Ruby's out really, really late.

Normally, I wouldn't worry. It's pretty common for me to get home first. I'm not sure exactly what hours she works, but in the morning when I leave for Tukson's, the door to the bedroom is closed, and when I return I usually come back to an empty house. By the time I finish cooking dinner, though (I do most of that – Ruby's a horrible cook), she's always been back.

But not this time. Dinner came and went hours ago, but no sign of her. I texted her a few times, then tried calling when that failed, but no response.

My fingers absently tap in another call to her scroll. I don't expect it to work. It doesn't.

Did – did she run away? Just got tired of living with an inescapable reminder of what she lost? If she did, she won't last long. If the administration doesn't find her, the grimm will, and either way she'll die a horrible death.

No, that doesn't sound right. All our time at Beacon tells me she probably wouldn't do that. But how could I know? When it comes down to it, do I really know her at all? Maybe this was coming for weeks, and I just never recognized the signs, all because I never took the initiative to talk to her. Because when it comes down to it, we're still practically strangers.

Why didn't I? Awkwardness? How petty.

It's not awkwardness.

It's guilt, and you know it.

But how could I take initiative of any kind when she goes to such lengths to avoid me? I don't even know why she's gone. Work, I assume. But what does a courier even do? Just… run around or something?

How can I not even know that?

Because she never told me. Just like she never told me why she's gone. Just like she hasn't told me anything since we've been expelled.

I glance at the glowing digital clock set against the opposite wall. 2:35 glares back in red, judgemental pulses. There's a window next to it, but I can hardly see it, shrouded as it is in the pitch black night. The only break in the endless darkness is the faint flicker of the light outside our door. I should turn it off. After curfew, we're not even supposed to have lights on. The Council says it's for our own safety, that leaving lights gives room for troublemakers and ruffians to bring the Grimm down on all of us. I just don't want Ruby to have to come back to a dark, desolate home.

If she comes back at all.

Eventually, I flick the switch and the light dies. I don't know when she'll be back. I can't risk getting us in trouble anymore. I'll just stay up and wait for her.

Just… wait. No… problem. Maybe we can finally… talk.

Before I know it, my exhaustion overpowers my anxiety, and I'm out like that one little light.

::-::-::

A muffled squeak brings me crashing back to awareness with a startled gasp and panicked flailing. When did I fall asleep?

"Who's there?" I query, squinting into the darkness.

"Jaune?" Ruby's voice echoes back. It's strained, like she's forcing the words out through clenched teeth. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Just go back to sleep, I'll be in bed in a minute."

She's at the table, outline barely visible, illuminated only by the red glow of the clock. 4:57.

"Where have you been?" I ask, the sleep fading from my body, chased out by her return."It's so late. And I…"

Missed you.

"Was worried. I didn't have any idea where you were."

"Sorry about that," she says with a weak laugh. "Work went, uh, a little late."

"Ruby."

"Ok, very late," she amends. "But it won't happen again, I promise, so just–"

"You know you're a terrible liar, right?" I swing to my feet from my position on the couch, fumbling for the light switch I know is somewhere around. "What are you doing, anyways?"

"Nothing, nothing!" she squeaks. "Just dropped something, that's all. Trying to find it. Go back to sleep! It's really late, and–"

My clumsy fingers finally find the switch. I flick it on, and our room is bathed in harsh white light, blinding compared to the darkness that we had just been in. I blink the spots out of my eyes. The first thing I notice is that Ruby is huddled in a ball at the corner of the table, back turned towards me and one arm clutching another against her chest.

I walk towards her, footfalls heavy in the sudden silence. "Are you alright?"

"Don't look!" she cries out, voice thick with desperation.

"What's going on?" Ignoring her protests, I grab her shoulder and twist her around. She puts up a weak struggle at first, but then gives in. I frown when I realize she refuses to look at me, but a flash of scarlet against her hand draws my attention to where she still clutches one arm to her chest.

Blood.

A lot of blood.

"Sweet Grimm spawn," I breathe.

