X

Misshapen

"Whoa."

No other words could Ruby Rose manage even as her eyes came close to popping out of her face. It was more or less the reaction Blake predicted as Yang described their encounter with the Beringel, along with the last several minutes of their time in the wild. She found idle amusement in how Yang did not exaggerate and yet still got doubtful looks and incredulous responses out of their other teammates.

"And with almost no supplies?" Weiss asked, her eyes glittering from over her shoulder. "I thought you were reckless before, Yang, but this…"

"We didn't have a choice, okay?" Yang let out a sigh as her metallic hand glanced her face, brushing unruly hair aside. "Besides," she said more gently, "I wasn't alone." Blake felt a small gesture at her back. She responded to it, if halfheartedly, and gave enough of a smile to ward off questions from Ruby and Weiss. Maybe it was her tacit agreement that was making them actually buy into Yang's story.

The day was as clear as it was beautiful. The sky remained cloudless and the sun gave warmth to the otherwise sharp autumn air. Its cold caress zipped by them as Weiss' Lancer quickly covered the distance between the cliffs and the city of Mistral, and Blake felt herself instinctively leaning towards the warmth of her partner. She kept her eyes elsewhere, using the sight of the great kingdom before them as an excuse to be uninvolved with the immediate conversation.

Even being familiar with it, the immensity of the city never failed to impress Blake. Its levels built atop each other in creatively unending configurations, from the small hovels carved out of the stone in the foot of the mountain to the buildings precariously built several stories up out of the cliff faces. Not a square foot of space was wasted, and the natural defense that all the cliffs and bluffs that made up the city's land were further fortified with watches and armaments.

Beneath them, the fog covered woods raced by and the rupture where she and Yang had been pulled into the earth became visible. The hole seemed a lot smaller from the air than when it opened up, but it was an abyssal pit against the reddish dirt of the footpath. A crew of officials and workers were already present, and the fresh hazard seemed to be cordoned off. Blake sighed in relief; at least no one else would be subject to what she and Yang had just been through.

Yang. Her hair whipped about in the wind, and it caught the sun and took on an aspect of fire. Her face was serene, but her eyes held a certain tumult. Thoughts belied her calm exterior, but Yang wasn't surrendering them freely. Her recounting of events omitted certain details, Blake noticed. Most of them pertained to the tension between Yang and herself.

And it was fine. She couldn't help but wonder if it was because Yang wanted to avoid scrutiny or if it was out of respect for Blake's privacy, but she appreciated that Yang didn't go into those things. But Blake was beginning to worry about the way she didn't elaborate on why she was out beyond city limits in the small hours of the morning.

Blake herself hadn't uttered a word; she didn't trust herself to remain put together in the moment. She had been compartmentalizing, and her little box of emotions tottered on the brink of bursting. Besides that, she was pretty sure her throat was shot.

She tried not to dwell on the way Yang looked as she slipped away at the cliff. That sorry, saddened look, like she knew she wasn't coming back. It was purely good timing that saved them, and the more Blake thought about it the more lightheaded she felt.

For her part, Yang didn't seem upset about her close call. She kept a hand on Blake's back, and although the touch was comforting she was sure it was simply to keep them both stable on the creature that Weiss had conjured up. Blake tried not to attribute too much meaning to the gesture, even if it did feel… nice.

"So," Yang said, breaking the momentary still, "how did you guys manage to find us?"

"Why don't you ask her?" Weiss said, suppressed annoyance leaking into her voice. "Ruby's the one who dragged me out of bed in a panic."

All eyes turned to Ruby, who grinned pleasantly at the oncoming attention.

"I got your message," she said to Yang. "I tried to reply, but it kept failing. I got a little worried, and then I looked at the coordinates that you included and they were way out there." Ruby sobered, but a corner of her lips turned upward as she looked off into the near invisible wings of the Lancer. "But then I got Weiss up to help me search, and we figured it out."

Ruby glanced towards her inattentive partner and back, and she cupped a hand to her face. "Don't listen to her," she said conspiratorially. "It was Weiss' idea to do it this way."

Blake could feel Weiss' eyes rolling even without even seeing her face. Whatever Weiss' sentiments, Blake could not be happier for the way or time they showed up, even if the sound of the approaching Lancer initially caused her to worry.

"Needless to say," Weiss said, "we flew around for a little while until we heard explosions." Weiss looked back. "Or trees breaking. Or just a lot of noise, really."

Blake glanced at Yang and found her beaming. She seemed lighthearted for someone who had just had multiple brushes with death in a single night. Unsure whether it was because of her own mood, or because of the gravity of everything they had just been through, Blake did not like it.

"Then your signal lit up and I tried to call you," Ruby added. "But you still didn't pick up!"

"Yeah," Yang said, that smirk that was hanging onto her face giving way to incredulity. "I was a little tied up when you called." Blake met Yang's glance and the latter's lips curled sincerely. "But I won't complain about your timing after that."

Weiss sighed again from the front. "I'm setting us down outside the kingdom. You can walk, right?"

"I'm missing an arm, Weiss, not a leg."

Weiss scoffed. Blake frowned and watched Yang out of the corner of her eye, taking stock of her. Yang perchance caught Blake staring, and for a tiny moment the mask slipped. The fingers against Blake's back twitched and pinched the fabric of her coat, and she felt a minute tug as Yang reasserted her grip.

