Chapter Five: Trust
Written by: JayEmEl
Edited by: Cowjump
Check out the BUMBLEBEE (unofficial) TRAILER on Youtube! The link is on my profile.
WARNING: Part of this chapter contains elements of gendered and racial violence. Reader discretion is advised.
I should have listened to Adam. I should have listened to Adam. God, I should have listened to Adam!
Blake ran. She had been running for a while now – how long, she didn't know, but enough that her legs were weakening, knees threatening to buckle at every impact of her steps. Her heart was pounding so sharply in her chest she could feel it thudding in her head, insistent and almost deafening. This wasn't some light jog to test her endurance. She had been training regularly, and this had nothing to do with a mere cardio exercise. No, Blake was sprinting with every speck of energy she could muster because her life depended on it. Adam had warned her. Repeatedly. But she had refused to heed a word of it.
My ears. God forsake it, my ears!
Black dots began to invade her vision, a sign that if she continued, she would faint. But she couldn't stop now. They were still behind her, their angry shouts only a few yards away, whispers of the wind carrying their promises of nothing but torment to her senses and crawling across her skin like a horde of venomous insects. How they had managed to keep up with her was a mystery, but this race to save her life was going to be her downfall. She was panting so severely she could barely even intake the oxygen her muscles needed to function. Her surroundings had become a haze, buildings and streets and landmarks blurring together to form discolored barriers in every direction she glanced. She had no idea where she was.
The Faunus should not have needed to hide their heritage. They should not have been ashamed of who they were. And while the humans could throw all the insults they could possibly imagine at her, Blake would still walk with her head held high and prove that her kind were not just vulgar animals. She would answer the racist comments with a controlled attitude, a mild spirit, and an exemplary behavior. She may have yet been a child, but her comprehension of the situation had amazed more than one. Adam didn't understand that violence only bred more violence. Blake would not don that bow – would not conceal from society an inheritance she should have been proud of – but would rather be living proof to testify before all of humanity that the Faunus were deserving of equal treatment and rights.
But now, as she stumbled once and scraped her palms on the pavement to avoid crashing altogether, legs protesting excruciatingly and her entire body clamoring a moment of rest, Blake began to realize why the bow was at least a reasonable idea. It had nothing to do with cutting her pride, defiance, courage, or whatever other righteous cause she could think of down to size. At the very basis, it was for her own safety. And maybe Adam had known that. Maybe Adam had only been looking out for her.
She had rebuked him for it.
Too drained and on the verge of losing consciousness, Blake used what awareness she had left of her location's layout to veer suddenly to her right, straight into a decrepit alleyway. She collided with the ground, rolling over herself once and then finishing on her back. Moaning, bruised, and mindful that she couldn't just lay there in plain sight, she pulled herself to the brick wall, behind a large metal garbage container that smelled of rotting meat. A swarm of flies buzzed off, angry at having been disturbed.
The irony of the situation was not lost on Blake. It was her very standpoint that had forced her to flee – as if she were some coward – that had obliged her to make a choice which, in the end, all came down to a single basic truth: be the predator, or become the prey. The hunter or the hunted. And no matter what angle she looked at the dilemma from, it changed nothing; she was the animal in either case. The snake or the mouse. The eagle or the fish. The lion or the gazelle. They would view it no other way. And, really, weren't these primal rationalizations shedding light on the line between feral and sapient?
Blake hated it. She hated that, at her motor core, her mind was a slave to her instincts, and only by sheer determination and self-control could she act and think of her own free volition. As if, by some ruthless scheme of fate, a war for dominance would forever rage on in her head. It annulled all of her efforts, everything she fought for and believed in, and gave the humans leverage to use against her and her kind. It made her a liar and a hypocrite.
She closed her eyes, clenching her teeth to stop from breathing loudly, from chattering. She held back another moan – the hammering of her heart against her skull wouldn't calm. It was about then that she took note of the subtle rain and moisture seeping into her clothes, chilling her until goosebumps crawled across her skin. The ground was cold and dirty, and her hands were bleeding. Deep inside, she knew her odds of escaping unscathed were null.
At least her instincts granted her a kind of sixth sense, which had often saved her from deceitfully harmless scenarios before danger struck. Sometimes, though, she wished they were less astute. Like now. She could've worked with a little naive hope, as this certainty of being caught only petrified her.
The gradual approach of several running footsteps came to a sudden halt.
"Where did it go?!" a gruff but fairly young voice demanded, far too near for her liking. "It disappeared right around here. Search for it!"
Blake's conviction was reinforced when it occurred to her that her hiding spot was not a clever one. Fear clawed at her guts as if wanting to shred them, and her teeth were clamped shut so tightly it hurt. She couldn't think, let alone move – she was so tired. She wouldn't have the strength to resist, to defend herself. They wouldn't have any pity on her. To them, she was just some vermin poisoning their lives, not even worthy of being recognized as a 'she.'
"Hey, Mark. I found it." A snicker.
Blake opened her eyes, too exhausted to glare, only feebly gazing up at the boy standing before her, pleading him quietly to show her mercy. She drew no joy from lowering herself to such a pathetic level. But they had discovered her faster than she had anticipated. Yet if it somehow demonstrated that she was a creature with feelings, thoughts, not devoid of intelligence...
She met his regard and saw nothing but a cruel glint of arrogance and mockery, the venom that fed this want to abuse and dominate. He reached down and roughly grabbed her arm, hauling her up and showing her off to the other two pursuers like some prize he had won. Two pairs of eyes peered at her with the morbid curiosity of a child who had received an unknown plaything and, after a long brazen inspection, decided they didn't like this new toy. It was humiliating, degrading her to the status of a mere tawdry object.
Blake tried to disengage from the boy holding her, but her attempt was weak and he reacted unfavorably, wrenching her arms back to stop her from trying again. "Oh, no you don't, you stupid cat! You're going nowhere now that we've got you."
"You're talking to it like it understands you, Joel," the young man in front of her spoke, the one with the gruff voice who wasn't quite out of puberty yet – probably Mark. He grinned wickedly and strode towards Blake, only to send his fist into her stomach with unrestrained force, adding in a low, grating murmur as the Faunus doubled over, "It's an animal. And it needs to be shown its place in the world because it doesn't know that, either."
Blake was winded, but before she could process the pain, the boy behind her – Joel – kicked her above the calves in quick succession, causing her fall to her knees. It was then that she started coughing violently, face almost pressed to the cement, frantic for air. An unforgiving hand gripped her raven locks and yanked her head backwards. Wincing, she found herself staring into the menacing orbs of the oldest of the group. He sneered before spitting in her face, immediately jerking her downwards as Joel let her smash into the ground without resistance.
The three began laughing as Blake both shuddered and whimpered. She attempted to wipe the saliva off her cheek but instead only smeared it with blood – just another stain that wouldn't so much temporarily soil her skin as it would permanently taint her soul. Breathing harshly, she began crawling to escape from the trio. Her mind was fogged and shame burned through her as much as pain did. Through the ringing in her ears and the roaring of their mirth, the only thing she knew for certain was that she had to try and get away. But it was an effort made in vain. One of them grabbed her shoulders and brutally pulled her onto her back, directly in the center of the three. Horror-stricken, she cowered against the wall, desperately wishing this was an awful nightmare she would just wake up from.
Her training had taught her to use the shadows to her advantage. She was discreet, swift, and had fingers nimble enough to rob even the most cautionary victim in broad daylight. Her stealth allowed her to break into secure buildings without being caught. She could pick practically any lock thrown her way. The White Fang made these acquired skills mandatory, and at every instance it was the same monologue, one she had heard so often she had come to believe. They didn't teach her violence. This was part of their peaceful protests, this was to gather information, this was to prepare them, just in case. This was honorable.