The sleeve of the black long sleeved shirt she's wearing is torn to minuscule shreds, doing nothing to obscure my sight to the flesh below. It's stained dark red with both dried and fresh blood, but three long, jagged, parallel furrows stand out against the crusty mess, carved into her arm from almost wrist to shoulder. The fact that Ruby's even alive means they must be shallow, or she would have bled out just trying to get back. No doubt her aura had something to do with that.

But as nasty as the injuries are, it's the source that gives me the most concern. I might have been a failure at Beacon, but even I can recognize beowolf wounds when I see them.

"I did say not to look," Ruby whimpers.

"How did you–" I begin, voice trembling like a leaf in jet exhaust, but I cut myself off with a shake of my head. "No, never mind. Tell me later. We need to get you to a doctor, fast." It's so late though… are hospitals even open? Surely there has to be some emergency room or urgent care that could take care of her, right?

"No!" Ruby cries out. "Please, no. You can't."

"What? Why? There's no way we can leave something like that," I wave toward her arm for emphasis, "untreated."

"You just can't," Ruby evades. "Not a hospital. Please."

Her earnest plea catches me off guard. I don't know why she's so adamant, but it's obviously a big deal to her. I shouldn't force her if I don't know why. But I can't just leave her like that. I mean, infection would be horrible, at the very least, and maybe something even worse could happen. I don't know. I don't know anything about medicine.

Wait. I think I saw a medical kit buried somewhere in our closet.

"Alright, alright. No doctor," I acquiesce. "But we can't just leave it like that. Hang on a second."

I dash over to the closet and rummage through it. Various packages and boxes I never remember seeing are tossed aside in my haste, until my hands finally close around a white, plastic box marked with a red cross.

I drag it over to the table, where Ruby has obediently taken a seat.

"Hold out your arm," I command. She obeys, but an involuntary wince springs to her face at the movement.

"Owie."

"This is crazy," I mutter. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

Something is probably better than nothing though, right? Right. Now if only I had paid attention during health class… although if they had covered how to treat Grimm related injuries I probably would have.

I whip out a disinfecting spray and apply it liberally to the three wounds. Ruby whimpers softly, but doesn't pull away.

"Sorry," I reassure her. "I know it stings."

"S'okay."

It doesn't take long to cover her arm with the mist. Great. Uh, what next? Bandage it, I guess?

I pull out a roll of gauze that I desperately hope is meant to be used for bandaging. Hang on, everything in these kits is sterilized, right? I'll have to buy another one later.

Focus, Jaune. That doesn't matter right now.

I wrap the gauze around Ruby's arm as gingerly as I can. It sticks to itself without resistance, and I heave an internal sigh of relief. If it wasn't the exact right thing, it's probably close enough.

Unfortunately, with her injury treated, there is no longer anything delaying the inevitable extremely awkward conversation. Neither of us can make eye contact with the other.

"Right," I begin. "Um, how does it feel?"

"It's fine," she replies softly. "Thanks."

A billion questions race through my mind. Where have you been? Why do you have Grimm wounds, of all things? Why did you try to hide it from me?

Why didn't you trust me enough to ask for help?

What eventually spills out, though, is "Why didn't you want to see a doctor?"

She hesitates for a long, long time. "They would have asked questions."

Yeah, and no wonder!

"I mean, injuries like that don't just happen," I protest. "It's from a beowolf's claws, isn't it." It's not a question.

"... Maybe."

"And why were you anywhere near a beowolf?" There's no Grimm in Vale. The state messes a lot of stuff up, but security isn't one of them.

"I told you already," she mutters petulantly. "It was for work."

"Being a courier."

"Yep. For the SDC, actually."

"And does your job regularly involve the Grimm?" I demand, voice rising. I fight it back down when she tenses up. I can't get angry. It won't help. "Because that sure doesn't sound like just package delivery."

She says nothing, but she finally makes eye contact with me, and the rebellious tilt of her chin tells me that her defensiveness is only intensifying.

"Ruby," I coax, doing my best to be gentle, to fight down my rising frustration. "Please. I need to know."

"It is package delivery," she finally speaks. "Kind of. But the mail service does most of the normal stuff, so the only things left to deliver are really urgent… or a little dangerous."

"So you have to go outside the city?" If she is, a little dangerous is an extreme understatement.

