought. No one saw passed the resolve in those deep blue eyes. They wouldn't know what to look for. The fear Weiss held within herself wasn't obvious. Yang was captivated by the sincerity that Weiss refused to speak of. It was strangely intimate to pass along her insecurities in the form of a coffee cup. It was also something only Weiss could do, words failing her so utterly, as they often did.

Weiss wasn't afraid to die, she was afraid of what she'd leave behind. There was no legacy in an early death. No future in a monument built from propriety alone. A legacy could only be attained by a prosperous life, one that Weiss had to continue to live.

"You still haven't talked to Blake properly, have you?" Weiss asked, her own mug finally in hand as she sat side-by-side with Yang. They were the only two looking out at the grey mourning light as it scattered from the depths of the clouds.

"Do you really want me to?" Yang asked in return.

"You should." Weiss replied, although she found the response inadequate.

"But, do you want me to?" Yang asked again.

It was a fine question, really. Something had been deepening between them since Beacon. Neither one had truly discussed the nature of that bond. It had only grown stronger with Blake's absence, allowing the two of them a taste of what could be.

"I…" Weiss lifted the mug to her lips, letting the warm drink wash away too many wayward thoughts. If she thought hard enough, she could still feel the warm embrace that Yang had reciprocated in that damnable bandit camp. She relished the concept that both sisters had held her close that same evening, as if she might be part of something greater. As if the word family might hold an entirely new meaning. That it didn't have to be about a broken household and abusive relatives.

"What?" Yang asked in a manner that was far too kind given the circumstance.

Weiss edged closer. She would have closed it entirely, if it weren't for the reservations holding her back. "It's not that simple, Yang."

"That's why I need to know." Yang said softly. "I can't help but think that if Blake hadn't come back, if given enough time, we might have become a thing… You and me… Maybe we could have gone somewhere with it all."

"Perhaps." Weiss agreed quietly. "If given the time."

"We could still try." Yang told her. "It's what you want, right?"

"That's a loaded question." Weiss sighed more to herself than to Yang. "I don't think I can answer that without being vindictive."

"So?" Yang asked. "Why's that stopping you?"

"Before… everything…" Weiss trailed off, waving her fingers dismissively. "Before everything, you and Blake were building a rather deep bond. You were nearly inseparable at Beacon, and last I recall, you danced with her. Your eyes were entirely on her, as if no one else needed to exists."

"She ran away, Weiss." Yang said, swallowing down a lump in her throat. "She called a lot of that into question when she left like she did."

"I still cannot overlook the past. What the two of you shared obviously bordered on the side of romantic. I can't help but feel that if she had stayed around, you'd already be with her. That I'd never even be a consideration in your mind." She slicked her lips, finally admitting defeat. "I don't think you realize just how deeply you feel for her. I believe what you and I share will eventually pale in comparison."

"You really think that, huh?"

It was so completely stupid that Weiss desired one last taste, but a Schnee always received what they wanted, come hell or high water.

She lifted up onto the tips of her toes, her lips struggling to ghost across Yang's cheek. It was all she could do to make it quick and painless as she pulled away. Blue eyes straying away from the lilac that chased them. Weiss finally turned her back entirely. It was all she could do to remind herself that it just wasn't meant to be.

The image from within the house promised a different place in this vastly confusing world. It had engulfed her unrepentantly. There was only one person to thank and to blame for all of it. Ruby was still in that house someplace. Stubbornly hard-headed and full of false bravado. The world jading that innocence day by hellacious day. If left to herself, how would she ever be able to cope? It was no question who really needed her most, and Weiss took an ounce of comfort in that.

Her place was obvious, the choice easier than she ever thought it would be. She had her own past to rekindle, and a partner who was no longer a thoughtless child.

"If we'd had the time, Yang, then I know my answer would be different." Weiss sighed, her voice strangely steady. "You have to face the facts. Time is not on our side, and that woman is two doors away from our bedroom…a bedroom you should be sharing with her. Despite what you may think, you won't be able to ignore that. Go to your partner, Yang. That's where you belong."

With one possibility slipping beyond her grasp, an odd sensation of loss overcame Yang.

Distantly familiar, not nearly as painful as the others she had experienced. She needed to talk to Blake, but the words seemed almost pointless. How could she possibly convey the weight looming over her mind and pinning her down? How could she get Blake to understand something like that?

It would be easier if she could be aggressive, blowing up and throwing insults around until the fury burned out entirely. Part of her felt the urge to do strictly that, but Blake kept looking at her with that guilty expression.

Ears down flat, the display made worse without the bow.

If only the crumpling fabric was there now to hide the depth of that saddened expression. Then, maybe it wouldn't be so hard to look at. Faunus traits could be further windows into a soul. Blake's feline ears contorted along with her face. They moved in a way that highlighted her thoughts and showcased her emotions openly. They made everything so much more difficult to witness.

Adding in a healthy dose of scarcity and liberal use of clones, Blake's avoidance had become more than obvious.

Thankfully, old habits died hard, and Yang managed to track the Faunus down. Blake hadn't gone far, spending hours atop the roof away from prying eyes. With the Faunus in sight, Yang finally took the leap, faith blindly leading her to sit beside Blake. Fingertips nearly touching as they each braced themselves against the slanting rooftop. Yang had practiced this conversion in her head so many times that she had lost count.

All of it was ash on her tongue.

The seemingly important conversation dying in that instant. The words themselves were unimportant. It was the intent that mattered most. Yang had never quite found her goal. She had no idea what she expected to gain from her many questions. Everything she thought she wanted became figments of her imaginative mind. Nothing was surviving the reality. The best laid plans failed her completely when Blake stayed by her side, waiting for a reprimand that Yang just didn't have the heart to give.

What else could she do?

She reached for the cup in Blake's hand, letting her fingers brush up against Blake's own as she took that white mug from her. She lifted it to her lips, that tangible flavor back once again. She didn't miss the way amber eyes caught hers. The purely incredulous expression less painful to see. Something came to mind then. It was a simple truth, something easy to say when the weight of everything else just hurt too damn much.

"What's that look for?" Yang asked. "It's good tea…"

Thousands of questions died that day, left behind, abandoned by the person who needed them the most.