But it didn't prepare her for such a dire situation. She was defenseless.
"Look at it. It's disgusting. Like some hybrid experiment gone wrong," Mark snidely noted, causing more chuckles to ensue. He then kicked her, hard. "It should have been killed before it was even born, and its mother with it!" The other two joined in, shouting encouragements to each other and insults to her. The first few kicks caught her in the abdomen and chest, knocking the breath from her yet again, before she managed to roll into an anguished ball, protecting her torso and head as best she could. Her ribs exploded with pain, and she cried, suffocating and slowly losing her hold on reality, on consciousness – it was so agonizing.
Even animals were shown more consideration than this.
Thankfully – mercifully – she heard a command to stop be ordered from somewhere far away. Like some Dust-infused miracle, it was obeyed. She didn't move, only shaking and sobbing, daring to hope that maybe someone was arriving to help...but that prospect was quickly crushed.
"Joel, hold its arms! Nate, its legs!"
They took hold of her, one of them grasping her wrists and the other her ankles, and briskly stretched her out to heave her off the ground. Blake screamed, her wounded muscles and injured ribs flaring in a phenomenal protest to the treatment she was receiving, and she almost blacked out right then and there. She glimpsed a small knife at her peripheral, and glacial dread swept through her, cold and implacable as the bite of the wind in winter. She wasn't going to survive this assault. They were out for blood.
But something much worse than death awaited her. Mark seized one of her cat ears and pulled. Blake whined, instinctively lifting her head to protect the sensitive appendage from further mishandling. But Mark kept his grip tight. He smirked, callous and sadistic. "Let's rid you of these ugly things nature gave you, shall we? Hold it still, guys."
Despite her enormous fatigue, despite the bruises and fractures she assuredly had, when it dawned on Blake that Mark was going to sever her cat ears from her head, a sudden burst of adrenaline pumped through her veins and focused the world around her so sharply that it became almost ethereal. The small fur-covered members protruding from her hair weren't just another part of the Faunus' body like her arms or her legs. They were precious, fragile, a part of Blake that anchored her to who she was and what she wanted. They were a symbol, going so far as to represent her closely guarded heart – candid, delicate, and perceptive.
"I'd rather die!" she hissed. "Let go of me!" But she couldn't risk struggling. Not when he still had her ear between his fingers. This brief renewal in strength would be absolutely useless if he didn't let go, even for just a second, and the distress this was causing Blake was attaining chimerical levels. She was utterly powerless – she knew it, and worse was that they knew it, too.
Mark ignored her and pressed the blade against the base of her feline appendage. Blake's trembling became violent and she pleaded for him not to do it. He might as well have been deaf...if it wasn't for the fact that he just laughed at her. She had never been this terrified in her life. One resounding thought became clearer and more powerful than the jumbled mess the others were, like it was suddenly the only thing that made sense in the world.
The Faunus may be animals...but the humans are monsters.
It made no sense at all, of course – Blake knew that, was well aware that generalizations led to prejudices and that such false beliefs contradicted everything she strived to achieve, and yet...and yet...
Mark started to cut.
Blake shrieked, tiny beads of crimson trickling through her hair and dripping to the dark pavement beneath her, staining the ground with her blood. The blade's edge tore through her – she could feel it under her skin, ripping her heart, carving her soul.
The talons of darkness were invading her vision once more when a deep, authoritative voice shouted, "Hey! Leave her alone!"
After that, everything was a bit of a blur. Mark released her, and so did the other two, dropping her carelessly and taking knives from their own pockets. A fifth person landed in the alley, someone who was younger than Mark but already bigger and taller than he was. Adam.
At the sight of him, the ten-year-old girl's relief was fantastical but also very short lived. The last thing she witnessed was Adam fighting her aggressors, clothing soaked from the rain, and she lost consciousness just as he was gripping the gun he had at his belt...
Later, when Blake came to her senses, first acknowledging the stillness of her surroundings and then the quiet drizzle falling from the grey sky above, she would afterwards lay eyes on her partner, her mentor, and Adam would have no visible reaction except wordlessly handing her a long piece of material, placing it in her open palm. Blake would only stare at it for a long moment, warring to control the overwhelming despair forming a knot in her throat, before ultimately losing the battle and collapsing into tortured sobs. Broken and sore, she would then close her fingers around the ribbon, hold it against her chest as she shook – an effect of the trauma – and vow to herself to never remove the bow in public from that moment forward. Never.
Some wounds were no more than superficial, sometimes they were so deep they traveled the distance to the metaphorical heart. And those, unfortunately, often never scarred over, never…healed.
Adam's silence had expressed more than what words could, a final twist of the blade in the gaping lesion. He had been right.
She had made a mistake in refusing to retaliate.
"Remnant to Blake. Hello? Remnant to Blake, do you copy?"
Blake suddenly blinked a few times, lonely alleyway and run-down buildings being replaced by tables scattered across the green grass outside, an intimidating Grimm mask fading from sight and the innocent silver eyes of Team RWBY's leader taking its place, peering at her curiously. Her mental transition from the past to the present was not easy, and she was almost surprised there were no clouds blocking out the sunlight or any dead bodies lying nearby, blood oozing from bullet wounds...
"So, what's it like on the moon, Blakey?" Yang amusedly asked from beside her.
RWBY and JNPR had crowded around one of the bigger picnic tables outside of the restaurant they had chosen to have lunch at, all eating the club sandwiches and fries they had ordered about fifteen minutes ago. It was a pleasant group meal, and the reigning outdoor ambiance contributed to the relaxed chatter of the individual conversations respective to their table and the others'.
The contrast between the current setting and the direction Blake's thoughts had traveled was rather flagrant...but not without cause. In fact, on a general basis, Blake would focus on more pleasant memories and reflections, well aware that concentrating on the atrocious ones too much would negatively influence her emotional health. But, every now and then, something would spur her to reminisce her past, and she couldn't always refrain from reliving it in her mind.
She would be lying if she said it didn't affect her sometimes, despite all the training she had received and the knowledge she had gained since the White Fang.
Blake turned her head and beheld her girlfriend's warm expression, from the mirth in her beautiful lilac gaze – laugh-lines creasing the outer corners – to the sincere curve of her mouth, and was able to draw a sliver of reassurance from the confidence and playfulness shining there, drawing her in and calling to mind a breathtaking sunset. Nevertheless, Blake was also reminded of what it was that had prompted such macabre recollections in the first place, and although quiet, the sigh that escaped her lips betrayed a more somber mood than what she allowed the others to see.
"Nothing as interesting as you make it sound," she replied, forcing herself to smile a bit and feeling relieved when Ruby, sitting across from her, appeared to buy it. Yang... Well, Yang had learned to read her quite impressively over the course of the past month, even more so than the progress she had made as a friend over their last two years at Beacon. Blake, in turn, had ceased to underestimate Yang's ability to see through her and was therefore not amazed when the humor dimmed from the golden girl's expression and concern took its place.
Under the table, Blake felt warm, strong fingers take her hand on her lap, and she immediately clasped them, accepting this mark of support and sharing a brief look with Yang to let her know she appreciated it. "Are you sure?" the blonde wondered gently, focusing the full force of her devoted attention on Blake. Her question was no longer referencing what could have hypothetically been entertaining on the moon – that much was obvious.