"... Sometimes."

This doesn't make any sense. Why would she even be allowed to do something so risky? She's probably the most powerful individual of our entire generation, or at least one of them. For the administration to be willing to risk her is–

Unless they don't know.

"Your job is legal, right?" I ask, dreading the answer. If she's doing this illegally… We're going to be in such a mess.

"Yes!" she rushes to reassure me. "Well, uh, normally. I mean, not that this one was illegal, it just wasn't strictly speaking perfectly legal either."

"Oh Mother of Grimm," I swear, settling into the couch when it feels like my legs will give way. "Why? Why would you do it?"

"Well, the dangerous missions pay more, cuz no one wants to do them. And, you know, I'm fast, so I figured it'd be easy to run them and then we'd have a lot more money and–"

"We don't need money, Ruby!" I snap. Doesn't she understand how dangerous this is? "Not if it gets you hurt! You almost died!" If that claw had gone even an inch deeper, if her aura was even a little less potent… the human body can't spare that much blood.

She would just be… gone. Disappeared into the night. And I would never even know why.

"I'm fine!" she insists. "My aura will take care of it. Besides, the other ones all went smoothly, this one was just–"

That gets my attention. I spring to my feet so violently that I almost lose my balance, but it does nothing to slow the coming tirade. "Other ones? You mean you've done more than one?!"

"Yeah," she protests, "but they weren't a problem!"

I just don't get her. At all! Why can't she see that what she's doing is absolutely insane? "Well this one obviously was! Why are you putting yourself in danger? You don't get second chances if you screw up! Is money so important to you that–"

Oh. Of course.

"... It's not about money at all, is it?"

Because danger? Danger's a thrill. And all she ever wanted was to be a hero, but she never got the chance. So what better way to compromise then to take a job no sane person would ever want?

In the end, it all comes back to me, doesn't it? Back to my failure.

"It is," she insists weakly. "Well, at least a little."

I wish she would just scream at me. Blame me for everything, whatever. At least we could get it all in the open, anything other than this dancing around, constantly avoiding each other and telling little half-lies, as if those are less hurtful than the truth. Because I already know. I know it's my fault, but acting like that doesn't help at all! I tried my hardest, I'm trying my hardest, but she's not giving me anything to work with, she just keeps running and running and running

I don't say that. Any of it.

But even though I don't, the hurt creeps into my tone, and I can't keep my shaking hands from screaming my agitation. "Just a little? What's the rest of truth, then?"

She recoils as if I had slapped her, eyes dangerously bright. "I'm — I'm not lying!"

"No, but it's not the whole truth, is it? You almost died, Ruby! You're running Oum knows how many missions through Grimm infested territory, and you expect me to believe it's for a little extra lien?"

A single tear rolls down her cheek, but it's solitude doesn't last long. The sight takes the edge off of my fristration, replaced instead by guilt. I have to stay calm. She's a kid, we're both exhausted, and no matter how frustrated I may be, losing myself is only going to make things worse.

"Ruby, please," I coax. "You have to quit this job if it's going to put you in so much danger. We're partners now, and—"

"Partners," she cries, voice shaking. "Why do you always call us that? What is it even supposed to mean?"

"It means that we were paired by the state," I yell, not caring when she shrinks away from me, but although her body screams fear her silver eyes snap from sadness to fury. "Because that's exactly what we are, whether you want it or not, and–"

"Whether I want it or not?" she interrupts, heat blazing through her voice for the first time, and for me, it's the last straw.

"And what are you trying to imply?!" I'm practically screaming now, voice raw with weeks and weeks of pent up confusion, frustration, guilt. Just everything.

It's the wrong move. Completely the wrong move. She shuts down and withdraws, face going blank. "Nothing," she states, voice dead. "Forget I said anything. Just leave me alone. I'm going to bed." She turns and marches away, taking great care not to look at me. "Good night."

I could reach out to stop her, say something, get everything straightened out right now, but I don't. I'm scared of what I would do right now. My control teeters on a knife's edge, and I don't know what would happen if it shatters.

So she breezes past me, and I let her.

