One year later…

Water poured from the bathroom faucet, and Cyan felt her hands tremble from from the spike in temperature. She thoroughly rinsed them, ran her fingers through a towel until they were suitably dry, then stared up at the reflection in the mirror in front of her. Slowly, she turned her head back and forth, holding portions of her hair tightly between her fingers and examining it closely for a moment before letting it fall, only to repeat the process with another grouping in almost the same spot. After careful consideration, she lifted up a small pair of scissors from the edge of the sink, pulled the most recent bundle of hair back tightly and snipped a small length from the end of it. Then she let it fall free and turned her head again, studying the results intently. It was surprisingly delicate work, even considering everything else she had done, and she had to make an effort not to stare at any one spot for too long for fear of being overwhelmed by anxiety. Instead she focused on her breathing, slowing it to an almost ritualistic rhythm. She made the turning of her head part of the ritual as well, focusing on the whole instead of the insignificant flaws within the smaller portions of it. With another deep breath, she turned her head to the other side, gathered up more strands, and moved the scissors slowly towards it again.

And then a sudden pounding erupted from the closed door about a foot away from her ear.

Cyan snatched the scissors away before her startled jolt could do any real damage and then shot a glare at the door, "You know, there is more than one bathroom in this house!"

The knocking continued, and was soon joined by Lyohniy's voice, "Yeah, I know. I already used it. So did Vermilion. And Roan. What's taking you so long?"

She once more clipped a carefully measured lock from the ends of her hair before frowning at the door again, "I said I would be a while. I'll be done when I'm done."

"We're gonna be late, you know."

With another irritated sigh, Cyan ran the fingers of both hands over the top of her head, smoothing her hair between them. With each pass she wrapped it tighter, and then spun a simple black elastic tie around it, flush against the back of her head. Her first effort was entirely too tight for her liking, so she pulled it free and started again. It took another two tries before she managed to get it at the correct height and appropriate level of comfort. All the while, the knocking continued almost incessantly.

"Alright, already!" she snapped, and the noise abruptly stopped.

Once she had finished with the tie, Cyan picked her pendant up from its resting place near the edge of the sink, and fastened it into place around her neck. Then she inhaled as she stared at her reflection again, and let it out slowly. This was about as good as she was going to get without a second opinion. She took one last calming breath, turned the knob on the bathroom door, and stepped out into the hall.

Lyohniy stood less than a meter away talking quietly with Roan, whom she guessed had come to investigate what all the noise was about. Lyohniy had cropped his hair even closer than normal, and was wearing a finely groomed mustache with a thin patch at his chin, which accentuated his facial features quite well. Roan had trimmed away much of his normally free-flowing gray locks and wound the remainder into a tightly knotted braid about as thick as his finger that stretched from the back of his neck to about the top of his shoulderblades. The two of them stopped their conversation and watched Cyan as she approached.

Where before her auburn colored hair had fallen to a bit below her shoulders, it was now cut short enough that the tip of her ponytail just barely reached the back of her neck. The front had been trimmed into two long bangs that fell to her chin on both sides of her face. While the hair in front maintained it's normal color, her ponytail had been dyed a golden yellow blonde, which faded to a soft orange where her hair met in the middle.

"Well?" she asked nervously, "What do you think?"

Roan nodded once and made a small sound of approval, causing Cyan to roll her eyes and wonder briefly why she was expecting any other response from him. Lyohniy on the other hand stared at her in silence with his eyes wide and his jaw hanging open. After a moment of this, Cyan started to feel awkward.

"...Wow." he said at last.

Cyan broke into a grin as took a step closer, gently wrapping her right bang around her fingers, "Really?"

"Y-yeah!" he said, fighting through nervous laughter, "You look… I mean...", he repeatedly stumbled over his words, and Cyan felt herself starting to turn red, "That is so—"

All of the sudden, he stopped and his smile vanished, replaced by a strange wide-eyed look of concern. He opened and closed his mouth several times without saying anything, and kept glancing around the hall as though the words he were seeking might be found somewhere in it.

"Functional." he said at last, with all the enthusiasm of an afternoon weather report.

Cyan blinked at him, letting her hand fall to her hip as she tilted her head in confusion.

"...It's 'functional'?" she repeated, narrowing her eyes at him.

He nodded his head vigorously in an apparent attempt to regain his earlier avidity, "Yeah, you know, it won't get in your way so much like this."

She gave him a hard stare, and was certain she saw a visible gulp, "Gee, thanks. That was certainly first and foremost on my mind when I decided on this."