Ruby kept glancing at the two knowingly while she continued the discussion she was having with Jaune and Nora, and Blake took this as her cue to move on to other subjects. It would be an attempt at chasing the darkness that insisted to cling to her in the same way two lovers were intimately acquainted – an analogy so unfortunately accurate it verged on being literal. In response to her girlfriend, Blake nodded and said, "I'm sure. I was actually thinking that...since we're all sitting here together... Do you want to tell them now?"
Yang's eyebrows shot up almost comically high, as if the topic Blake had chosen to address stunned her.
True, the question was utterly unrelated to the bookworm's thoughts – or rather, it was entirely related – but perhaps it was more so the chosen timing of the announcement, too. They had agreed to go through with it, and although they hadn't spoken about the foreseeable problems in detail yet, it would be more advantageous for them to get the news out in the open, especially because, in the end, they both wanted it this way.
Yang was quick to grin, something that resembled the rise of the sun. "Allow me the honors?" And then, as if she knew Blake would be okay with it (How could she have said no, after all?) and as spontaneous as always, she hopped up – taking her plastic cup and a fork to make a series of hollow, muted clinks – and got everyone to quiet down. Blake had to shake her head at the goofball's antics but smiled at her enthusiasm. It was both calming on her nerves and touching.
Now being the center of attention, Yang cleared her throat and sat back down, once again entangling her fingers with Blake's, and declared, "So, Blake and I have this great news to share..."
She paused for a second, just for the sake of dramatic effect in that maddening Yang-like manner of hers, clearly double-checking that all eyes were on them, and announced, "We're a couple!" And then, to prove her words, and with a proud look in her eyes, she stirred Blake to put their united hands on the table and show it for all to see.
The reactions the they received were...startling, to say the least.
"Oh, finally!" Nora exclaimed extravagantly. "I thought we'd have to endure the googly-eyes and the long silences and the everything you guys do forever! I've been wanting to just lock the both of you in a room and never let you come out!" she smacked the wooden surface to emphasize her point and beamed like a maniac. "Congratulations!" she laughed, and Blake wondered, among many other unbidden thoughts, if she should have been worried for her safety. Because Nora really would have never let them out.
Never minding the food – although most of the plates were empty at this point, in any case – Ruby jumped over the table and crashed into both Blake and Yang, wrapping her arms around them in a bone-crushing hug and altogether knocking them off their bench, sending all three girls sprawling onto the soft ground. "I'm so happy for youuuuu! I've just been waiting for this moment ever since Yang told me you were gonna give it a try!" She giggled, and added, "Blake! It's like you're gonna be my sister now!"
Ruby's eagerness and joy were endearing, and Blake did chuckle a little as she sat up with Yang, but the beautiful girl was fast to rectify the situation, although laughing, herself. "Whoa, hold your horses there, Rubes," she snickered and hugged her younger sibling again. "Still working on that, if we get there. In the meantime, thanks! I'm glad you accept this so easily." She closed her eyes, embracing Ruby even tighter and grinning before adding, "Love ya, little sis."
Meanwhile, after overcoming a brief sentiment of inadequacy and forcing herself to give Ruby's shoulder a friendly squeeze, Blake managed to return to her seat. She nonetheless observed the heartwarming scene for a moment, watching the two girls sit back to talk a bit between themselves. It was so natural, this tenderness Yang had for her family, and Blake found her feelings for the social butterfly swelling within and filling her with the assurance that Yang was not a choice she would regret, no matter the final outcome. She didn't believe she deserved this selfless, impartial, and infinitely affectionate young woman, and the fact that Yang was trying so hard to remain by Blake's side as her companion and confidant was one of the qualities the raven-haired girl had difficulty dealing with. Blake wasn't good enough for this kind, generous soul, and it made no sense to her that this same person would be going to such lengths for her. Yang was attempting to overcome her own sexuality, for heaven's sake!
Blake would understand if, in the end, Yang decided it wasn't worth it. She would be heartbroken, but she would never be angry. Yang's presence in her life was a gift, an unexpected one, certainly, but if Blake lost her...
Well, there was no questioning whose fault it would be. Maybe this impression of inadequacy wasn't so brief after all.
"It was about time," Weiss muttered, pulling Blake from her thoughts. "You were making me sick."
Ah, yes. Another detail that eluded Blake's comprehension at the present moment, what with the high energy and the strong emotions circulating. She creased her eyebrows and tore her gaze from Yang and Ruby to regard the heiress. "None of you appear particularly surprised about this..." her voice wandered off, just as her eyes flickered to the others at the table, perplexed. Only Jaune needed to have his hanging jaw pushed shut, something Pyrrha did with two fingers as she smiled in polite apology at the girl in black.
"We...had our doubts," the emerald-eyed warrior confirmed delicately, glancing at Yang as her simper widened. "Yang isn't known for her subtlety, after all…"
Blake raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to ask for an elaboration – not because she didn't know Yang lacked certain...finesse; Blake rather wanted clarifications for what Pyrrha was referring to, exactly – but was interrupted before she could even speak.
"Let me just make something abundantly clear!" Weiss' tone was mildly annoyed, and Blake was prompt to give her undivided attention to the white-haired girl in case objections were thrown about the kind of couple she and Yang formed. It was true that Weiss' opinion on the Faunus had changed considerably since RWBY's first year as a team, and although she was helpful with and supportive of Blake, she had also demonstrated some reluctance to being less judgmental about the Faunus and the White Fang as a whole. And just as Blake had defended her kind before, she would do it again if she had to. It wouldn't be the first time this sort of altercation took place between her and Weiss anyway...
"I don't...like this change in relationship status." The Schnee heiress paused, deliberating, and put her finger up to discourage any disruptions. It appeared as if they would have sprung from more than just Blake. Weiss rolled her eyes. "Not because I'm against it, but because now we have to set up more rules, and I know for a fact that Yang is going to find ways to break every single one of them, just like she managed to do with the ones we made at the beginning of our first year."
Any tension that might have begun to build in the air was evaporated by that explanation. Nora even giggled and shared a knowing look with Pyrrha, who grinned and leaned over to kiss Jaune on the cheek. The poor boy blushed all the way to the tips of his ears. Blake admitted to feeling relieved that the issue was nothing short of an anticlimactic normal occurrence, as well, if she was honest with herself.
"I heard my name. What's up?" Yang might as well have materialized out of nowhere, her presence next to the bookworm was so sudden. She gave Blake a friendly wink before darting her gaze over each person's face and then focusing on Weiss. The amusement slowly died from her expression. "Are you giving this kitten a hard time again? You know I can't stand for that..."
Yang was probably one of the only people Blake knew who could so kindly, and with so much calm, insinuate that she was going to punch the individual she was talking with through a wall if they didn't smarten up – and it wouldn't be a threat. It would be a promise. And since Weiss had legitimately done nothing to deserve such a fate, Blake gently put her hand on Yang's upper arm, fingers grazing her iron-solid bicep, ensuring to first have her attention before she said, "Actually, Yang, Weiss was making a rather valid point..."
The girl in white was glaring, and spoke up just as Ruby was taking her spot beside her again, "Rules. We're going to make some, and I demand that you respect them, plus those we established before."
As if the seriousness of Weiss' tone hadn't registered, Yang started snickering and her muscles relaxed. "Blake and I barely even hold hands right now, and it's been a month already. I sorta doubt you'll find us making out on the bed anytime soon. Also, what are rules if not meant to be broken?"
"You got that right!"
"See? Even Nora agrees."