And suddenly I'm left in the void with nothing but my rolling emotions and endless turmoil. I can't even think. Ruby, me, the world, it's all just wrong. I don't know what to blame. Everything's just screwed up.

Maybe my ears deceive me, but in the deathly silence I pick up the faintest whispers of strangled sobs.

I don't investigate.

I'm lucky I don't have work tomorrow. There's no way I could focus.

By the time I finally fall asleep, the sun is peeking over the horizon like a blinding orb of judgement, and the light is the last thing I want.

::-::-::

You'd think that after such a nasty disagreement, we'd want some time away from each other. Well, you'd be right. We would. Do. Whatever. But life doesn't work that way. In fact, it pretty much goes out of its way to spite me.

So when the typical ruthless pounding on my door signals the arrival of my favorite caretaker, I'm not even surprised.

I open the door in silence, too tired to say a word. My eyes are thick with exhaustion and unshed emotion, the lids dragging like lead weights.

"Morning, gorgeous," the caretaker drawls. "Got a present for you."

"Oh, goody. My favorite."

"Where's the wife?" he sneers. "I wanted to say hello, you know. A little cutie like her ought to–"

A white hot surge of sudden anger drives my hands into action before I can even think. They close around the collar of his shirt, and I ram him up against the outside wall, hard, fists white with the strength of my grip.

"Give. Me. The. Package. And. Get. Out." I snarl, face only inches away from him. The stink of his breath fills my nostrils, but that only encourages me to push harder.

If it hurts him, he gives no sign. "So you have a spine after all," he comments, sneer transitioned into a savage grin. "Put me down, kid. Can't give nothin' to you like this."

I drop him reluctantly. Much to my disappointment, he regains his footing with easy grace before reaching into his pocket and holding out yet another crisp white envelope. This one bears the council's seal: a giant fist over a raging sea. I snatch it from his hands, doing my best to draw the sharp edge across his flesh. It just bounces off ridges of hardened calluses.

"Don't you dare touch me again, kid," the caretaker warns. "Once was funny. You're not gonna like what happens if you do it twice."

I slam the door in his face as my reply, the impact rattling the frame. Heavy footfalls combined with raucous laughter signal his departure, and I collapse against the door as if his presence was the only thing giving strength to my legs. Am I crazy? I just assaulted a caretaker. For no reason other than…

Yeah, I'm crazy.

I glance at the envelope in my hand before slitting it open and pulling out the paper inside. It only takes two seconds of reading to elicit an exhausted groan. You have got to be kidding me.

My doom is pronounced in perfectly straight block letters on creamy white paper. Partner Suitability Development. In other words, mandatory date number two, here we come.

Right on cue, my heart leaps into my throat when the door to the bedroom bursts open and Ruby darts out in a blur of rose petals.

"Mornin' Jaune!" she chirps.

"Uh, morning," I stumble over my words, still discombobulated. The letter was a surprise, yeah, but the bigger shock is her complete one eighty in demeanor. Only a few hours ago, we had been ready to bite each other's heads off, and now she's back to normal as if nothing had happened.

No, not quite. Maybe nobody else would notice, but I can feel the tense edge that subtly poisons every second we share. I wish it wasn't, but it's there. But maybe if we both ignore it, it'll just disappear. Some things just need time, right?

I certainly don't want to bring it up. Not yet.

"Sorry, gotta run," she mutters around a piece of bread that's magically appeared in her mouth. "Late for work. I'll talk to you tonight?"

"Isn't it a weekend?"

"Yup. The SDC is running emergency shifts. I guess Grimm attacks have been even worse or somethin'. Everyone really wants dust now."

She's halfway out the door in the blink of an eye, but I reach out and snatch her arm before she's gone. "Wait a second." I shove the letter into her hand. She peruses it curiously until her eyes go wide.

"The caretakers dropped by," I continue while she reads. "We have a date at five tonight. At the Hall of Heroic Endeavors."

Her brow creases in concern, and her gaze whips uncertainly between my face and the paper in her hand. "I dunno if I can get off work in time…"

"Don't think we have any choice," I say ruefully. "If we ditch we'll be in serious trouble."

