If consistency is the badge of a good writer, then I'm the world's shittiest. Sorry for the excuses, and enjoy.

Chapter 6: The Badge and the Burden

The sun had risen almost an hour earlier, and light was at last beginning to worm its way under the thick velvet curtains of the dorm room. It struck Weiss's face first, prompting her to cover her eyes and roll over. There was no chance she would fall back asleep, but in this state of partial lucidity she could relax, gather her thoughts, and wake up on her own terms.

Ruby had other ideas. Her whistle blast was loud enough to leave Blake and Yang clutching their ears, but to Weiss, it was downright painful. Her eyes snapped open in an instant and she sat up.

"Ruby!" she hissed. "What are you doing?"

Ruby looked more confused than her partner did. She let the whistle drop around her neck. "Waking you guys up, obviously."

Weiss looked over at the clock that sat on the table next to her. Her body relaxed, all the tension leaving it as she fell back on her pillow once again.

"It's 8 o'clock, Ruby," she said. "I'm still resting." Blake and Yang let out what sounded like affirmative grunts. A short period of blissful silence followed.

"Good morning, Team RWBY!" Ruby yelled, punctuating the statement with repeated blasts of her whistle.

The remainder of the team dragged themselves unwillingly from their beds, pulling on the burgundy uniforms they had been given the day before. Weiss remained in her pajamas.

"Let's get started then!" said Ruby, realizing Weiss wasn't joining them. She paused, scratching her head. "Now, I don't know about you guys, but I haven't even unpacked yet. Soo...I guess we can do that first."

"O.K.," said Blake, turning and walking to her bag. Yang followed her with a shrug.

Ruby sat down on her partner's bed. "Are you going to join us, Weiss? It's your best chance to unpack."

Weiss watched Blake and Yang as they rifled through their enormous duffel bags, then looked to her own, even larger stack of suitcases by the closet. "No," she said, casting her eyes down.

Ruby hopped up. "Well, try and get it done before class. Better now than later."

Weiss answered with a stiff nod, continuing to look at her bags.

"Ruby?" asked Yang from across the room. "Can you hold up this poster for me?"

The next half hour passed in a flash. Dressers were filled, mostly with school uniforms, but also with pajamas and piles of casual clothes for after class or visiting the city. Posters of local bands, teams, and famous huntsmen and huntresses were plastered to every wall. Beds were shoved aside to make room for stacks of books and a folding table. As Team RWBY's bags emptied, the dorm's original furniture was scrunched closer and closer together.

Weiss finally gave in when the ever-expanding piles of clothes and magazines began to besiege her corner of the room. She quickly dressed and spread her own bags out. One of the largest suitcases unfolded like an accordion.

Ruby snickered. "Really? Six dresses?"

Weiss shot her a scornful look, shamefully remembering she had two more in a different bag, then went back to examining the collar of a white jacket. "I don't plan on wearing all of them," she said. "I just like the choices."

"But two of them are the same!" Ruby argued, mouth agape. "Look! The blue ones."

"No they're not," she snapped back, hastily gathering up the dresses. "One is longer, and the fit is totally different—not that you'd understand that kind of thing anyway."

"Hey...guys?" said Yang from the center of the room. "We've got a bigger problem than how many dresses someone brought."

"Ren," hissed Jaune through the door. "Ren! Are you almost done? We have to go to class soon."

"Hm-dhun-dhum," came the faint voice through the bathroom door.

Jaune turned to Pyrrha and Nora, who were standing in line behind him, toothbrushes in hand. "Does he normally take this long?"

Nora shrugged. "Usually. Ren's a morning person, but that doesn't mean he's fast."

"Perhaps," Pyrrha added, "our sanitary needs could be met...elsewhere."

Jaune gave her a funny look. "You mean we should find another bathroom?" he said, continuing after Pyrrha nodded. "I didn't see any in the food court or the main hall. I even asked an older student, and he just told me to use the one in my dorm."

"So this is it?" Nora complained. She walked up and gave the door a poke. "Come on."

"Actually, Nora," Pyrrha said with a smile, "I think Ruby and her team have the room right across the hall. If we asked nicely to use theirs, I'm sure they would let us.

"Oh, please," cut in Jaune. "Four girls? You really think that bathroom's going to be open?"

Silence. Pyrrha shot him a condescending look, and the corner of Nora's mouth curled in irritation. Jaune gulped.