"Nora thinks it's okay to lock you and Blake up in a room forever, and break people's legs. I think her approval doesn't count."
"But does Ren share that opinion?"
"…"
"He nodded! Everything is valid!"
"Yang."
"What? Okay, so he didn't nod. Ruby, help me!"
"Uh, well...Weiss and Blake aren't wrong..."
And so it was settled.
That had been almost a week ago. They hadn't created any rules at that precise moment, but it was something they had sat down the next day to talk about, sometime after classes. It had been more important for them to enjoy the rest of their day at the carnival, once again going on rides as a group and taking the time to fully appreciate those leftover hours of respite. They hadn't returned to Beacon until late that same evening, exhaustion compelling them into their beds almost immediately. Nevertheless, they were satisfied with the events of their day, and their night's slumber had been both rewarding and undisturbed.
But, again, that had been a week ago. Blake was now in the middle of a combat examination in Professor Goodwitch's homeroom, and allowing her thoughts to vagabond would only interfere with her performance.
She was quick to return her focus to the battle at hand. Only two Creeps and three Beowolves remained from the most recent – and last – wave to defeat. Secretly, Blake was relieved to have taken down the King Taijitu early – although it had been a bit of a fluke, as killing the toughest Grimm monster in the group first was not her usual manner of proceeding. She had been forced into wasting precious energy by doing so, though, when the horde had made her retreat directly into the Taijitu's reach. Already being fatigued by fighting the previous bunches, Blake really had no other choice but to exterminate the more formidable foe before her strength was completely depleted.
Two Creeps and three Beowolves should not have been much more of a problem. But, as it was, she had been combatting wave after wave on her own for the better part of two hours, and she was tired. Her movements had slowed, her dance-like fighting style beginning to lose its purpose.
Dancing had its rules and rhythm, after all, but it could just as well be chaotic and desultory; she could learn the steps and even know them by heart, or she could let the cadence take her and influence her moves instead – instinctive, fierce, and lethal. The Grimm would be an example of inconsistent and disordered, but Blake wasn't stumped by this. Even chaos had a pulse, and all she needed to do was fall into sync, finding each creature's time – and then break it.
Ruthless. That's what she was. Adam had taught her to be so. The White Fang had inculcated savage insurrection while she had only strived for righteous justice. And if this struggle hadn't already turned her insane, then finding a balance between the former and the latter seemed to be a method within Blake's reach. Dip, jump, and twist into one – twirl, waltz, and slide into the other. Whatever was necessary. Synchronicity. Efficiency.
Exactly the things being incapacitated by her fatigue.
It would be important to note here, though, that the Grimm she was currently battling were not the original soulless monsters she was used to encountering, but rather tangible holograms Beacon materialized to test individuals or groups of students during exams. It was a fairly new system, built and set up at the beginning of RWBY's second year. Most classrooms were equipped to substantialize at least one holo-Grimm creature, with the exception of Professor Goodwitch's homeroom, which was designed much like a large auditorium to allow sparring matches between students. Several dozens of foes were therefore not uncommon.
Blake was at the end of her rope, though. It was one thing to fight Grimm for hours with a team, but it was an entirely different story doing it by herself. Her tactics rendered her a tenacious opponent, especially when she could leave a clone behind as a distraction when she needed a brief moment of respite. She was also one of the rare students who had endured until the last wave, but exhaustion had caused a collection of mistakes which had been taxing on her aura. She was operating on pure stubbornness more than anything else now.
Professor Goodwitch must have realized this, because when Blake landed and rolled back onto her feet after swiping through one of the Beowolves and firing Gambol Shroud at the second – noticing too late that the Creeps were charging at her from two different directions – and while she braced herself to parry the best she could, all the Grimm remaining suddenly vanished.
The immediate silence and lack of movement were destabilizing.
Blake blinked a few times, panting harshly, and taking a moment to realize the battle was actually over. Heart pounding, she slowly straightened from her crouched position and shut her eyes to find her calm and quiet the thudding in her ears. Almost two hours. Technically, it was an achievement – the simulation was automatically put to an end after two hours. But she hadn't defeated the final wave, and had the teacher not intervened, she would most likely have been wounded.
That hadn't happened to her in a long while.
"Congratulations, Miss Belladonna," Professor Goodwitch called out, and the sound of her brisk steps echoed a bit closer on the marble floor. "That was one of the more impressive scores I've evaluated this week."
Blake opened her eyes and reached back to put Gambol Shroud where it belonged against her shoulder blades. She turned to face the ascetic woman, breathing heavily through her nose but allowing the professor to know she had her attention.
Goodwitch was looking through the notes and information she had documented into her scroll. "There is a visible improvement in your technique, and you appear to be fighting with more confidence than you did at the beginning of the year. Making it to the last wave of Grimm before the two-hour mark is a testament to your effectiveness in combat – you are resolute and waste neither time nor energy, weaving implacable aggressiveness and shrewd restraint into a somewhat still awkward design, but you're getting there." She locked her piercing gaze with Blake's. "You can be proud of your progress and performance today, Miss Belladonna. You will receive a full report of your grades by the beginning of your summer vacation."
Blake nodded. "Thank you, Professor."
"I suggest you get some rest. Your final week of this academic cycle will be your harshest, as you must surely know."
Indeed. Team RWBY, Team JNPR, and all the other second-year teams would be sent out on various reconnaissance missions, adapted to their estimated competencies. They would be left on their own, though, and needed to prepare for an entire week of huntsmen work. Just as two hours of incessantly fighting holo-Grimm was to test individual students, this one week out in the field was to assess them as a team. They had been looking forward to it ever since Team CFVY had returned successful the previous year, and if RWBY organized themselves appropriately and made plans according to their given skills, the task would – should – be well within their range of capabilities, too.
"Of course." Blake nodded her head again, digressing from the conversation, and then slowly made her way out of Professor Goodwitch's homeroom. Her muscles were sore and her heart was still beating fast. Her clothes clung to her damp skin uncomfortably, and something about coming so close to being injured awoke unpleasant memories in her mind.
She had asked Adam to train her. Never again did she want to feel as helpless, as violated as she had been back then, some nine or so years ago. In so asking, a part of her had embraced the darkness – and skirted making love to it. Her entire past felt like one huge and irredeemable mistake. It was laughable that she would be here at Beacon, attempting to prove she was worth more than her regrettable history. No matter how hard she tried, it seemed to be all that defined her.
If she had known back then what she knew now...
I would have chosen to run anyway. Just not from them. From me.
Blake pushed the door open and stepped out into the hallway, caught in her somber ruminations. She turned to her left and kept walking, gaze lowered to the floor, and it was then that someone suddenly appeared beside her and slipped their arm around her waist, falling into step with her.
"Soooo? How'd it go?"
She knew it was Yang even without looking – the strength in her arms, the warmth radiating from her body, and the mixed scent of vanilla and gunpowder spoke for themselves. But Blake looked nevertheless, being rather surprised about, first, being pulled from her reverie (she hadn't expected anyone to be waiting for her), and second, that Yang was making it obvious to the public they were a couple. She wasn't holding Blake all that close – her touch on the silent girl's hip was light and casual – but it was nonetheless just intimate enough to be considered more than friendly.
"It went...well, I suppose." The young woman found herself glancing at each of the students' faces she walked by, searching for signs of disapproval, and the further they went, the more tightly strung Blake felt. Who was she to be seen at Yang's side like this? She was nothing but shadows and a mockery of a good person, a stain against the brilliance, a monster next to an angel.
She hadn't told Yang the whole truth, back at the carnival. The cat jokes were only part of a much greater problem.