She gives a reluctant nod. "Yeah, you're right. Ok, I'll be there." She hesitates, before turning and giving me a brief hug. "I'll see you later?"

I return her hug, and a little bit of the tension bleeds away. It's only a little, but it's something. "See you. Be–" should I say it? "Be safe."

"I will," she reassures me. "I… I talked to my boss. Earlier this morning. Nothing dangerous this time. I promise."

This time. We're not done talking about this, not by a long shot, but at least for now there's a ceasefire. Honestly, the fact that she went out of her way to contact her boss births a little ball of warmth in the pit of my stomach.

I give her a gentle push, nodding my head towards the open door. "You're gonna be late."

One final squeeze, and then she's gone.

Which leaves me only a couple hours to figure out how to mitigate a disaster.

See, I remember the last date and how, uh… yeah. Let's just say I don't want to repeat it. Not to mention there's more pressure on the line this time. The caretakers are probably upset with us, because they chose the location this time. I'm willing to bet a hefty sum of lien that we'll have an escort, obvious or subtle, and if they're not satisfied with the results, everything's only going to get more restrictive.

They're going to do everything we can to force us to have a good time. Or at least put on a convincing enough show. Can't have the hope symbols of Vale walking around looking miserable, you know. Bad for the morale of the normal people, and bad morale means more Grimm attacks. At least this way, everyone can delude themselves into believing we're all happy, everyone, the people, the breeders, and the hunters alike, and society can close its eyes and ears and go on with an off-key merry tune.

Yeesh. What a creepy place. Hall of Heroic Endeavors? Sounds like some kind of arena or something.

Anyways, unless I want even more control coming down on me, botching this isn't really going to be a great option, so I better take all the advice I can get. I don't exactly have any past experience to rely on, but I know exactly who to ask. Someone with an entire lifetime of navigating social experiences.

I punch the number into my scroll. It's answered at the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Weiss," I say. "You free today? Because I could really use a huge favor."

::-::-::

It takes a while to argue my case to the caretakers, but eventually they agree to let me go shopping in preparation for the later date. I'm certain that Weiss's influence as the Schnee heiress played an extremely large part in their decision.

After a short walk, we're browsing the storefronts, hoping that something will pop out as a suitable addition to the coming event. Well, I'm browsing, at least. Weiss is mostly complaining.

"I don't know why you asked me for help, of all people," Weiss grumbles as we meander the shops of Founder's. "I'm not any more experienced in these matters than you are."

"I didn't have any better choice," I moan. "So thanks for taking the time to help me. You have to have some idea about what I should be doing for this thing. More than me, at least."

She huffs in irritation, the movement so exaggerated it sends her bangs flying every which way. "Well I don't. You didn't have any other girl to ask?"

"Uh, Blake I guess? But, well…"

"... Yes, I can see how that might be a problem." She rests her face in her hand in what I'm beginning to realize is her 'help-I-have-to-deal-with-Jaune' posture. "Alright, fine. I'll do my best, but don't expect too much. I seriously don't know much of anything about dating normally, let alone what to do with the state breathing down your neck."

"I thought you knew everything," I tease.

She rolls her eyes. "Everything useful."

"You really have no experience? I would have guessed tons of guys asked you out."

"Asked me out? Yes," she agrees. "Got anywhere? Absolutely not. They were all money grubbing idiots after my family name." Her face twists into revulsion at the memories. "Or my face. If I was lucky."

I wince in sympathy. "Sounds tough."

"I got used to it, I suppose."

"Still sounds tough. I never had to deal with anything like that. Girls, uh, weren't interested in me. At all. And I asked quite a few."

"Is that so?" She pauses to study my face. "I don't see why not. You're a nice enough guy, and not bad looking."

"It's me, Weiss. Mister Definition-of-Awkward. If I could string two words together talking to a girl it was a minor miracle."

"Maybe you were before. Not anymore."

I blink in bemusement a couple of times. Not the answer I was expecting. "Sorry?"

"You've changed a lot," she explains, "even since Beacon, and you matured plenty during your weeks there. Let's be honest; you were an intolerable buffoon when I first met you."

I clasp my hand to my heart before sinking to the ground with a dramatic groan. "Have mercy on my ego, snow angel."