She then spun on her heel to storm off down the hall and immediately bumped into her brother. Vermilion wasn't looking at her, but rather in Lyohniy's direction with his brow furled almost in a scowl. He dropped his expression when he glanced down at her and started to speak, but Cyan shook her head and brushed past him in a huff. He watched her go, then turned back towards Lyohniy, raising an eyebrow at him again.

"...What?" Lyohniy shrugged as innocently as possible.

Vermilion held the gaze for a moment longer and then turned to walked down the hall. It wasn't until after he had left that Lyohniy noticed Roan staring at him as well, his expression relatively blank, save for his eyes which were slightly lifted in amusement.

He returned his stare and shrugged even harder, "What?"

Roan said nothing, and they followed the others down the hall.

Mrs. Zee was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs and she met Cyan in the middle of the room with one of her signature hugs.

"Oh!" she said, a smile beaming out from her, "Come and let me see you."

Cyan once again felt herself flush from being put on display, and she looked at the ground while turning in place for her.

"You look wonderful!" Mrs. Zee exclaimed again, pulling her into an even tighter hug.

"Thanks." she tried to say, but it only came out muffled.

When Lyohniy descended the stairs with Roan, she released her bear hug and turned her attention towards him.

"Look at you." she said, admiring his finely trimmed features, "So much like your father."

Lyohniy smiled and touched a hand to the lapel of his coat, "You think so?"

She nodded, and Cyan glanced in his direction. Instead of their normal uniforms, they had all taken advantage of the option to wear an outfit of their choosing. Lyohniy for his part, had kept it simple: his forest green duster over a white sleeveless shirt, with tan colored cargo pants and black laced combat boots. Roan was wearing a new hooded shirt that Mrs. Zee had presented to him last night for the occasion. It was a combination of dark blues and reds along the chest, with a dark leather jacket layered over the top. Both sleeves had been removed up to the shoulder, giving him the range of motion he desired. He completed the ensemble with a new pair of blue jeans belted at the waist and tucked into simple gray boots that reached his knees, covering them with protective pads.

With the four of them assembled downstairs, Mrs. Zee turned her admiration to the group, "You've all come so far. It feels like yesterday you two were just moving in down the street" she said, shaking her head in a mixture of pride and disbelief.

Cyan felt herself start to blush again, then blinked as a pair of cases sitting against the wall in the living room caught her attention. They were large, durable looking things with metal bands lining the edges.

"What are those?" she asked.

Mrs. Zee turned and tried to hide the grin spreading across her face, "Those are for you and Vermilion. A present from Conroy."

Cyan exchanged a look of surprise with her brother, and they both followed Mrs. Zee into the room. She took hold of the handle and with great effort managed to scoot the larger of the two cases a few inches across the floor, before Lyohniy made it close enough to take the case from her, easily lifting it from the floor with one arm. And then lifting the second case with his other arm. Cyan couldn't help but admire how strong he had become. Not just physically, either. He had come a long way with his tutoring as well. It had been difficult at first, as Cyan had expected it to be, and there had been more than a few times where he had wanted to give up. But their collective stubbornness had paid off, and after a month or two it was like a wall had been broken down. Once he had drilled the basics of Dust theory into his head, the rest started falling into place. Soon he was reciting formulas, recalling Grimm statistics, and even calculating trajectory better than her, Vermilion, or Roan ever could.

"From Dad?" Vermilion's question pulled Cyan out of her thoughts.

Mrs. Zee nodded as Lyohniy set the cases down at their feet in the middle of the living room, "He told me about it some time ago." and she looked towards Vermilion, "It's something he always intended to give to you when you graduated."

Vermilion looked between her and the case in front of him as he knelt down to undo the clasp and swing the lid open. Inside was a layer of foam insulation, and removing that revealed a deep crimson colored breastplate. It featured large pauldrons that interlocked across the middle of the chest, and gold-colored engravings on all the seams. A pair of gauntlets in a similar style with plates that covered the elbow were also inside the case, along with greaves and a small layer of chainmail that completed the set. The suit itself looked clean, though well-worn, and all of the leather straps and buckles were brand new. It also looked to have been recently fitted. Vermilion stared silently into the case in front of him.

"What is it?" Roan asked.

"An heirloom." Vermilion replied quietly, "I've seen it in old photos. This was our great-grandfather's during the war."

The room fell silent as Vermilion lifted the breastplate from the case and nodded approvingly towards it.