"Sorry about that," he said, hanging his head. "I was joking. Well, mostly."

Pyrrha recovered a little too quickly. "It's fine, it's fine," she insisted. "You weren't trying to be rude."

The three of them crossed the hall, stopping in front of the dorm directly across from their own. From outside the door they could hear shouting muffled by the sound of loud music. Jaune raised his hand to knock, then paused, imagining the response he might get.

"You guys knock," Jaune said. "I'm gonna grab something." He scurried back to their own dorm.

Nora shrugged and knocked, the sound barely audible over the music. No response. The door remained where it was, slightly ajar.

"It's open," Pyrrha realized, nudging it a few inches farther as she did. She poked her head inside the door. "Hello?"

"Hello!" said a familiar voice, slightly out of breath. "We're a little busy here! Come on in!"

Nora needed no further invitation. She swung the door wide. Jaune, who was just returning, froze when he saw the strange apparatus assembled within Team RWBY's dorm. Ropes had been attached to every secure surface—and some less secure ones, like lamps, doorknobs, and suitcases. Suspended from the elaborate system were two of the room's four beds, hanging three or four feet in the air. It was a strange sight to see Yang squatting under a bed with her arms bent, evidently supporting most of its weight, while the rest of her team heaved on a rope enthusiastically. Well, at least Ruby did. Blake pulled disinterestedly while Weiss sat in the corner, sifting through a bag.

Pyrrha looked as surprised as Jaune did. "What's happening here?" she asked as she walked through the door.

"Don't ask me," said Weiss, before her teammates could speak. "We ran out of space on the floor, so instead of cleaning up, our leader thought we should try hanging the beds from the ceiling!"

"Hey!" snapped Ruby, turning to her partner. "Don't write it off before we're even done. It would work a lot better if you were helping."

"Less talking, more lifting," Yang wheezed. Her face was red as she adjusted her grip on the bed. The back-and-forth between her sister and Weiss was going nowhere, and she wanted no part in it.

"We're on it," said Pyrrha, grabbing the edge of the bed. "Nora, you grab the other side."

"Reinforcements have arrived!" cheered Ruby. "Take that, Weiss!"

Weiss scowled at them from the corner. "Sooner or later," she said, "one of you guys is going to get a bed dropped on top of you—and don't say I didn't warn you!"

With Pyrrha and Nora's help, the bed was quickly lifted into place. Ruby tied the corner of her rope to the leg of another bed and gave it a tug. Evidently satisfied with the arrangement, she dropped the end of the rope and began to look through some of the scattered clothes.

"Sorry about that," said Yang, turning to Pyrrha while picking splinters out of her hands. "Do you guys need something?"

Jaune, who had been idling by the door, looked embarrassed. "We just wanted to use your bathroom," he said. "Ren's...taking his time."

"Well, in that case, go ahead." Yang chuckled a little. "But you might want to watch your step. It looks like someone shipped a beauty store here and dumped it all over the floor. You can thank Weiss for that."

Weiss snorted. "In a month or two, you'll all be begging to use what I brought. We'll see who's laughing then."

Blake sighed. "Between the bed lifting and arguing, you're out of time. It's 8:55. I'm leaving for class."

Ruby froze. "8:55?" she said. "Uh oh." Then she was gone, the clothes she had just picked up dropping to the floor as a flash of crimson sped toward the door, scooping up an empty Beacon Academy backpack along the way. Jaune felt a rush of air as she passed.

"For once," said Weiss, glowering, "our leader has the right idea." She stomped out of the room, heels heedlessly crushing clothes and apparel underfoot as she did.

"Shit," Jaune mumbled, looking down at his pajamas. He raised his voice to carry across the hall. "Ren, you'd better be done by now or I'm throwing you out myself!" He bolted for the door and rushed across the hall toward their own dorm.

"Did he forget about the one here?" Pyrrha asked.

For once, Nora had no answer. The two of them exchanged glances and, after a moment, went to brush their teeth. Blake and Yang remained in the room. With only two people around, the magnitude of the clutter seemed much more obvious. The floor looked less like a floor and more like a year's worth of lost-and-found sprinkled across every square inch of the carpet.

"You know," Yang said, scratching her head, "I'm a messy person, but even I'll admit we need to do something about this."