"You 'suppose?'" Yang wondered with an amused arch of her eyebrows. "Don't get all shy on me. You're an absolutely amazing fighter, and you finished kinda early, so that means you must've totally kicked butt! C'mon, share the juicy details!"
Blake tried to ignore the utter confidence Yang had in her abilities, as finishing early could have just as well meant she had taken a beating and had been pulled from the battle before her aura was completely spent – which was what had technically happened, anyway. But in the end, Yang's trust became the proverbial pebble landing on a monument of precariously balancing boulders, tiny yet devastating by its weight. She couldn't bear it.
She was happy to have taken this step forward with Yang, of course…but it hadn't even been a week yet since they had gone public. Yes, they had set down a few rules, and there were some adjustments to make, but Yang couldn't have been entirely comfortable with all of it already. In fact, part of Blake had forgotten why Yang was even bothering to begin with.
The blonde didn't have to go out of her way like this.
"Actually, Yang... I'm sorry, but I'm gross from the evaluation, and I need a shower. Could you not have your arm around me right now, please?" She started to disengage herself from the lilac-eyed girl at the same time as making her request. She wasn't being dishonest, really. Blake legitimately did feel disgusting...but the fact that it extended beyond a layer of sweat was a detail her friend needn't have concern herself over.
Yang appeared mildly confused, but then she went along with it, retracting her arm as she said a little sheepishly, "Uh, yeah, sure. My bad. I guess I didn't notice because it doesn't bother me. Sorry about that. Heh." She chuckled, but it sounded a bit off, as if she were forcing herself. Yang couldn't lie to save her life, much unlike the ex-member of the White Fang. If Blake knew Yang at all, she was more than likely trying to ease the tension.
Blake spiraled further into the familiar whirlpool of self-hate she had created for herself. She had made Yang blame herself again. It wasn't fair. "No, Yang, you don't have to apologize. It's not you. It's..."
Me. It's always me. I'm everything wrong with you.
When Blake didn't finish her sentence, Yang seized the opportunity to lighten the mood. "You know, I'm pretty sure Weiss didn't mean 'No excessive touching' when she said, and I quote, 'No excessive touching,'" she teased playfully. "But hey, no harm done, right? It's better to let me know than to do something you don't like...so thanks for telling me!"
Everything.
Yang wasn't stupid. She knew what Blake had been about to say. But she hadn't pressed the matter. Instead, she had offered honest gratitude. And while it embraced the Faunus' front, it simultaneously – albeit unwittingly – twisted the self-inflicted blade in her back, reinforcing her conviction that she was undeserving of Yang's affection, that she was the chilling breeze threatening to snuff out the flame. Blake had witnessed and taken part in far too many crimes to not perceive their intimate bite, and this was one mortal sin she couldn't make herself guilty of. Yet heartache made her unable to let go.
The beauty within the beast was a mere childhood fantasy, after all. The idea of it was flawed at its core. A monster was a monster – there was no changing it, and there certainly wasn't anything beautiful about it. And so...Blake would never truly be able to mix the two. She would forever be...an "awkward design," trying to be the former when it was obvious she would always and solely be the latter – the beastly half. An imposter.
The rest of the way back to the girls' dorm wasn't an effortless walk for Blake. She tried to distract her thoughts, and Yang helped by prompting her to recount the details of her evaluation and generally being supportive and encouraging, but when Blake was finally able to seclude herself in the bathroom, leaving Yang to start studying with Weiss and Ruby, it was somewhat of a relief. The weight of her inadequacy next to the sun personified had become heavy indeed. And she felt awful for it.
Her shower was quick, just long enough to scrub herself clean from the sweat. She didn't particularly like being under any kind of water, especially because it was too easy to get in her ears – and that wasn't a pleasant experience. Unfortunately, there still lacked nifty inventions for the inconveniences of being a Faunus in a society that had prioritized the everyday wellbeing of the humans for so long, and unless she had a bath (an egregious prospect), Blake had to be extra careful when washing her hair.
When she had the time, like now, after her shower, Blake would also take advantage of these private moments to massage the feline appendages at the top of her head. She wore her bow regularly, and after several hours of being constrained, the sensitive members became sore and uncomfortably warm. She didn't want her friends seeing what other consequences she dealt with as a Faunus. She knew they would insist for her to leave the bow off, and she was all too aware their suggestions would be well-intentioned and aimed at putting her at ease with who she was, but...
She couldn't detach herself from it completely. Not yet – even if the White Fang had been disbanded for almost a year now. Perhaps the apprehension was irrational, perhaps not. But she preferred keeping her heritage discreet during classes and in public, where too many judging and scheming eyes still lurked.
There was a time when she would have been proud of the furry ears protruding from her hair. Survival, however, had taught her the harsh reality of such naivety.
Her fingers started at the back, gentle but accurate and experienced by force of habit. They slowly moved to the caudal borders – the outer sides – and Blake paused, just as she had done countless of occasions in the past. Her left cat ear had a scar at the base, a thin, unfeeling line where the nerves had been severed, just below the cutaneous marginal pouch, which testified to a once cruel injury. She passed her index over it, a light touch which had long ago become mechanical after verifying the wound to the point of obsession when it was still fresh, ensuring that it healed well and didn't bleed again.
And heal it did – achingly, gradually, but it did. Except it didn't. No, the cut it had carved into Blake's heart persisted. A vital part of her had been damaged, had fed venom into her veins, and had altered the very foundations of her reasoning and beliefs. Suddenly, the White Fang's monologues weren't just ingrained into her – they made sense. Motivated by seemingly vindicated shame and hurt, Blake had then walked the tortured path of cold determination to never again fall prey to such weakness, blocking out the world and trusting no one – no one but Adam. And she trained. And she fought. And she died inside.
Mistakes. Nothing but mistakes, at the expense of her self-worth, and almost at the cost of her life.
I betrayed myself.
There was no pride to be drawn from her cat ears.
Blake finished her ministrations after five minutes, and as she put her clothes on, she began to mentally prepare herself for the studying she had to do, forcing her thoughts from dark reflections and onto more practical topics. Feeling physically clean and less sore made the task arduous instead of impossible, much to her relief. The next exam for her Aura Theory class was on semblances, a detailed analysis of their effects, methods of manipulation, and the basis of their phenomena. It was a rather interesting subject, actually, and Blake was looking forward to testing her knowledge and memory. She knew she still had holes to fill and flaws to correct.
Another five minutes later, and she opened the door to be met with the not-too-surprising sight of Ruby precariously hanging off her top bunk, reading her textbook with her head facing the floor while Weiss sat at the desk, scribbling notes and generally appearing more productive than her partner. And Yang was...
Not studying, if the quiet sounds coming from her scroll and the way her fingers moved on the surface were any indication. Also, she was laying on the floor in a haphazard manner, just about as strange as Ruby's position, what with the way her calves rested on Blake's bed and her thighs pressed against the side of it. This caused Blake to slowly shake her head, half in amusement, half in exasperated disbelief. That girl.
"What a funny approach you have to schoolwork, Yang," she commented with no particular intonation. Upon realizing she sounded a tad critical by her choice of words, she added, "Is something wrong?"
There were two reasons why Yang might have been procrastinating. She was either bored...or there was a problem on her mind which prevented her from focusing. Both were equally possible. If it was the latter, Blake would do her utmost to alleviate the burden.
Mischievous lilac eyes locked with guarded yellow-amber, and a deliberate grin spread across inviting lips, causing the Faunus to wonder if sunrises were beautiful at all compared to such life and warmth. "Blake! Did you know occupying your mind with –"
"Yang."