"And this is for you, Cyan." Mrs. Zee indicated the yet unopened case, "Conroy had it commissioned just before he…" her voice trailed off in a note of regret, and she shook her head, "It wasn't delivered until just this morning, and I wanted to give them to you together."

Cyan didn't wait for her to finish. She knelt down and hastily undid the clasp on the case, and removed the top layer of insulation. A gleaming cerulean breastplate with layered bands of metal on the shoulders and sturdy looking tassets lay inside, along with a forearm protector and arm guard for her off-hand, and a pair of buckled boots that came up to just below the knee. It was designed in a similar manner to Vermilion's, but with a bright silvery trim, and the whole of it was polished almost to a glow. Cyan ran her fingers lightly along the surface, and was surprised to feel how cool it was to the touch.

"It's perfect..." she said, swiping her hand at her eye to catch a single tear that was threatening to fall. She caught Vermilion smiling broadly at her from the corner of her eye, and couldn't help but return it with one of her own. She wanted nothing more but to run back upstairs and put it on, but she also remembered the time. Lyohniy seemed to sense her line of thinking, and began heading for the front door.

"C'mon, already!" he said, "You can change into it when we get there. Let's go!"

With Roan's help, they closed the cases again and hoisted them outside to the present Lyohniy had received yesterday. A two-door convertible coupe, cherry red, sat on the gravel of the driveway just behind Mrs. Zee's van. Cyan could see a twinkle in Lyohniy's eyes as he looked at the car, and it made her grin. Of all his accomplishments over the last year, he hadn't seemed quite so proud of any of them as this one. The car wasn't exactly brand new; the paint was faded, and there were more than a few dents, but according to Lyohniy this only added to the character. Considering the lengths he expounded on what it was capable of to the three of them the night before, he was far more excited about its performance than its appearance. His enthusiasm had come as quite a surprise to Cyan, and it made her wonder when he even found the time to learn so much about cars. Lyohniy opened the trunk and stored both cases inside, but before he could make it to the driver side door, Mrs. Zee wrapped her arms around him in another massive hug.

Lyohniy winced and laughed, "Mom, come on."

"I'm sorry." she chuckled, shaking her head, "I'm just so very proud of you. All of you."

Despite his protests, Lyohniy couldn't keep the grin off of his face. Cyan stood next to him, her brother right by her side. Mrs. Zee admired them both, "You're father would be proud of you as well."

Lyohniy smiled again, "Thanks mom."

Suddenly her expression turned forlorn, and her eyes took on a serious look like Cyan had never seen before.

"The path you've taken is a dangerous one. And I hope you know that there are a lot of people who have gone even farther than you and and haven't made it." her voice trailed off with a deep sigh.

Cyan said, "Don't worry. We'll be careful. I promise."

Much to her surprise, Mrs. Zee began to laugh, "I don't want you to be careful, child."

They all blinked once and stared at her, and she gave Cyan a sly grin, "I want you to kick butt."

After a few seconds of silence, they burst into laughter, and with one final goodbye all piled into the car.

Cyan spent most of the ride in silence. She tried to allow the gentle caress of the wind clear her head, but her thoughts continued to focus on one thing. On the one hand, she supposed it spoke well of her determination that she should continue to obsess over her objective so thoroughly, but any joy she might have derived from that fact was more than overshadowed by her annoyance at their lack of progress.

"Roan?"

He craned his head back from the front seat to look at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Did you learn anything new?"

He sighed and recounted the information for her, "Roman Torchwick. A minor thug with suspected ties to half a dozen different criminal organizations. Apparent connections in the international business community as well. Arrested three years ago on breaking and entering charges. Escaped custody and hasn't been seen since."

It was Cyan's turn to sigh, "So the same as yesterday?"

"And the day before." Vermilion said from the seat next to her.

She rubbed her hands on her temples and let out a frustrated growl, "It's been a year already! Why is one person so hard to find?"

"He is very clever." Roan said, "And patient. We must be too if we hope to locate him."

Vermilion nodded, "Whatever he's up to, he's clearly playing the long game."

"We'll find him." Lyohniy said simply, and without a hint of doubt. That made Cyan smile, and she settled back contentedly in her seat.

"Besides," Vermilion said, "We have more important concerns today, don't we?"

"If you say so." Cyan replied with a shrug.

Vermilion frowned, "It's technically part of our graduation."

"It's 'technically' a formality." she said back at him.

"It's more than that," he insisted, "It's proof that we've taken in everything we've been taught so far and put it into practice. Not to mention presenting it to the academy headmasters that will be attending."

"Plus it's a chance to show off." Lyohniy added, "I'd have figured you'd be all over that."