The Lancer skimmed across the hills, dust and grass following its wake. The ground tore by until they came to a sudden halt at the foot of a knoll half a mile away from the southern gates, the creature bucking high to keep its passengers from flying off. Weiss allowed everyone to hop off before edging off the ethereal creature's back herself. She seemed to make eye contact with it, and some silent acknowledgement passed between them. The Lancer angled its head, as if in deference, and lost its solidity. Its body dissipated into glowing particles of light, and the starlets of dust joined the winds and disappeared amongst the light of day.

Ruby broke what was otherwise an awe inspiring moment with a prolonged groan as she stretched out. It must have been difficult for her to sit still for so long being the ball of energy that she was. Blake remembered the exhaustion from watching her bound about, but Ruby seemed to have mellowed a bit in their time apart.

"Are you guys hungry?" Weiss turned her eyes on Yang and Blake, her arms folded.

"Starving!"

"Famished."

Blake looked at Yang, finding a surprised expression that mirrored her own. Ruby giggled off somewhere to Weiss' side and walked ahead of the group.

"Come on," said Ruby as she clasped her hands behind her head. "I know a place."

The four of them proceeded to walk the rest of the way to the Mistrali gates. Blake felt cold, unusually so. Perhaps it was all the time she had spent in the tropics before arriving in Anima days prior, but she wasn't this bothered before. The dwindling adrenaline left her feeling spent and weak, and her throat hurt still. Blake closed her eyes and drew a slow breath. She let it fill her chest to capacity, and slowly she released it.

Yang trudged along beside her. Together they brought up the rear of the group. Ruby and Weiss walked a few paces ahead, talking. Blake flicked an ear as she listened passively to their conversation, which was really more Ruby talking at Weiss than any sort of discourse. Whether it was because Ruby switched subjects too rapidly or because Blake found her mind on other things, she couldn't recall the details moments after they had passed.

The Relic. Haven Academy. Salem. The soul of Ozpin now dwelling within the body of a boy. All things that were still largely a mystery to Blake. A mystery to all of them, really, but it seemed like she was behind on details everyone else was already aware of.

The world had gotten much larger and more complicated than Blake cared for. It was already difficult enough to navigate between the mutual hatreds of everyday people, between believing in the White Fang's core mission but not its methods. Even being a grounded realist acknowledging that the world could be a brutal and uncaring place, Blake was still unprepared for it to become darker than it already was.

Blake stole a glance at Yang. Her shoulders seemed to tense more the closer they got to the gates. Her gait seemed normal but there was the slightest stutter in her step, like she was favoring a strained muscle or a large bruise. Scratches and cuts littered her left arm from where she tumbled along the ground after her aura broke. Her chin sported a nice abrasion, not out of place with her nature as a fistfighter. Outside of a few minor injuries, Yang seemed well. But it was written on her face that she wasn't.

Blake opened her mouth, but she found the words died on her tongue before she could even draw breath. What was she even going to say? She had already laid it out in no uncertain terms that Yang could come at her with whatever was bothering her. That she could be relied on to listen, that she would help her carry her burden when it became too heavy.

But it seemed Yang was disinterested in any of that.

If Yang had not approached her at Beacon, Blake was not sure she would have done the same. She tried so hard to shut out the others, content to let the chips fall where they may, so afraid was she of making the wrong choice. That had happened once before.

But then Yang changed it all, like the disruptive presence that she was. In those days, Blake was the cool one, the one so confident in her direction that she couldn't be diverted. She had no desire to get close to anyone again, until the way Beacon had its teams set up changed all that. Forced to make a choice, Blake played the field. As fate would have it, Yang was there, raising havoc and calling attention to herself. After her impressive showing with the Ursai, Blake decided to show herself.

Blake knew Yang didn't need help with the Ursa. Maybe she just wanted to make a good impression.

She remembered when their eyes met. Confusion. Confidence. And then, acceptance.

But nothing could have prepared Blake for the world she had stepped into with Yang.

For so long Blake had been grateful that Yang was her partner and friend. It seemed like Blake had finally made a good decision. Her partner was selfless. She was kind. Even when Blake lost faith and hurt her team, Yang was always ready to welcome her back. Yang represented everything that Blake wished she could be—outgoing, confident, principled and brave. She had convinced herself that she was none of these things, but Yang was always too happy to change her mind about it.

She almost believed that she, too, could be more. Then Beacon fell, and that was the end of that dream.

The sound of a growing crowd brought Blake out of her reverie. An open air market greeted them at the space just beyond the gates, the main avenue that would lead them into the lower city. They weren't going there, but sharing the same thoroughfares meant that its less savory elements leaked into these spaces. The tension in Yang's body seemed to grow further, and Blake sulked close to her partner.

Even now she could feel a number of eyes on her like hot needles. Blake drew her arms around herself and tried to look nowhere but her feet. Her ears folded back in a vain attempt to disappear into her dark hair.

"So, we'll take the elevator in a couple of blocks and that should… Blake, are you okay?" Ruby met Blake's frown with a half-cocked smile.

"Yeah," Blake said, and she twisted her face at the sound of her voice. It sounded and felt like she was coming off of a bad cold, and she wished she had a hot cup of honeyed tea in hand for it.

Yang looked at her, then she glanced over to Ruby and Weiss.