"I agree," said Blake, pulling on her own backpack, "but there's nothing we can do about it for now."

"Well then, they put our whole team together for most of our classes. First one is...Grimm Studies." That was definitely a class Yang was excited for.

"Greetings, my fine, fine students," said Port, strolling across the front of the classroom to the center, in front of the whiteboard. "Welcome to your first year of Grimm studies."

Despite Port's grey-white hair and seemingly ungainly bulk, he spoke and moved with a youthful energy missing from plenty of people half his size and age. A comically bushy mustache completely covered his mouth, making him difficult to read. Even as he went through the mundane process of taking attendance, his voice never lost its pompous, dramatic tone.

"—Yang Xiao-Long?"

"Here."

"Miss Xiao-Long," he said, "what in Remnant happened to the rest of your team?"

"They're here now," she explained. "We all got here at the same time. You just called their names first."

"Don't argue with me, Miss Xiao Long," he snapped, but the retort seemed more amused than angry. "I have to call the names in some order, don't I? But not to worry. Today's your first day of classes, after all."

Port turned to look at the class. "As I was saying, you are beginning your first of two mandatory years of Grimm studies—although most students enjoy it so much that they take four. Isn't that right, Oobleck?"

"Hmm?" came a voice from a door at the side of the classroom. "What's that, Peter?"

"I said," replied Port, "that my class is so popular that most of my students stay for the full four years."

The door the voice had come from opened and a green-haired, bespectacled man poked his head out. He spoke quickly, stringing words and sentences together in a bewildering fashion. "Ahh, yes, Professor," he said. "I can see how students gravitate to your class. Its action and tactics-based nature makes it an appealing choice for students that have grown tired of the lecturing and reading present in many other classes. Not, of course, that you aren't fond of lecturing yourself. I, however, teach my classes at a fast and consistent pace which serves both to keep students engaged and to cover the broad scope of my topic in a timely manner. It is, I believe, the optimal style for teaching history."

The edges of Port's mustache drooped in what might have been a frown. "Whatever you say, Barty."

Oobleck's eyes gleamed under his glasses in victory. He closed the door and returned to his own class.

Port's mustache popped back to normal as the door closed. Unfazed by the exchange and the giggles coming from students, he continued. "Now, where were we? Ah, of course. We were just beginning our first lesson. I'm sure you're all itching to get to the hands-on activities, but before we can do that, we must learn. And what better way to learn than with a quick story from my life?"

Rows of students groaned in unison. While they had never listened to one of Port's anecdotes before, the rumors they had heard in the hallways had prepared them for a painful experience. Former students had recounted hour-long ramblings about the most obscure childhood events, with only the thinnest of connections to what they were actually learning. Any hopes of avoiding such drudgery were quickly vanquished.

"Our story begins where all true stories begin. At home. The home of a brave and handsome young man. Me."

The students groaned. Port ignored them and kept going. "Statistically, most of you lived in a city, but in my time, living in the country was considerably more common. My entire family lived in the same small village, and were as content as any family could be.

"But," he said, letting a dark edge creep into his voice, "our lives were not peaceful. You see, our village lacked any trained huntsmen or huntresses. Don't get me wrong, every so often one would pass through, to great fanfare, but for most of our lives we were unprotected.

"'Peter,' my grandfather told me, 'if I've learned one thing living in this village, it's that you can't rely on others to protect you. You have to protect yourself. It's long overdue that you begin training, so you can join the watch with the other adults.'

"Being the young upstart that I was, I wanted nothing more than to show my grandfather I wasn't as wet behind the ears as I looked. This led me to the rather rash decision of skipping my training entirely. I snuck my father's sword out of his room and through our house, before taking off into the woods with nothing but the clothes on my back."

He paused, and a few of the students erupted into mock applause. The rest had their heads resting in their hands or were staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes.

Port sighed. "We were just pausing for discussion. My story is just beginning! Now, who can tell me what my past self did correctly...and incorrectly?"

Several hands shot up and were called on by the Professor. Students were eager to ridicule Port's childish actions, but none were able to say what their teacher had done right—if anything. Weiss, seated in the first row, listened to her classmates' responses with disappointment. Most were treating the activity as a joke, given how ridiculous the story had been in the first place.