The golden girl laughed, apparently finding it comical that Blake wouldn't humor her, and the darkly dressed young woman was forced to assume she was just unexcited with studying. "Okay, kitten. You're right." Yang snickered again, closing her scroll, and then swung her legs off her girlfriend's bed before jumping to her feet.
"I swear it's like magic," Weiss muttered from her seat. She turned in her chair to scrutinize the duo with a frown. "Even Ruby can't get her to smarten up like that."
The younger half-sibling giggled, raising her book so her face was visible to the team. "Blake just says her name, and voila!"
Yang shrugged, a casual movement far too impish to be considered careless. "What can I say? Her bow is off – I can't resist." Flippant as ever, she beamed and winked at her partner. "So? Where do we start?"
Blake had to take a brief moment to consider the possibility of the statement her teammate had just spouted, and then decided to discard it as mere playful teasing –just like the rest of the conversation, in fact. She had no control over Yang whatsoever. If the blonde listened to the raven-haired girl's advice about taking her grades seriously more than she did Ruby's – her own flesh and blood and her leader – then it was her own choice. Her reasons seemed regrettable, however. Ruby's suggestion to study should have carried more weight than Blake's. Actually, Ruby's suggestions concerning just about everything involving their performance as a team should have been important to Yang. She was her younger sister, her best friend. They had gone through so much together, and Blake had no right to take her place. Nevertheless, the Faunus was surprised and secretly pleased by her companion's whimsical response. She would never encourage it, though, out of respect for Ruby's status.
"Come with me," Blake offered, ignoring absolutely everything that had just been said. She grabbed the books she needed before heading for the dorm's exit. "Maybe a change in decor will help you concentrate."
"Ooooh, I like where this is going," Yang tossed flirtatiously, and as Ruby stifled a laugh, Weiss snorted in disbelief before returning to her notes, apparently fed up with the discussion. The brawler seemed not to notice, starting to collect her own textbooks from her bed, where the stuffed panther Blake had gifted her now lived – she slept with it – but then she paused. "So, where are we going, exactly?"
Blake rolled her eyes. Of course Yang would put on a show of confidence, only to immediately render it meaningless by such a question. "The library. We can find a quiet spot to research and memorize the material we need for the exam." They were both taking Aura Theory, after all. She gave Ruby a warning glance, as the redhead seemed hell-bent on teasing them. "And by that, I mean nothing else but schoolwork."
Ruby smiled innocently, and her older sister scoffed as she made her way towards Blake. "Ouch, what a mood-killer. And here I was, thinking you wanted me all to yourself!"
Of course I do. What I don't want is this facade you're putting on for me.
Instead, Blake finally reacted to the gibe, albeit half-heartedly. "Oh, woe is me. The devilishly handsome temptress strikes again." She opened the door. "Now stop with the jokes and come."
Yang cackled, and the pair was out of the room just as Ruby was calling out something about avoiding the intimate corners of the library. Blake's sensitive hearing picked up on giggling and then the sound of someone hitting the floor bodily, which was then followed by painful groans and a series of frustrated exclamations from Weiss.
Why, yes. Precariously indeed.
The sun was beginning to set, bathing the library in an orange glow and making the aimlessly drifting motes of dust in the air visible. It was rather silent in the large, spacious chamber, except for the occasional electronic beeps of the computer consoles being used by other students. There were a few quiet conversations taking place, but for the most part, the atmosphere allowed for peace and focus.
Near the back of the hall, sitting at one of the many tables beside the large windows, were a girl in yellow and another in black. They were facing each other, small piles of books having accumulated on the surface before them as they searched for the information and answers they needed to pass their upcoming test.
"How does one measure the approximate auric field of its source caster, and why is this relevant?" Blake wondered, holding one textbook in front of her as she gazed at Yang in patient expectation of an answer. They had been studying and bouncing questions off each other for the past couple of hours, keeping track of the notes they deemed important by saving them into their scrolls. They would be able to revise and quickly quiz each other later that way.
Yang had started to yawn, but then she gave Blake a confused look, as if she had been thunderstruck. "Uh, wha? You can measure a person's auric field?"
Blake tilted her head a little. "Yang, we just went over this five minutes ago..."
If Yang became anymore sheepish, she might well turn into a sheep. "Uh, yeah, but...well, I guess I just need a brief reminder?"
Blake raised her eyebrows, all too aware that her active girlfriend was probably reaching unexplored levels of boredom. Nevertheless, she gave her a chance and obliged, knowing Yang was intelligent and could apply herself with care, given proper motivation. "Aura is a naturally occurring force. The unmitigated effects and range of its power are still unknown, but once awakened, it can be sensed by others who also possess an active aura, thereby making it possible to receive a relative measurement of the amount an individual has. Some are particularly attuned to it – such as Ren, for example. But much like electromagnets and energy, an auric field is calculable with the help of an equation. What is that equation, and why is it important to know the math of it?"
"...Yes."
Blake blinked, waiting for an elaboration, but when she realized Yang wasn't going to provide one, she creased her eyebrows. "That's not an answer. You aren't your uncle, and you aren't drunk...although I suppose I'm repeating myself. But I digress. We were just reading about the math process – you have it in your mind, and I know you can remember it."
Yang chuckled before roughly running her fingers through her lustrous blonde locks and sighing heavily. It was fascinating, really, how she spoke with her whole body, and the utter loss and fatigue she expressed now was a far cry from the dullness Blake had initially presumed. "I don't know, Blake. I can't focus. I'm sorry."
It was becoming evident indeed that Yang was more than just unexcited about her schoolwork. Why she had chosen to hide her disquietude, and even more so how Blake had neglected to see beyond the playful jesting, were both mysteries. Blake could remedy at least one of the two, though, and wouldn't ignore the signs a second time after noticing them. Third time, actually. She was already kicking herself for being too preoccupied with her own self-degrading castigations to give Yang's feelings the concern they deserved. Oh, the irony.
Blake carefully put the book down in front of her. "Don't apologize. What's wrong?" She regarded her sunray intently, giving her undivided attention.
Despondency suited Yang just about as well as an infant's boots fit an adult. Neither did, and both were rather painful to watch. She looked around, as if her surroundings would somehow lend inspiration or whatever help she was searching for, before settling her gaze on the dark-haired girl across the table and sighing again. "Can I ask you something?" she wondered, finally.
"I'm all ears. Two pairs of them, even." To emphasize, Blake twitched the feline members at the top of her head.
Yang beheld this with a curious mix of marvel and contemplation, and then lifted her hand a little. "Can I touch them?"
Although it was so spontaneously, so innocently, so genuinely Yang, that wasn't the reaction Blake had intended to elicit, and she would not, under any circumstance, reveal the sudden dread that clutched her. Instead, she reached for her girlfriend's upraised hand, and guided it down to the middle of the table, where she held it in both of her own gently – perhaps to pre-emptively soothe the coming disappointment, but also to ensure that Yang wouldn't try again. "No, you can't. And I'm assuming that wasn't what was bothering you, either." She had forced her tone to be soft, to swerve the topic away from her refusal and back towards Yang's queries.
"Right," came the short reply, Yang's attention again momentarily distracted by the small circles being traced on the back of her hand by Blake's thumb. But then amethyst met gold, and the Faunus had rarely seen Yang look this serious. "Blake, what are you expecting from this relationship?"