"Guys… I think we should just head to the house." Yang looked like whatever reserve of energy she was going on had suddenly run dry. "We've been… on, all night. We need to rest."

"No!" Blake said, bringing a hand up to her face as she cleared her throat. "We don't have to go right away."

"Blake…"

"Let's meet in the middle and pick something up?" Weiss tilted her head like the solution was plain to see.

"That sounds fine. Yang?" Ruby regarded her sister. Yang appeared as though she was about to put up an argument, and a quick glance in Blake's direction later she relented.

"Okay," said Yang. "Let's just keep going."

A ten minute walk took them through a torchlit stairwell to one of the elevators used to quickly traverse the various levels of Mistral. Ushered into the more upscale areas of the city, Blake felt the tension wash off of her. The space was greater and the crowd was thinner and less noisy. It also helped to feel like she wasn't being watched like an intruder.

A short walk took them to a rustic noodle shop, as unassuming in appearance as could be. It was a square stand, open air, with a row of stools and a counter for customers that preferred to sit and dine. Its a wooden sign reading Wok About shone with a fresh coat of jolly green, red, and gold paints. A curtain provided some shade from the sun and wind, and delicious, savory smells concentrated in the air beneath the canvas. It was empty, currently, which was no surprise given the mid-morning calm. But soon the lunch hour would arrive, as would the crowds.

Blake could hardly believe that they'd been out this long. Fortunately, it seemed like they were close to rest. The area looked familiar, and Blake reckoned that the guest house wasn't more than a few minutes' walk from where they were.

Ordering was a simple affair. Weiss took the lead since takeout was her idea, and because if she left it up to their excitable leader then the order would never find its end. One spicy noodle bowl, one seafood noodle special, and two regular noodle courses, one with extra soy sauce.

Ruby rubbed her hands in anticipation while Weiss and Yang sat at the counter. Yang slumped against the the surface and propped her head up with her left hand, occasionally glancing at Blake with eyes fighting sleep. Blake gave back a similar look, and she tried to put on a smile for Yang.

Though Blake was initially reticent, the prospect of getting some actual food into her belly was causing it to growl impatiently. Blake tried to hide her self-awareness, hoping that it was simply her strong hearing picking up the gurgling.

"Hey," the shopkeeper said, "You're that girl."

Blake flicked an ear. Compelled to pay attention, Blake realized that she was the center of attention. Her teammates all had eyes on her. When she looked up, she found herself attended to by a bulky man, hazel eyes gleaming on a field of swarthy skin. He leaned on his counter.

"Blake Belladonna, was it?"

Hearing her name from a complete stranger was a bizarre feeling. Hesitantly, she looked at her friends and hoped they had an answer. Shrugs and tilted eyebrows were all she got. Yang's eyes were on the man, her hands curling into fists just beneath the surface of the counter. Slowly, Blake set her attention back on the shopkeeper.

"Yes?"

The burly man bore himself up at the confirmation. A deep breath swelled his chest and he slammed the countertop, sending the girls back with a start.

"Sign here, and consider this meal on the house," the shopkeeper exhaled. Blake felt her mouth fall open. Off to her side, Yang said, "Whoa." Ruby beamed next to her about Blake being famous. Weiss folded her arms and stared skeptically, but she kept her words to herself.

"I… that's kind of you," Blake said roughly, "but that's really not necessary."

"Nonsense," the shopkeeper said. "You saved our CCT and our academy from those White Fang zealots. You deserve this and more, but a free meal is all I can give." The shopkeeper forced a pen out alongside the order ticket. "I insist."

Blake looked to her teammates again, who were just as unhelpful in the decision making process now as they were before. She took up the pen and, with a sigh, put a facsimile of her signature on it.

"I appreciate your kindness," Blake said, doubtful but attempting to be gracious.

"It's what my sister would have wanted."

The shopkeeper now had the group's full attention.

"She was a huntress," he said. "Graduated from Haven a couple years ago. Everyone was incredibly proud of her." His boisterous stature seemed to shrink. "She… died while she was out helping to cull the Grimm in the days after what happened at Beacon." His voice, gruff as it was, became rougher still. With words slowly enunciated, he continued, saying, "She believed in what the academies stand for… so for me, it was as good as a personal favor, what you did."

He accepted the ticket back from Blake and scribbled something above it. Moments later, his cook had the orders served up in portable containers, which he then packed into paper bags. He banished the somber attitude and grinned broadly at the girls.

"Take these with my thanks," the shopkeeper said as he dropped the bags on the counter. "Bon appetit!"

With food for thought and for their bellies, the four members of Team RWBY sat in the yard of the guest house and ate. For a short while, things seemed almost… normal. They were together, and they were eating, and sharing each other's company in a way that had not been the case for months too many.

Yang seemed to respond to this; her mood brightened like the sun's face after a cloud's passing as she slurped her noodles and traded jibes with Ruby. Their laughter was something Blake never thought she'd miss; hearing it, she hadn't realized how silent her life had become.

Weiss sat beside Blake and quietly ate her meal, only participating in the banter as she was dragged in or queried by her partner for an opinion on the small talk. Blake herself remained quiet, considering the words of the shopkeeper at the stand. Her food went mostly ignored as she sat with her chin in her hands; the hunger that once roared now settled as a dull pain she could ignore.