She shudders at the nickname. "I can't believe you ever called me that. See how much you've grown?"

"At least I said it as a joke. Can you imagine how bad it would be if I actually meant it?"

"Yes."

"Good thing I didn't, then." Now that I think about it, my Report only happened a few months ago… but it may as well been a few lifetimes. That Jaune Arc died the day his aura was discovered. "A lot's happened," I muse. "I guess I didn't have a choice but to grow. But am I really that different?"

She gapes at me on open mouthed shock. "You seriously didn't notice? Alright, I'll give you an obvious, easy example. You said you couldn't talk to girls in high school, right? We're talking just fine right now, and I'm a girl, aren't I?" She glares at me before a word leaves my lips. "And don't you dare suggest otherwise."

"Yes you are, and you're a very pretty one," I agree, cold sweat condensing on the back of my neck.

She gives me a deathly sweet smile. The cold sweat intensifies. "Good man. See? Just do the same thing with Ruby. You'll be fine."

Ruby… yeah, I don't have a great track record of talking with her recently. "If I don't blow it again."

She actually pauses in the middle of the bustling street to glance at me out of the corner of her eye. "I take it something happened?"

"Uh, yeah, you could say that."

Weiss grabs my hand without an ounce of hesitation and yanks me through the streets until we come to a large, bubbling fountain in the middle of blocks and blocks of restaurants. Shaded tables are strewn around the structures to provide a place for any customers taking a break from frenzied shopping to grab a bite to eat. She drags me over to an unoccupied one on the edge of the clearing and shoves me into a chair before taking a seat opposite.

"Alright. What happened?"

"It's not really that big of a deal," I hedge.

She rolls her eyes. "It was bad enough that I could tell something was wrong since we first met up today. Tell me what happened. Now."

It was that noticeable? I must be more of a mess than I thought. "Alright, alright." Despite my agreement, it's a struggle forcing the words out of my mouth. To admit that what actually happened, happened. "Ruby and I had a fight last night. About her job. It's just… I don't know. I feel terrible about it."

"It was bound to happen eventually. You're really stressed, Jaune," Weiss says, with more gentleness than I knew she was capable of. "You've been under an enormous amount of pressure and change. It's not surprising you might… lose a little control."

"Not really an excuse, though. I was a huge jerk."

She shrugs. "If you feel that way, then go do something about it."

I nod reluctantly, and she takes that as permission to change the subject.

"What were you two fighting about, anyways? And I know it's her job, so please don't waste my time with that as an answer, but what's the specific problem?"

Hang on a second. Wasn't Weiss the one who helped Ruby find her job? Did she know that it involves so much danger?

"You set Ruby up, right? For her job, I mean."

"I put her in touch with the appropriate people, yes," Weiss confirms. "What does that have to do with it?"

"She came back last night badly injured," I state bluntly. Her eyes widen in shock, but she doesn't interrupt. "Beowolf wounds on her arm, all the way up to her shoulder. She almost bled out."

"Impossible," Weiss gasps.

"And yeah, I didn't take it well, and I guess she didn't take my not taking it well very well." I pause. "Wait, did that make any sense at all?"

"No, but just go on."

"That's all there is. I wanted her to quit, she didn't want to, we fought." My eyes narrow. "Actually, why did you give her such a dangerous job?"

"I didn't!" Weiss protests vehemently. "She was just supposed to be running packages between SDC facilities when bad traffic causes large detours. Everything is in Vale. It should have been perfectly safe." She's lost in thought for a moment, but suddenly she goes stiff and her voice turns frigid. "Unless…"

"Unless what?" I prompt.

"SDC does have facilities outside the city. Military outposts, automated mining operations, research sites, that kind of thing. But trips to those locations are normally done with military force or drones. Ruby should have been well away from them…" She slams the table without warning, causing me to jump in my seat. "Unless a certain brat did something he wasn't supposed to. I'm going to kill him."

"Who?"

"I'm not completely sure. I only have my suspicions. I'll deal with it and let you know." She shoots to her feet and strides off, back into Founder's plaza. "It's not important right now. Come on. We need to figure out how to get you ready for tonight."