Blake froze, eyes locked with her partner's. There were a few responses she could have provided, such as enthusing about love or confiding wishes of forever and happiness – all those mushy, adorable, heartwarming, and, ultimately, hollow sentiments – and etcetera, but none of them were the kind being asked for. Nor were they satisfyingly honest. Blake had to break eye contact. Because of regret or shame or...no, it didn't matter why. "Nothing," she murmured, gazing down at their intertwined fingers. "Absolutely nothing."
A certain stillness hung in the air, silence engulfing the two as the warm, setting rays of the sun continued to bathe them in the colors of fire. Somewhere at the other end of the room – and it might as well have been at the other end of the world, for all the care given – the heavy entrance doors of the library closed shut, signaling the departure of a few more students.
"...I don't understand," Yang finally found her voice, and she sounded both concerned and stunned. "Why? I-I mean... Why?"
Something about the stress in her tone made Blake quickly look back up at her, and her eyes widened slightly. Yang wasn't just bewildered...she was hurt, and it tore through Blake almost physically. This was her fault. Again. Yet the words still wouldn't come to her lips, the ones her love wanted to hear and had ever so kindly been asking for, even since day one.
Faced with Blake's muteness, Yang gained an impression of composure – if a firm, almost unyielding expression could be considered as such, that is. She suddenly stood from her seat, keeping their hands interlocked, and said, "Your turn to follow me. We need to talk."
Yang had used that inflection on Blake once before. Back then, however, through her boggled, sleep-deprived, and Torchwick-obsessed mind, Blake had attempted to resist it and had, of course, failed miserably. In hindsight, it had been for the best. Today, with her thoughts clear and paying a special attention to it, the raven-haired girl found herself seized with how caustic Yang's tone of voice was – in the 'capable of burning' definition of the term. It usually wasn't safe to play with flames, and if Blake was truthful, she didn't particularly want to find out what would happen if she did.
She rose from her chair and tailed Yang without protesting.
They left their books behind, but that proved not to be a problem as it seemed the riled young woman hadn't planned on bringing Blake very far. Yang guided her past a few rows of bookshelves, to the back of the chamber, through the glass doors located nearby, and onto the wide balcony outside.
The early summer air caressed their skins and carried the fragrance of grass and moonflowers to their noses, and now the comfortable rays of the sun seemed to welcome them with an embrace. The beeping of computer consoles was replaced by the pleasant chirps and songs of various birds, and the only sound hinting at not having stepped into a peaceful, vivid dream was the far off chatter of students enjoying the weather someplace else within Beacon's campus.
The layout of the balcony allowed for a few more tables, all of them empty, but Yang pulled Blake to the white cement parapet, where she let go of her hand to place both of her own on the edge and inhaled deeply. They were a few dozen feet above ground level, and although part of the view was obstructed by one of the academy's shorter spires, it was beautiful nevertheless.
Blake tentatively leaned against the safeguard next to her partner, remaining quiet, waiting for her to speak her mind. She was fairly certain there was a reason for having come out here, after all.
When she turned to face Blake, Yang appeared to have calmed somewhat. She didn't express herself immediately, however, as if she were considering the best way to do so, and Blake began to worry. Yang's lilac gaze was intense, ardent, and if she had to think about her words before saying them…
Some of the hurt she must have felt was apparent in her voice when she started talking. "When I said I would try to reciprocate your feelings, I meant it. Every word. And ever since we agreed to become a couple, I have been putting every effort I could spare into loving you as more than a friend. If I could just make you smile, if I could just satisfy your want for my affection...if I could just make you happy." Yang paused, and her expression contorted, as if it couldn't decide between pain and frustration.
A knot formed in Blake's throat. They had already addressed this.
"Except there's a problem. I can't do it on my own. Literally zero relationships last if there's only one person trying. And Blake? I have been in that kind of situation before, and it's exhausting. I have this tendency to give all of myself – no hesitation, all or nothing – and you know what? Most of the time, I'm happy that way, because it's rewarding. I mean, you know that motto – treat people the way you want to be treated, and they tend to do exactly that. There's the ones that just don't, obviously, like out of spite or something – can't stand the cute happy-go-luckies, and the joke's on them. Others don't care enough, or once they've bled you dry, they leave you there like you never mattered in the first place."
Yang was talking out of experience. And for the most part, and in contrast to Blake, she seemed emotionally unaffected by her past – yet it was evident she had learned from her mistakes and knew what she didn't appreciate. The turn their conversation was taking was beginning to cause much apprehension in Blake.
"But then there's you." Yang regarded the Faunus, uncertain. "I know you do care, and you're definitely not a lost cause. But every time I try to get closer, you step back – as if, for some reason, even if you say you love me, you don't want this relationship and are just going through the motions because I suggest we should. I mean, you weren't even the one to ask me out! And no matter what I efforts I make, no matter how much of myself I give, you refuse to share yourself in equal measure. And, I dunno, maybe I've entirely overlooked the definitions of introverted and reserved, maybe I don't know you as well as I thought I did and I'm completely wrong about all of this, but at some point...it just doesn't make sense." She sighed, and her shoulders slumped along with her exhale. "All I want is to understand, Blake. Work with me. Try me."
Blake swallowed with difficulty. Every single word had struck home and only enforced her helplessness. Her cat ears twitched as the gentle breeze touched them, and she had to blink back tears. "I don't think you can understand, Yang," she murmured. "I'm sorry."
But Yang was quick to reply. "Is this about you being a Faunus?" she asked softly, not offended in the slightest. "Because I'm pretty sure I can meet you halfway – but you're gonna have to actually explain it to me first." Her gaze betrayed her hurt. "Please, Blake. Give me – give us a chance. I want to know more about you, to be able to love you like I know you love me." Yang had one hand on her hip, the other supporting her weight on the parapet. Her demeanor was inviting – if not a little sorrowful – and any signs of frustration were gone now that she had spoken her feelings.
Blake's heart began to pound in her chest as she was gripped with the realization that no one had ever insisted on knowing her this deeply before. No one had searched to understand her point of view as a Faunus, despite the gap created by being from a different species. It was so sweet, so naive, so untainted by prejudice and opinion, as though Yang truly saw her as her equal and everything could be overcome with a simple chat. Was this girl even real? Or was she a figment of Blake's imagination?
She looked away, forced to remain silent as she attempted to compose herself. It was impossible for a human to comprehend, of course. They did not possess an instinctual sixth sense; they did not have night vision nor were their other five senses as developed as the Faunus'. And they certainly didn't have bizarre urges randomly prompting them to act like animals. She could explain her perspective, and Yang might have a certain grasp of it and be capable of envisioning what it must be like, but she would never fully empathize.
However, Yang was also sincere and well-intentioned. She had opened her heart to Blake and was offering her partner a final ultimatum to try and do the same. That's all Yang wanted. Just a chance. And she was still waiting, patient and kind and amazing and worth more than anything the ex-member of the White Fang ever deserved.
Blake found herself digging her fingers into the cement of the parapet. She stared at them, and finally opened her mouth. "I can't tell you everything in one conversation. It's too much. But I'll share a bit. You've been more than generous with me, and I've been awful."
She managed to relax her fingers and exhaled slowly. Yang didn't have to empathize. Demanding that from her would have proven Blake to be both a hypocrite and unreasonably harsh. True understanding wasn't necessary. Mutual respect and appreciation was. Yang appeared to stand behind both beliefs, and there was the common ground between the two companions. It was a leap of faith, then. Blake had never been good with those. But a glance towards Yang allowed her to muster up the remaining courage she needed to continue.