"Blake?" She found silver eyes waiting for her when she lifted herself out of her introspection. "Is everything okay?" Ruby's eyes darted to Blake's food container, which had gotten as far as being opened and having chopsticks jammed into its contents.

Blake acknowledged that it was abundantly clear that she wasn't doing well. Her teammates were simply too polite to pry further, or perhaps they were still feeling awkward as their reacquaintance continued. At any rate, her discontent was between her and a certain blonde, who presently eyed her from above the brim of her diminished takeout box.

"I'm fine now," Blake said, attempting to put them at ease. She took stock of eyes blue, silver and lilac, spending just long enough in their gaze to read the first emotion of each. "I just… I thought I lost her back there."

A silence fell over the four of them. The first one to act out of turn was Yang, who shuffled uneasily to adjust her seated position. Her eyes drifted out to the Mistrali crags beyond the fencing on the yard, a steep drop just on the other side. Blake followed her partner's eyes, and she couldn't argue with the view. Were it under a better mood. The gloom did not fit the sunny autumn morning.

"It was a close call," Weiss said, finally breaking the ice. "But that's nothing new," she added with a sigh. Her fingers caressed a certain spot just below her ribcage, on the left of her abdomen. "It seems like we're always cutting it close."

"Life of a huntress," said Ruby, the rise in her voice making an earnest effort at chasing away the grave air. "But we're here to catch each other," she said, smiling.

There was another moment of quiet, but it was a warmer one. Tired, but agreeable. Blake finally felt a bit of her appetite return, and she took up her food and filled the space between words with small bites. Despite knowing it was her fault for waiting, Blake still felt a mild disappointment at how quickly the meal went cold.

Yang let out a sigh, and she crumpled her now empty container within her right hand. She hid her eyes for a moment, and then she looked up and fixed upon her sister with a sullen gaze.

"How screwed am I?"

Blake doubted that they could hide anything from Professor Ozpin. At a glance, he figured out her faunus heritage. He always seemed to know what their schemes were in school. Perhaps it was all part of a larger plan of his. Blake would not be surprised in the least if he somehow already knew that she and Yang had been missing for most of the night.

But it wasn't just Ozpin. Now it was Oscar, except Ozpin as well. What Blake struggled with now was the revelation that Ozpin lived on within Oscar. The unbelievable nature of the story besides, it also made Blake uneasy. That fairy tale didn't end well. At least it lent possibility to Ozpin being unaware of their misadventure.

Qrow was another matter. It surprised Blake that Ruby was willing to cover for Yang. Yang was ready to own up to her mistakes, and that besides they had information that would benefit the Kingdom and Academy. Perhaps they would still share that, but Ruby was going to put herself in the line of fire to soften the blow.

Blake didn't know Qrow that well, but she knew from their brief meeting at Beacon that he was an impatient man given to belligerence. Still, if it wasn't for Qrow, Ruby and Yang's stories would have come to an early and tragic end.

The parallels between that story from Yang's past and their recent misadventure were not lost on Blake.

As soon as the meal was done, Ruby decided that she and Weiss would catch up with the rest of their group, who had all gone to Haven Academy to assist with cleanup efforts. Blake almost forgot about the closure of the police investigation following the White Fang's assault, and she was determined to be present. At least she intended to be, before last night.

They did not ask Yang nor herself to join them. An invitation was implied, but Yang excused them without giving Blake a chance to respond. Though she was annoyed, that resentment fell away when she caught the protective look in Yang's eyes. Blake quickly, silently forgave Yang for her vigilance, and recognized that perhaps it was her mounting debt to her partner that was causing her to be frustrated.

Blake and Yang saw Ruby and Weiss off from the front of the house. When the smaller members of Team RWBY turned the corner of the road and vanished from sight, Yang let out a sigh. Blake turned her head aside slowly, and Yang was waiting for her attention with a bright smile. But its incandescence waned, and Yang's eyes searched for something neither of them could perceive. Yang crossed her arms and hung her head.

They had the house to themselves. The thought kicked off a strange stirring in the pit of Blake's stomach, and it seemed odd that she should feel this nervous. The mere act of opening her mouth to speak was made uncontrollable by the anxiety, and her breaths stuttered.

From the top, Blake thought, wresting control of her functions. Just you and me… as it's always been.

"Yang," she said, her voice quavering. "I—"

"Blake!" A familiar, youthful voice carried her name upon rising thermal currents. Blake felt her features twitch. Sun could have picked a better time to come visiting.

The tall blonde rounded the corner at the bottom of the road, and up the path he strolled, his eyes reflecting the sky and carefree demeanor carried through in every stride. His approach accelerated, excitement evident as he noticed Yang standing next to her.

Yang's face had relaxed in surprise but gradually tightened back up. Her folded arms relaxed from the earlier tightness and she shook her hair back behind her shoulders as Sun closed the last few yards between them. Blake thought on the last time that she saw both blondes in the same place before Haven Academy, and her brows wrinkled up at the memory.

Yang in a hospital bed. Sun asleep at the bedside. Her shadow as she left them behind.

Blake grit her teeth, wanting to turn Sun away. It was not a good time, and if she didn't know better she would imagine that Sun's semblance was a knack for arriving at either the perfect or worst time. No in-between, just a coinflip and a laugh between the fates. She felt fatigue on her like a leaden cloak, but Blake held herself back and allowed their peer to greet them.