Weiss, however, saw it as a chance to impress her new teacher. She stuck her hand up and began speaking as soon as he pointed to her. "I was just thinking, Professor..." she said, pausing as he nodded to acknowledge her, "that while your actions were not the best thought out, they still demonstrated the proper virtues that a good huntsmen or huntresses should have."

"Hmm...which ones?"

"Well," she continued, throwing a sharp glance at Ruby, who was doodling in the seat next to her, "when you rushed into the woods to help without being asked to, you were showing initiative. And by facing those dangers alone, you were demonstrating bravery—even if it wasn't the smartest decision."

"Very good, Miss Schnee, very good." Port chuckled as he once again addressed the class. "My actions formed the foundation of what each and every one of you must have to succeed: bravery, decisiveness, and selflessness. Although...combat ability and a dash of of common sense can't hurt. The former can be taught, and the latter you hopefully have already."

He turned back to Weiss. "Miss Schnee," he asked, "do you believe you possess the things I just mentioned? The things every true huntress must have?"

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ruby, who was still drawing in her notebook with one hand while the other was stuck up her nostril. She turned to Weiss and snickered. A vein pulsed in Weiss's head. "I do, sir!" she half-shouted, abandoning her composure. Dozing students snapped to attention suddenly at the noise. Realizing they hadn't been called on, their spines and eyelids drooped as they returned to sleep.

Port's eyebrows raised a little. "Good. Now, are you ready to prove it?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Well child, even as a teacher, I have faced thousands of Grimm in my life, but none proved such a formidable foe as the Boarbatusk that first greeted me in the woods surrounding my town."

"And? What does that mean?"

"If I, an untrained boy of fourteen, could defeat a fully-grown Boarbatusk on my own, then there is no doubt a future huntress such as yourself can—in front of the class."

Weiss tried to not look flustered as realization sunk into her. "Now?" she squeaked.

He nodded. "No time like the present! Assuming you're prepared and in fighting shape?"

She searched for an excuse, but then remembered her teammates. Anything she made up they could just refute. Even if they didn't, she would never be able to look them in the eye afterward. Very slowly, she pushed out her chair and tugged Myrtenaster from her belt. "I'm ready."

The students whispered amongst themselves as their teacher brandished a double-bladed axe over a wood plank holding the steel crate closed. The crate trembled slightly as the creature held captive slammed against the sides. Muffled grunts and snuffling sounds could be heard from within.

Grimm in captivity were exceedingly rare. On top of being a bad omen to have around, capturing them was a difficult and dangerous affair. Smaller ones, like this Boarbatusk, were sometimes brought in for training, weapons testing, or fruitless scientific research, but anything larger than an Ursa was simply too strong, too dangerous. Junior Academies almost never used real monsters for training, so for some of the students who had gotten lucky during initiation, it was their first time seeing a hostile Grimm in person.

Ruby on the other hand, was looking at Weiss. She too was excited to see the Grimm emerge, but was more interested in how her partner would deal with it. "Go Weiss!" she cheered. "You can do it!"

Weiss's only response was a flicker of irritation running across her otherwise calm veneer. She held Myrtenaster in front of her, arm straight and tense to conceal any shaking, eyes fixed on the shuddering crate.

"And...begin," Port declared, bringing his axe down on the wooden bar. The wood splintered and a second later was smashed apart by the swiftly opening door of the crate. The Boarbatusk, free from confinement, shook its head as it got its bearings.

Black, glossy, and sporting a pair of long, serrated tusks, the creature was just large enough to be threatening. It carried itself low above the ground on four stubby but powerful legs. Bony white patches stuck out through its fur, and its four beady red eyes squinted in the light. Slowly, its eyes came to focus and settled on the girl standing on the floor across from it.

With a surprisingly sudden movement, it began to charge toward her. Even with its short strides, within a second it was only a sword's length from Weiss. Rather than strike, she somersaulted sideways, expertly keeping her balance even as the narrow bottoms of her heels slid against the floor. The Boarbatusk couldn't turn quickly enough. It continued to lurch forward, finally digging in its hooves and skidding to a stop a few feet shy of the wall. A few students gasped.

Weiss took advantage of the opening to take a free stab at its backside, but her blade clashed against one of the creature's bony plates. As she recoiled, the Boarbatusk curled its head and hind legs into its stomach, forming a ball. The Grimm began to turn and roll toward her with an agility that it had lacked while supported by its legs.