Cyan's mouth fell open, "I do not enjoy showing off!"

The other three exchanged long looks.

"Right." Lyohniy said, "Not even during that presentation you did where you mathematically disproved Natural Combinant Dust Theory?"

"I worked really hard on that!" she said with all of the righteous indignation she could muster.

"Or that time you perfectly replicated one of Instructor Jared's advanced combat exercise routines after only one day?" Vermilion asked, working hard to keep from grinning.

Cyan felt herself start to flush, "It wasn't that difficult…"

Roan, who had been studying something on a ringed binder in his lap, said without looking up, "Or the time you—"

"Okay! Enough already." Cyan scowled at them and folded her arms.

Lyohniy snickered in triumph, and Vermilion grinned as he said, "Look on the bright side: this time it's not only permitted, but encouraged."

"And rewarded." Lyohniy added, still looking entirely too pleased with himself for Cyan's liking.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Vermilion's hand start to reach for her, and she readied herself to swat at him when he tried to pat her on the head again. Much to her surprised, he instead rested it on her forearm and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

She looked over at him, and he said with a smile, "Don't worry so much. You're going to do great."

It surprised her how much he reminded her of Dad.

"I'm not worried." she said almost reflexively, and it came out a little snappier than she meant it to.

"Of course." Vermilion replied with a patronizing nod, and settled back into his seat.

Cyan turned her head away and briefly considered muttering something about how annoying it was when he pretended to know what she was thinking. She stopped when she realized that, for some reason, she found herself more comforted than annoyed. So instead she simply smiled back and nodded, then proceeded to take his advice.

They spent the remainder of the car ride in relative silence, and Cyan let her mind relax and drift from one thought to the next. Once they arrived at the school and parked, the twins retrieved their respective cases from the trunk. Both Cyan and Vermilion needed to change, Roan indicated that he had to put some finishing touches on his own project, and Lyohniy needed to speak with Instructor Jared. They bid each other a tentative farewell and headed in opposite directions. The locker room was almost devoid of activity, and Cyan guessed that everyone else must be at the auditorium right now. That suited her just fine, as it gave her more time to concentrate. Even as Cyan dressed herself in her new armor she continued to allow her mind to relax, focusing on nothing but the steps necessary to prepare herself, just like Jared had taught her to do. She hadn't stayed after school with him for well over a month, what with all the preparations he and the rest of the faculty had to attend to. What had started as a punishment had become such a routine part of her life that it felt strange not to be doing it. Her mind started to drift to one of their last sessions.

It was cold in the the training room, as it normally was. Cyan had usually been too busy working up a sweat to feel it. But this time she was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed, and her fingers interlaced in her lap. In front of her were three small wooden footstools, with a different color faceted crystal resting on each one. Her breath went in and out in slow and measured rhythm as she focused all of her attention on the blue one in the center. She and Instructor Jared had discovered, almost by accident, that as her Semblance began to affect a Dust crystal, it would start to glow. With most of the overhead lighting turned off, the room was occasionally bathed in a mixture of colors that waxed and waned with each breath she took.

"Concentrate." the instructor's voice floated softly in her ears from somewhere behind her.

She shut out absolutely everything of her except for the dull warmth coming from the stools in front of her.

"Good." he said, "Now, just the water crystal."

Focusing on the sensation of warmth, she started to feel a familiar pull, and envisioned a hand in her mind that reached out towards it. The blue crystal in front of her began to gently rattle in place. She then frowned when the other two began to do the same.

"Concentrate.", the voice repeated, as a few gentle footsteps approached her from behind.

"I am concentrating." she said through bared teeth.

The harder she focused, the more the rattling intensified. Cyan curled her lower lip inward and stared furiously at the crystals, steadily growing more agitated the more they refused to cooperate. With a sharp exhale, she released the tension inside of her, and in a bright flash of light erupted from the top of the stools as the energy from all three crystals simultaneously burst towards her across the room. The color shifted in tone to a bright blue hue as it washed over her aura, and in an instant it was gone.

Jared paced a few steps forward and stared at the smoking remains of the Dust crystals, and then looked down at the floor where Cyan was sitting. She stared back up at him, and after a few moments of silence he turned to walk towards a silver-lined storage case that had been placed near the wall.

"Let's try it again."

Cyan scoffed in disgust as she uncrossed her legs and rose easily to her feet, "Why bother? What's the point of this?"

The instructor had retrieved three new crystals from the case and was on his way back to the center of the room when he took note of her, and stopped in place as he waited for her to continue.