"Yo, Yang!" Sun said, his hand held up for a high five. "Comeback of the year! You're looking great!"

Blake saw the skepticism cross lilac eyes. Dirty, disheveled, tired and drained would have been more apt terms for either of them. As nothing was said, it appeared as though Sun's faux pas dawned on him; his gaze alighted on the gleam of Yang's prosthetic arm and his smile dimmed in magnitude. The fingers on his upheld hand wiggled nervously before curling and retracting altogether. He grinned sheepishly.

Yang's bemused glare eased into a smirk, her eyes narrowed playfully. "Nice to see you too, Sun," she said, her voice a bit on the high side. The truth wasn't going to evade Sun for long, however; his eyes flit between Yang and Blake, picking up the more obvious signs of distress.

"What... happened?" Sun's brows pinched together as he finally took the finer details of their states into consideration. "You guys look like you've been in a fight."

"It's a long story," Yang said with a dismissive flip of the hand. "I'm gonna go wash up—I'll give you two a minute," she added softly. Yang bobbed her head towards Sun. Her hand came up and squeezed Blake on the shoulder.

Dried blood still stained the crevasses of Yang's fingers, her nails caked in dark red. Blake's eyes raised further and she caught a melancholy glance on an otherwise gentle smile. Their eyes lingered for a moment before Yang turned hers aside, their inner glow dimmed. She pivoted towards the front door, her gaze never leaving the path. A few long strides and she was inside. The door shut behind Yang, and Blake felt a cold sharpness between her shoulderblades.

The urge to give chase nearly took command of Blake's muscles. The ache spread like a bruise in her heart as she held herself back. She trembled, then settled; forcing Yang into anything was a futile endeavor.

"Is… this a bad time?" Blake looked back and confusion was writ plain on Sun's face. His posture slumped and his tail hung stiff and without life. She glared, not out of contempt but because he appeared to be completely oblivious to the signs that she thought were clear as the day. The pain in her chest dulled to a tightness that radiated to her throat, and her eyes felt overwhelmingly hot all of a sudden.

"What are you doing here, Sun?" Blake kept her voice soft, but her choice of words could have been gentler. She was barely able to hide her annoyance.

"I just wanted to check up on you. See how you were doing, how you were getting on with the gang. Speaking of, I saw Ruby and Weiss on the way." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, back down the path he came up from. "I thought you were gonna be at Haven today?"

"That… was the plan." Blake wrapped her arms around herself, a pall of shame coming over her. "Yang and I got into some trouble last night," she said, elaborating before he could ask. "We just got back."

Mischief shone in Sun's eyes. "Sheesh, that didn't take long," he said while winking. "You guys must have hit it off pretty good to get back into it so quickly!"

Fresh memories clashed violently like pages torn from a book by a whirlwind. A shuddering breath left her, and she felt small in the grip of her own hands.

Sun went quiet. His grin faded. Instead of talking, Sun allowed himself a few moments to use those summer sky eyes for perception rather than charm, for once. "Did I say something wrong?"

Blake looked up. She became aware of the way her cheeks felt colder in the breeze than they had moments ago. The newfound wetness flowed slowly from the corners of her eyes, large droplets that gathered and rolled away.

Sun stiffened and seemed at a loss. Blake stood silently, her eyes averted slightly as the tears continued to drip. She wanted to do nothing less than explode. A pressure was building in her chest and it was suffering. To collapse, to cry and sob her eyes out would have at least exhausted her to the point where she could finally sleep. At least then she wouldn't have to agonize about problems that she couldn't even solve.

She felt a hand engulf her shoulder. Blake refocused her gaze, and Sun shaded her from the late morning light with his greater height.

"It's okay, Blake," he said evenly. "You can talk to me. I don't know, but maybe it'll help you out?"

Blake sniffed, trying to ignore how gross it sounded. "It's not me, Sun." Blake's chest was so tight that she felt breathless after those words, and she needed to breathe again before continuing. "It's Yang."

Blake went on to explain the major points of the evening. She wasn't actually reading when everything kicked off. She was asleep in the same room as Ruby and Weiss. As it happened to be, Blake's bed was against the same wall shared by Yang's room. The sound of Yang tossing and turning restlessly woke her up. She could hear Yang's unrest as though they were both in the same room.

She explained how she became alarmed that Yang was departing when she heard her leave the room, then the house. Blake described how she tracked Yang down in spite of her head start, and how they met in the forest's edge several miles south of Mistral's limits.

Then she described the Grimm. The Beowolves. The King Taijitu. The fall into the mines. The way that Yang's injury slowed them down. How they ran into an unknown type of Grimm that could induce images of dark thoughts, although Blake leaned more towards the hallucinations being actual copies due to the way they could interact with them. And finally, the climb and the horde of Grimm, the trek through the craggy valleys and hills of Anima, and the encounter with the Beringel that almost cost her her partner.

By the end of her tale, Blake had managed to seal up her box of emotions once again. Surprising, seeing how they threatened to consume her just moments ago. Now she felt numb, and that was its own loathsome sensation but it wasn't important in the moment. Breathless and with her throat in pain, Blake concluded her recollection with a feeble gesture. Blake did her best to dance around the details that could have embarrassed Yang. She trusted Sun to be discreet, but it was simply out of respect for her partner.