::-::-::

Once we're back into the commercial centers, Weiss slows, then stalls, glancing at each garish storefront with glazed eyes. I take the lead, tugging gently on her arm to get her moving before she's jostled by irate shoppers.

"You alright?" I call back.

"Yes," she murmurs, still sounding dazed. "I'm sorry. The noise, the colors, it's all a bit overwhelming."

I understand. When I first came here as a kid, Founder's totally freaked me out. It's not just the crowds and the noise, although the cacophony of a thousand human voices mixed with dozens of different songs blaring from nearby stores would be disorienting enough on its own. As bad as they are, though, the worst part of it is… I don't know, the atmosphere. Founder's lives and breathes its own personality, and the aggression and lightning pace makes the unending stimuli even worse. Friendliness is a struggle and patience a rarity, and you definitely feel it.

"Welcome to Founders," I joke. "First time?"

When she turns her face away from me to hide a slight blush, it's so unexpected that I blurt the first thing that comes to mind. "Wait, is it actually your first time here?"

"Well I never needed to come!" Weiss snaps, all but confirming my suspicions. "My butler bought anything I required."

"But you can't do everything from home. Didn't you ever want to go clothes shopping or something? You gotta browse what's out there and try things on, stuff like that, right?" It would be understandable if she preferred smaller shops in the quieter districts, but from the sound of it, she hasn't even done that.

"Why would I?" Weiss says, eyes drilling a hole into the ground at her feet. "My father chose everything I wore. Otherwise, there was too much risk that I would bring dishonor to the family from poor taste or misreading social expectations. Even if I had bought anything, I would have had to get rid of it."

I… I don't even have it that bad, do I? I thought the caretakers were restrictive enough. I mean, I had to argue with them for ten minutes just to leave my apartment a few hours early. Weiss's childhood though, that's a whole other level. The kind of man that wouldn't even let his kids choose their own clothes wouldn't exactly be open to a lot of things. What else did I take for granted that she never dreamed of experiencing?

If you look hard enough, you can always find someone worse off, I guess. I didn't even need to look that hard.

When she realized she had aura, was that actually liberating? While the rest of us cursed the life to come, was she thankful for the little bit of freedom she would finally be afforded?

I thought so poorly of her at first, at Beacon, because of how she treated Ruby. Yeah, it was wrong. But maybe she didn't know any other way.

"Well, you'll get to choose now," I declare confidently. "Beacon lets you wear what you like off duty, right? We should go find something you like."

"Aren't we here to prepare for your date?" She quips. "I'm doing just fine, thank you very much. My butler has chosen several suitable outfits for me."

"Like that one?" I nod toward her clothes.

"Precisely. Thank you for your concern, but there's no need for it."

I shrug. "Well, if you ever want to pick something yourself for fun or whatever, let me know. I know most of the shops here."

"And dare I ask how you've achieved such remarkable knowledge?" Weiss asks with a mocking half–smile.

"My sisters used to drag me out here all the time. Only guy, you know. They made me carry everything." Maybe I should buy something like chocolate or flowers? Gifts are nice, right? But I've never seen Ruby even eat chocolate except in cookies, so I have no idea if she likes it, and the Hall probably doesn't allow food anyways. And where would we put flowers? And am I supposed to wear something in particular? I have… pretty much nothing outside of normal street clothes. Nice stuff wasn't exactly a high priority for the caretakers, and we weren't allowed to keep our Beacon stuff for obvious reasons.

I can't believe this. I spent eighteen years with multiple sisters, and I have no idea how to act or prep for a date? What did they even teach me?

Actually, I don't want to remember. Too many traumatic memories, mostly involving hair curlers, coercion, blackmail, and clothes I was, uh, poorly suited for. At least once I got older it mellowed out to just coercion and blackmail. Far more manageable.

"Wait, you have sisters?" Weiss comments.

I nod. "Seven, actually."

She throws her hands into the air, a brief frustrated scream tearing itself from her throat. "Well why didn't you ask them for help?!"