"I can already handle more than ten times the energy I could six months ago." she said, with more than just a hint of pride, "And I don't even feel that anymore."

"It's not your power that's in question here." Jared said, pointing a finger at her, "You need control to go along with it. Suppose you try to absorb an enemy's attack and take everything from your weapon along with it? Or from your closest teammate?"

"Since when do the Grimm attack with Dust-based energy?" she said, tightening her brow in a defiant knot.

Jared ignored her, "Or suppose you happen upon a natural Dust deposit when you're out in the field? You have no idea what will happen to you if you go too far over your limit."

Given where she woke up after she had been pulled out of her burning home, she did, in fact, have a reasonable basis for assumption on what might happen. Despite her irritation, his point was well and made. She could feel the defiance start to drain out of her, and resumed her position on the floor as Jared replaced the Dust crystals in preparation for her next attempt.

"Your Semblance is unique, Cyan." he continued, "Dangerous without precise control; to you and possibly those around you. It's not the kind of ability you can just wield like a club."

She recognized the tone in his voice, and knew better now than to try and argue with it. With another sigh, she settled herself back down and started measuring her breathing. Again.

"Just relax. You'll get past this," he reassured her, "and move on to planning your presentation before you know it."

Cyan began to slow her breathing with to a steady rhythm and asked, "What's that supposed to entail, exactly? For something so important, they've hardly told us anything in class."

Jared finished his arrangement and stepped to the side, "That's up to you. The only real requirement is that you display your aptitude. Most students work out a floor exercise. Some of them choose to demonstrate mock combat against a practice target."

She pondered his words as her mind gradually started to clear. Jared moved to the back of the room and dimmed the lights once again, "I have no doubt you'll come up with quite the show to put on, given that thing you'll be demonstrating with."

"That thing?" Cyan said, fixing him with a glare, "Do you have any idea how much time I've spent—?"

"Focus." He cut her off, gesturing towards the crystals.

Cyan glanced at him, and from the corner of her eye noted the hot, vivid colors the Dust crystals wildly pulsed with. She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and blew it out slowly. And focus, she did.

In fact, she became so focused that she bumped headlong into something as she turned the corner immediately after exiting the locker room.

"Ow!" she rubbed her forehead, and got a good enough look to make out a vaguely person-shaped object, "Sorry. I wasn't paying attention to where—"

Her words stuck in her mouth as the figure in front of her turned around. She almost didn't recognize him without his school attire, instead wearing a cleanly pressed dark-grey uniform, with an open car coat similar in style to Atlesian military dress, with a black button-down shirt underneath and a pair of fingerless black gloves. He was also wearing a small pocketed bandolier that secured the coat to his shoulders, and had apparently paused here to fasten a weapon belt around his waist, from which hung a rapier-style sword with an intricately carved half-basket hilt.

"Jet…"

The boy blinked at her several times in sudden recognition, "…Cyan."

Silence reigned in the empty hall as the two of them stared at each other, and it didn't take long for her to grow uncomfortable enough to speak.

"It's… been a while." she said, upon realizing she had nothing else to say, "It feels like I haven't seen you all year."

Jet quietly cleared his throat, and inclined his head in a manner that Cyan could almost mistake for politeness, "Well if I recall, those were your explicit instructions, were they not?"

Now it was Cyan's turn to blink in surprise, "I guess so, but… I mean, I didn't expect you to, you know, actually listen. I figured you'd just lay off for another week or so, and then go right back to being a jerk."

He calmly finished attaching the belt around his waist and replied, "Yes, well, I believe you made it quite clear that, at our current rate of exchange, that would have cost me the limbs of at least one teammate."

That almost made her laugh. In spite of everything she had seen, heard, and learned, this was now the most surreal moment of her entire life.

"If you'll pardon me, then," he said, "I have some preparations—"

"Right. Sure." she nodded quickly, eager for the exchange to be over with, "You're, um, pardoned."

Jet stared in silence for another moment, and then turned to walk down the hall. Cyan winced her eyes closed and rubbed at them, as if doing so would somehow might physically remove the situation from her memory.

"You… look different."

Cyan stopped and looked back up to find Jet glancing at her over his shoulder.

"Well, I did get taller, so…" she allowed her voice to trail off into more uncomfortable nodding.

"Indeed." he said with quiet consideration, and then nodded himself, "Well then. Best of luck."

She stared after he him until he disappeared at the end of the hall.

He's messing with you again, the little voice in her head told her, has to be.

"Right…" she answered the voice, and began making her way to the main auditorium.

"Has to be."