"Yang said she forgives me," Blake said, "on the condition that I forgive myself. But it's her, Sun! She's the one who isn't forgiving herself. And it's killing me. I've offered my ear, I keep telling her I'll be there for her. But… I don't think she trusts me still." Blake blinked something back, a prickling in her eyes.

When Blake did not find anything to add after several moments, Sun, who was so compelled into thought that he had his chin pinched in hand, spoke up.

"Maybe she does, maybe she doesn't," he said. "From the sounds of it, she relied on you a lot while you guys were out there. Especially in the mines." Sun gave his head a shake. "That place would be a nightmare for anyone, but anyone who's not a faunus? You wouldn't catch me dead in a creepy mine."

Blake chuckled gruffly. Sun's way of wording things remained silly and precocious. Laughter seemed like the only proper response, even weakly. "I guess she did." Blake brushed a hand over her eyes and found them painfully dry. She was forced to squeeze them shut to soothe them.

"No guessing about it," Sun continued. "She may not say it, but Yang definitely trusts you. You have to stop beating yourself up over the stuff that happened." Sun tapped the side of his head with a forefinger. "Remember what we talked about? Yang did what she felt she had to do. Maybe it was the right choice, maybe it wasn't. The point is, she made it."

"But she almost… died." The word was real enough anymore that Blake dreaded the mere sound of it..

"But she didn't!"

Blake made a low sound in her throat. They're the same, I swear. That was such a Yang thing to retort with. Though her sight was still blurry, Blake found the pain dulled enough to open her eyes again. Despite the lack of focal strength, her glaring power was no less diminished. A fuzzy rendition of Sun snapped his arms out in a shrug.

"I don't want people to go throwing their lives away for me," Blake said firmly.

"And that's not your choice to make!" Sun's voice hardened. Blake felt her blood pressure rising. They were really going to butt heads over this again, weren't they?

"Stop looking at it like that," he added, the edge in his tone gone as quickly as it arose. "It's a gift, Blake. Life out here is rough and it can be short. No one knows that better than us huntsmen. Tomorrow could be the end of one of us. Knowing that, do you really think she's doing it lightly?"

Blake already knew the answer to that. With a defeated sigh, she shook her head.

"Right. So, you want to help Yang? Then just do it!" Sun thrust a finger towards the upper floor windows. "You were there to help her when she needed it, even when she didn't want it. That hasn't changed. You've just got less Grimm to worry about now."

Blake dipped her head a little. "I'm sorry, Sun."

"Huh?" The grin he wore carried even into his words. "Whatever for?"

"I'm feeling a little overwhelmed right now. I didn't mean to snap at you." She felt her ears flatten out. Guilty eyes lifted from her feet and regarded Sun apologetically.

Sun's enthusiasm dimmed, and Blake was not remiss of the fact. When it seemed like he had difficulty forming words, Blake began to feel real concern.

"Sun?"

He snapped back to attention, blue eyes regaining clarity.

"Sorry. It's just that you guys are finally back together and you're acting like it's all going wrong." Sun waved to get Blake's attention. When she followed his gesture, he rewarded her with a bright smile. "But Yang needs you. Trust me on this one. Give her some time and she'll come around. You just gotta be there when she's ready."

Blake let her arms fall to her sides. Finally, she raised a hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She smiled as a direction became clear.

"Thank you, Sun."

Sun beamed, as he was wont to do. "I'm no fortune-teller, but something tells me that things will be back to normal before you know it. Better than normal."

Of that Blake felt doubtful. But there was no harm in a little optimism, right? Suddenly, her balance wobbled, and the world lost its weight for a moment. Sun's eyes went wide and he reached out to just barely brush his fingers against her shoulder as Blake regained herself.

"You gonna be alright?" he asked, concern painting his features.

"I just need to lie down." Blake favored her head. The overwhelming urge to break down was gone, but an unwelcome tension lingered in her throat and head.

"Just go and do that, then. I was kinda hoping to hang out, but that's okay. I gotta go and meet Neptune here in a bit anyway. Need anything before I go?"

"No," she said, looking at him through her fingers. "Say hi to Neptune for me."

"Tell him yourself!" Sun said, laughing as he turned around. "We'll be back."

"Thanks for the warning."

Sun laughed and walked off. Blake waved after him and watched his figure grow smaller. When he finally turned the corner on the winding path, Blake looked towards the front doors.

She took a breath and went inside.

The faint sound of running water was the first thing that she noticed in the otherwise quiet abode. She's still in the shower, Blake thought as she shut the door behind herself. The great room opened up before her, its inviting spaces cold despite the warm colors, red and green and chestnut. Passing through the parlor, she bore towards the staircase. She took the steps with unusual caution, knowing her half-awake state. Each pace she measured until she was in the second floor corridor.

Though she had given herself a quick rinse at the stream, it hardly counted for a bath. And at any rate, they had been in battle since then, and whatever filth she had been done with was replaced in the fight with the Beringel. She wondered if she had the will to stay up long enough to bathe. The sound of the water was incredibly inviting, though…

Blake raised a hand to the door of the room she shared with Ruby and Weiss. Her eyes drifted to the neighboring door. Yang's bedroom.

The door was open. Her brows quirked

A frown crossed her face. Blake wasn't sure if it was at the consideration she was giving to what was essentially intrusion, or if it was because of the conversation she had with Ruby the first night they spent together since they were reunited.