I wish I could, Weiss. I really wish I could. There's a lot of painful things about my position, but family is the worst of all. I lie awake at night sometimes, tormented by the echoes of conversations I never finished and memories forever lost, by traditions I'll never repeat and love forever lost. Maybe I'll be able to see them again. Maybe the caretakers won't be so kind.

"I can't contact family for a year, remember?" I choke out through a tightening throat. "If they let me do it at all. We don't all have fathers in charge of multi billion lien companies." How ironic. The one with the father powerful enough to bend rules and talk to her couldn't leave him fast enough, and the one who would give anything to see his family again has no power to do so.

She takes a step back, features wrought into a clear admission of guilt. "... Right. I'm – I'm sorry. It slipped my mind."

I work against the tight, stubborn ball of resentment in my gut. It was nothing but a temporary thoughtlessness. "It's alright. Guess we both have family problems, huh?" Besides, I'm not exactly faultless. I shouldn't have mentioned her father.

"Quite a few, yes," Weiss admits, "but Ruby isn't going to be one of them. Come on. Maybe if we keep looking, something will jump out."

Except that I'm still not sure what I should even be looking for. "Something? Like, something I should do or something I should buy?"

Weiss strides confidently onward, her posture a humorous contrast to her ignorance. "I don't know, so I sure hope it's obvious."

A few hours later, with our time short and our brains devoid of ideas, we came to a very logical conclusion.

It wasn't obvious.

"Any chance you saw something and chose not to mention it?" The only thing more feeble than my hope is my smile.

She shakes her head, too despondent to summon even her trademark sarcasm. "Of course not."

"Should we give up then?"

"No choice," Weiss says, waving her scroll meaningfully. "You're out of time. Maybe we're focusing on the wrong thing. Is what you bring or wear really that important?"

"I don't know," I groan, "but if it isn't I wish you had said something a few hours earlier."

"You didn't think of it either," Weiss accuses, but her exhaustion robs the heat from it. "Look, just go be yourself or something. You're awful at anything else and she's stuck with you anyways, so you might as well get her used to it."

"But what does being myself even mean?"

"I don't know. Don't worry about it. I would say 'don't be dumb,' but that's more or less your defining characteristic." She checks her scroll again. "I need to leave. The next flight to Beacon is in twenty minutes."

"Alright." I give her a short bow. It's stiff and awkward and I have no idea how far to go or how long to hold it, but hopefully she takes the good intention rather than the bad execution. "Thanks so much for helping me out. If you ever need anything, let me know. I owe you a ton of favors."

"Your firstborn child will do," she drawls, but I can see her eyes are sparkling and her mouth twitches with a suppressed smile. "Let me visit and play with her. Or him, if you're unlucky."

"I'm sure Ruby won't complain."

She turns away. "Good luck, Jaune. Let me know how it goes. Don't worry about being a dork, you can't help it."

"See ya."

And then she's gone, and I have ten more minutes to panic before the hour of my death arrives.

Ugh, I really hope this goes well. If I have to deal with that one jerk even more than I already do, something very messy is going to happen.

A/N:

Depending on your point of view, this chapter, specifically Jaune and Ruby's argument, might be the biggest offender of "out of character" so far.

It's pretty hard, though, because in canon we don't really see a whole lot of serious disagreement (there's Blake and Yang in S2, I guess), which means that I have to extrapolate on how a serious disagreement would actually go. Personally, I think there's reasonable hints within canon that Ruby and Jaune would act this way (defensive/passive-aggressive vs. straightforward but hesitant and clumsy/insensitive, whereas Blake and Yang for example are avoidant and blunt/aggressive respectively), but you are free to disagree.

If anyone is curious, I would be happy to expand on my rationale, but I'm trying to get away from miniature essays in the author's notes.

All that being said, thank you guys for all the feedback, both positive and negative. I'm impressed with how insightful some of the reviews have been.

Happy Thanksgiving, for those of you who celebrate it (like me). Hope you enjoy this chapter, and see you next one.

EDIT: As one review in particular helped me realize, I think the argument at the beginning was a bit too OOC. While I stand by my intentions and interpretation, the execution was off, so I've made some changes that I think help a lot.

Thanks for your correction, whoever it was who reviewed, although I wish you had left a name so that I could let you know I've changed stuff.