"I didn't expect anything from this relationship because I never thought – never dreamed – you would agree and even, as you said, be the one to initiate it. I admitted my love because I just couldn't keep it to myself anymore. You were always there, making feel like I was somehow important, and I can't count how many times I've wanted to tell you. But I don't believe you could ever feel the same way I do." Blake smiled sadly, longingly. "You're…a lot of things I wish I was, and if I compare myself to you, I constantly come to the same conclusion: who in their right mind believes they deserve the sun? I have nothing good to give you, Yang, and you…you don't need me to shine this brilliantly." She would have said more, but she had to stop talking. Her throat was too tight and she wouldn't make an even greater fool out of herself.
"Blake, you're spiraling." Yang gently grabbed the bookworm's shoulders, inciting Blake to face her friend. Her hands found Blake's face, cupping her jaw, and a single tear escaped one of Blake's eyes. "Hey, come back to me, kitten." Yang's voice was soft, reassuring. "Yeah, two perks of my semblance are fire and heat, and I guess that makes me kind of like a really tiny sun – like, an itty bitty baby one – but I think you've been giving me too much credit and too little for yourself." She wiped away the tear with her thumb and smiled encouragingly. "We're just two normal people, Blake, and if you really wanna use metaphors, then darkness isn't the right word to describe you. You're more like the night sky. You're speckled with wonderful little lights than everyone seems to see except you, and you've helped me find my way more than once with your biggest, brightest star of all – you're a real friend, and there's no one's moral compass that I trust more than yours."
There were tears streaming freely down Blake's cheeks now, a silent testament to how deeply she was touched by her girlfriend's words. Yang pulled her into her arms, hugging her tightly and saying nothing, allowing Blake to bury her face in the crook of her love's neck and draw strength from her embrace. Yang's warmth enveloped the smaller of the two, safe and mesmerizing and consoling, and somewhere at the back of her mind, Blake had a glimpse of beauty – as if, somehow, Yang could make Blake see the good in herself with the simple force of her heartening strength.
"I somehow convinced myself you were just forcing everything," she murmured, her voice hoarse. She laughed without humor, and found her hands gliding around Yang's back, fingers clutching her clothes and holding her closer. "I thought you didn't actually care that much. You, the embodiment of authentic. So, I assumed you would be more at ease if I pushed you away. I didn't want you doing anything you didn't want to."
Blake felt Yang turn her head a little, and became acutely aware of how near the blonde's lips were to one of her cat ears. She was somewhat distracted and assuaged, though, when Yang slowly glided her fingers through Blake's raven locks, tips grazing her spine on their descent – but she never once touched the feline appendages.
Probably taking into consideration where her mouth was, the golden girl seemed to know she had to speak quietly. "Blake…it's not a secret I'm a physical person. A lot of the time, I just go with what seems natural. I told you I was comfortable with the idea of you being my girlfriend. And I'm beginning to enjoy the relationship. It's very different, it's very new, but it's not unpleasant, and I do like the personal challenge of it. And being able to care for someone I'm close to is always a plus."
If Yang had been lying, if she had been forcing the words at all, Blake would have detected it. But she was being absolutely honest, and the wonders it operated for the Faunus' heartache were phenomenal.
"Also, your hair is totally the silkiest thing I've ever touched, and I'm never gonna get tired of doing this."
A small smile tugged at the corners of Blake's mouth. Yang always knew just the right words to say to lighten the mood – yet without erasing the sincerity and seriousness of their previous interactions – just a quick, spontaneous comment to level the rest. "Thank you, Yang," she murmured, doing her best to convey the tenderness she had been overwhelmed with in those three simple words. It would never be enough, though.
"Girlfriend or not, I would do anything for you, Blake." Yang's hand continued its incredibly relaxing caresses through Blake's hair, slow and gentle. "And I'm beginning to realize that maybe you need time, too. Have you ever allowed anyone this close to your heart before?"
Blake closed her eyes, resting her cheek against her sunshine's shoulder. The question should have spurred unbidden memories about Adam, probably, but with Yang's warmth against her and with her unique scent being all the bookworm could smell, the answer seemed easy enough to give. "No, not like this. I've never loved anyone…like this."
Yang's voice was sincere and affected. "Then I'm honored, and I will be patient with you. But…Blake?" She carefully pushed her partner away. Blake's hands glided from Yang's back to rest on her companion's waist as gold met lilac, and for a moment, Blake forgot how to breathe. If there was anywhere the sun personified looked most gorgeous, it was in the light of the setting sun, itself. The two friends were standing so close to each other, one of Yang's hands cupping Blake's jaw and the other still entangled in her hair.
"Yes?" Blake whispered, mesmerized and not daring to move.
"Let's both contribute, okay? I know it's difficult for you to believe this won't be another thing that'll hurt you…but I'm asking for your trust. Let's do this together, alright?" Yang's head seemed to duck a little, as if she were somehow shy, and the temptation to glance at her lips was nearly impossible to resist.
But Blake forced herself to focus. This was Yang's final condition. Having allegedly already been in a relationship where she had been the only one trying, she refused to exhaust herself again in another. And Blake would not do that to Yang. Her girlfriend would be patient with Blake, but the raven-haired girl had to work at sharing herself with Yang and allow herself to hope the relationship could last. Efforts on both ends – a couple was composed of two people, not one. And the fact that Yang seemed so confident she could learn to love Blake romantically should have been all the reason the Faunus needed to believe in her companion – an opportunity to show Yang, despite whatever the future held, just how much she loved her.
Blake couldn't take that for granted. There were very few people selfless and adventurous enough to willingly and steadfastly engage in a relationship which, for all intents and purposes, would make them uncomfortable on a regular basis – just for the sake of the other person.
Yang deserved much more than a chance.
Blake shook herself from her trance and mustered up her courage to lay a soft kiss on Yang's cheek. "I'll give you my best," she murmured, making it a personal promise she firmly intended on keeping.
"I know you will," Yang grinned as she stepped away, a radiant, touching thing to see, one Blake's heart fluttered over and felt gratified for having been the cause of. Her partner grabbed her hand and winked. "Okay, so I'm all good to focus on studying now. Gotta get that done so we can rest enough for the mission, right? How about you?"
Blake couldn't help the affectionate simper that crossed her lips. Resolutions agreed upon, tension dissipated, goals to work towards, and Yang back to her chipper self – a real combination of things to make Blake feel quite a bit better. Quite a lot better, actually. But there was one last unresolved issue. Just a minor one. "Sure, but just so you know, the moon isn't a star."
Yang sighed dramatically. "Blake, just go with it! You have a full, nice, and bright moo –"
"Right, before that turns into a pun, lead the way."
"And I can see the amount of work you invest in it."
Honestly, Blake's eyeroll skills would reach mastery levels with this relationship. "Please, stop."
"How's mine?" Yang waggled her eyebrows, turning her lower body a bit.
Golden eyes quickly averted elsewhere – anywhere but there – and cheeks burned. Wait, no. Ugh. "Get it moving before I kick you."
Laughing now – or, at least, Yang was laughing and Blake was quietly dying inside from embarrassment while somehow still bathing in joy – they intertwined their fingers and made their way back inside the library to continue their research.
I feel like this chapter reads very bumpy. It used to be one of my favorites but now I'm not sure. I mean, I don't not like it. But it just doesn't seem to read all that smoothly - like it's trying too hard or something and distracts the reader with its weird turn of phrases. I think I was still trying to find my style at the time of writing it, some three years ago. But it has some good character points, and the flashbacks are always interesting, so... By all means, though, let me know what you thought of it!
See you guys in chapter six!