"Why is Yang sleeping by herself?"

"That's the way it's been since I was old enough to have my own room."

"But it wasn't at Beacon. Isn't she lonely?"

"... Yeah."

"Aren't you worried about her?"

"Of course I am. But she always says she's fine. I know she's not… but you know Yang."

Blake felt her heart breaking. She knew Yang was struggling, but the full picture wasn't clear until their jaunt in the wilds. Why was she refusing the support of even her own sister?

Before she even realized it, Blake had leaned her head into Yang's room. It was clean… uncharacteristically so. She recalled their time at Beacon, how Yang's bed was always a tangle of unmade sheets and beaten up pillows. Sometimes there were even snack food wrappers tucked into the folds of the comforter. Blake had the misfortune of bunking right underneath that, at least once waking up to a beef jerky foil in her hair.

The late morning light streamed in through the slits two windows' curtains. A glint caught Blake's eye, and when she resolved what it was she drew a sharp breath.

Yang's prosthetic.

It was placed with care on the nightstand of one of the beds, laid on the gold-painted side so that the palm of the hand faced upward. Her gauntlet sat alongside it, the breech open, and a gun cleaning kit next to them; Yang intended to do routine maintenance or had done it already. At the foot of the bed sat a yellow sports bag with Yang's unmistakable emblem in black. It was open, a few pieces of clothing halfway stuffed into it. Her leather jacket laid on the bed itself, unzipped and aired out.

Blake stepped inside and walked to the center of the room. Curiosity had gotten the better of her, and a selfish impulse to know more fought with her better sense of ethics even as she looked around.

Ransacking. She drew the line at ransacking. No rummaging, rifling, or searching. Things that were left out were fair game, she could write it off if she was caught; but she wouldn't go picking through Yang's belongings.

Next to the jacket, Yang's scroll sat open on the bed. Stepping closer, Blake read the article on the screen.

Her stomach dropped.

HEADMASTER LIONHEART KILLED—Haven Suspects Still On The Run, White Fang Leader Adam Taurus Still At Large, blared the headline. The article was scrolled to the end; Yang had read it.

Blake knew about living in Adam's shadow. Sleeping became difficult and she couldn't help feeling like he was always there, just out of the edge of her periphery. The little shadows around a corner became monsters, and going through daily life became an act of attrition. It was a long time before she could even act without worrying about invoking his ire, despite his absence.

Was that it?

It made her sick to think that Yang was possibly going through the same thing. Blake knew that he was separated from his power base, no doubt on the road to being ostracized by the other members of the White Fang. But that didn't mean she felt better about it. It wouldn't mean that Yang would feel better about it. The scars remained, burning like a brand.

Anger welled up until Blake felt tongues of fire in her eyes. In an effort to take her thoughts off of her former partner, her attention drifted over the open sports bag.

Her expression softened. Blake walked over to it and stood, losing an inner debate. The shimmer of glossy paper beckoned.

She broke her one rule.

Blake drew the photograph out of the sports bag. She made a wistful sound, a sigh and a broken word. The lineup was of their younger selves—Ruby, Weiss, Yang and herself. "NEW FRIENDS!" the red ink practically shouted, and it didn't take a second thought to imagine whose handwriting that was. She could already read the words in Ruby's voice.

"Blake?"

Her body jolted violently. Clammy fingers lost grip of the photo and it fluttered to the bed, the leaf of an autumn memory. Breathing became loud in the silence. Blake turned in place and came to face Yang, now standing in the doorway.

Her eyes were cool but piercing, slowly but surely piecing together the scene around Blake. Her wet hair gleamed like spun gold and clung to the angles and curves of her muscular shoulders, and a bath towel hung around her neck. A black sports bra and a pair of loose gray pajama pants were her only pieces of attire. Briefly, Blake marveled at how much the clothes changed her, how she looked more like Yang Xiao Long the girl, rather than Yang Xiao Long the huntress. Her imposing stature was made soft by a healthy weight and the heady scent of her floral shampoo, something with citrus notes and honeysuckle.

Then her eyes drifted to the terminus of her right arm, the sudden ceasing right above where her elbow used to be. Her admiration quickly sobered. They were close enough that Blake could feel the heat radiating from Yang, but it wasn't enough to stave off the chills from seeing her in such a vulnerable state.

Blake felt lightheaded. In waiting for Yang to say something, anything, she forgot about things like breathing. She drew a sharp breath, if only to keep herself from feeling faint.

Yang spoke with her eyes. At first they were wide, surprised. And as she gradually became aware of the things Blake must have seen or thought, they became dim, half-lidded. She followed Blake's gaze, and it was like she knew what she was thinking.

Yang stepped towards her bed. Blake hurried across the room, getting out of the way. The towel around Yang's neck hit the bed, and she retrieved the scroll and shuttered it. Slowly, Yang eased herself onto the bed and moved close to the nightstand, from which she pulled her hairbrush. With a toss of her head, Yang had the bulk of her hair over her right shoulder. She proceeded to run the brush through her immense mane, and for a minute the only sound was of Yang's methodical combing.

Blake watched and trembled. Was she angry? Was this okay with her? Should she… help?

Blake couldn't find the will to speak. Inside it felt as though she stood on a house of cards. She tread precarious ground as it was, seeing the old photo. A lifetime ago, it might as well be, but the yearning for simpler times wrenched at her.

"Do you need something?" Yang said, finally breaking the silence. Blake felt her legs wobble. Fortunately, the bed was there to catch her just one step back. Blake fell upon it, eyes fixed on her partner.

Yang didn't break pace. Stroke by stroke, each one measured. Practiced. Slow, as if unnatural to the hand. A simple task made difficult. Yang was not left-handed. It struck Blake how much Yang had to relearn. It might have been mentioned, but seeing it was altogether… raw. Raw as the red and black of the broken skin on Yang's knuckles.

"I… actually wanted to ask you that," Blake said. She glanced at the prosthetic, then back to its owner. "Why don't you use your…"

"My hair gets caught in the joints," Yang responded predictively. "It's easier this way."

Blake rounded her mouth, but made no sound. She looked down briefly, then she raised her head. "Would you like me to help?"

The brushing stopped. Blake felt the air grow cold again, and Yang did not look up from her knees, though she seemed to be weighing something in her mind.

"I'm good," she said after a heavy moment's consideration, and she went back to brushing.

"Oh." Her feline ears wilted. "Okay."

Blake was disappointed, but she understood. Yang was very personal about her hair, and Blake was trying to respect her independence besides. Still seeking ways she might ease her partner's burden, she looked at the prosthetic sitting on the nightstand. "I could clean your arm for you while you do that," Blake suggested.

"I'm good," Yang repeated, not pausing this time to deliver the message.

Fair. Her arm was rather personal and advanced. Maybe it was for the best that she didn't mess with it. But Blake had handled Ember Celica before, if only for utility. She was about as proficient with it as Yang was skilled at wielding Gambol Shroud, but at least she knew how to take care of it.

"I've cleaned your gauntlet befo—"

"Blake."

Yang's voice trembled dangerously. An unpleasant wire pulled at Blake's head, the sensation of her ears folding back reflexively, as though anticipating a very loud noise.

Blake stared and waited with heightened caution. When still nothing was said, Yang went back to brushing her hair. At least, she attempted it.

Her left hand shook.

As Yang tried to run the brush through her hair, instead of drawing the bristles in a straight line they bounced back and forth and created a horrible tangle. Yang's brows knit as she tried to force the matter, and it worsened. Her frustration exploded. The brush hit the tatami and Blake flinched at the bang, her heart skipping. The clatter of the brush echoed in the room and in her head.

The sight of Yang seizing her hand between her right arm and her body hollowed Blake's chest and scalded itself into her memory. Her hand shot out towards Yang, fingers splayed, and she felt her heart drumming like they were at the cliff's edge all over again.

"Yang, are you—"

"I'm fine!" she hissed. Yang hunched over herself, her body trembling. After a lingering moment, she looked up, and a deep look of shame had sunken into her face. Her eyes watered, and Blake felt her eyes doing the same.

"Aren't you going to take a bath?" Yang said lowly, more a statement than a question. Her eyes were downcast.

"Yang, please." Blake couldn't suppress the shiver in her voice anymore. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here. I'm not leaving you to suffer by yourself again! I…" She recalled what she said to Sun, the words she used. "It's killing me to see you like this."

Yang glared at the ground. Her gaze, piercing as always, just avoided meeting Blake's.

"Then maybe it's better that you go," she said icily. "I didn't want you to see me like this." Yang looked up and locked eyes with Blake. "Now, you know why."

Blake searched. She searched and sought and thought of the right words to say. But for all her reading, nothing came to mind. Her tired brain drew a complete blank, or on the other extreme a board with a field of overlapping script. Nothing helpful, nothing coherent. She struggled beneath Yang's withering stare, but eventually time ran out and Yang turned away. In one angry sweep she pushed her belongings off the bed, including that picture from their early days at Beacon. Her body hit the bed in the next moment, and she turned away from Blake to face the wall.

Blake felt empty. Wraithlike. Like she was only partially alive at that point. Blake lifted herself from the bed and drifted towards the door. Perhaps out of self-indulgence, she let her eyes linger on Yang before she stepped out.

The bolt clicked in Blake's ears. She leaned back against the door and closed her eyes, a broken breath escaping through her nostrils. As the noise died, Blake picked up another sound. Someone choking. Sobbing.

Yang. Her lips formed the shape of the name, but it came out soundlessly.

Blake closed her eyes again and tried to find some small guiding thought, some spark of inspiration. Something, anything, a sign that would tell her how to take pain away from another. Her breathing grew rough, and without knowing it her eyes were pouring silently.

A shower. It was a good idea. Blake took Yang's suggestion to heart and went to clean herself up. At least this way she could drown out the anguish, the bitter sounds of the strongest person she knew as she broke in two.

The real monsters are the ones in our hearts. Honestly one of the toughest things I've had to write, because I wasn't sure if I was doing it justice. Mental illness doesn't just affect the victim, but also those that love them. In an effort to minimize the damage, those of us who are besot with these invisible ailments often hide them or shut out those closest to us. Anyhow, I don't mean to be a downer, if that's how it was taken. Worry not, for the night is darkest before dawn, and all that.

Major thanks to everyone who has given me feedback or commentary. That you take the time out of your lives to personally respond to my writing has unquantifiable meaning to me. As always, messages, comments and feedback is always welcome! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and look forward to the next.