Caught off guard by the tactic, Weiss leapt into the air, summoning a glyph to support herself as the spinning boar rolled underneath her. Fortunately, the beast's ability to stop seemed even poorer than it had been while it was running. In vain it tried to stop as it drew closer to the sturdy panel separating the seats from the staging area at the front of the classroom. The impact popped the creature out of its curled-up state, leaving it stranded on its back a few seconds before it managed to roll over.

Ruby couldn't help but notice the black, shiny skin on the Grimm's belly. "Weiss," she called out, "go for its belly! There's no armor underneath."

"Don't distract me, Ruby," she shouted back.

The Boarbatusk got to its feet and made another pass. Weiss sidestepped the charge before driving her sword sideways. It lodged between the beast's tusks, dragging her along with it. She planted her feet, using the full strength of her arms and shoulders to throw the creature to the floor. The sudden movement dislodged her sword, which rolled across the room before clattering against the wall.

"Oh-oh!" chimed in Port. "Now things are getting interesting. What will you do without your weapon?"

Weiss's answer to that was simple: get her weapon. With the beast still down, she scrambled across the room, grabbing Myrtenaster with stiff fingers. The Grimm charged one final time, but Weiss was ready. She summoned a glyph, facing forward at ground level in front of her. The boar slammed into it mindlessly, and the impact caused the glyph to shudder, blue energy leaking from its edges, but it held. Weiss was unscathed.

The same couldn't be said for the Boarbatusk, who lay on the floor, stunned. A quick stab to the creature's belly finished it for good. Weiss withdrew her blade and immediately strutted off the stage.

Bravo! Bravo," said Port as the Grimm's body began to smoke and boil. "We are indeed in the presence of a true huntress-in-training. Now, everyone return to your regular seats. Let's review tonight's reading before you go."

"Weiss!" called Ruby as she rushed down the hall. "Weissss!" She turned the corner and snatched her partner by the arm. "Why did you run off like that?"

Weiss recoiled as if a snake had bitten her. "What do you want, Ruby?"

"Well, you did great during the fight, but afterward you looked really upset. And after class you ran off without saying anything. What happened?"

"You happened," she snarled.

Ruby couldn't help her eyes from going slightly watery. Her efforts to check in with her teammate had only made things worse. "What did I do?"

"That's just it! You've done nothing to deserve your position. Every decision you've made has been immature and childish. I'm older and more experienced; I should have been our leader."

"But I didn't ask to be a leader! Ozpin chose me."

"Then he chose wrong."

"Weiss!" Ruby cried as her partner began to walk away. "What happened to 'making our team the best'? Yesterday, that's what you said you wanted to do."

"A lot has changed since yesterday. I have lost whatever shred of confidence I had in your abilities. I still want my team to be the best, I've just accepted the fact that it will be impossible with you at the helm."

A voice spoke up from behind Ruby as soon as Weiss was out of view. "Hmm. That didn't turn out too well, did it?"

Ruby looked around—and up. Tiny, dark-lensed glasses, grey hair, a cane. It was Ozpin. "Oh," she mumbled. "Did you hear all of that?"

He shook his head. "Only caught the tail-end."

Ruby realized he was waiting for her to speak, so she did. "Is Weiss right? Am I a bad leader? Did you make a mistake?"

Ozpin smiled, a change from his ordinarily blank visage. He shifted his weight. "That remains to be seen. New team leaders often fail to realize that keeping teammates in good standing with each other is just as important as leading them into battle. Far more important, actually. But you realize, and you care. That bodes well."

Ruby managed to nod along. "But…was it a mistake?"

I've made more mistakes than anyone at this school," said Ozpin. "More than anyone in Remnant, most likely. But at this time, I would not consider your appointment to be one of them."

He began to walk away, but then stopped and turned before continuing. "It's only your second day. Focus on honing your skills, rather than judging them, and don't worry if others judge them for you. Take it as a compliment that they care at all.

"As a leader, you are accountable for the actions and inactions of those that you are leading. It's not just a title you carry with you in the field, but a badge of responsibility that you wear constantly. Work with your team, befriend them, and make compromises. Only by doing that can you prevent that badge from becoming a burden. Good luck."

Peter Port stood on the balcony, allowing the midmorning sun to shine on his weathered face. A light breeze tickled his mustache. It was the click of heels on stone that prompted him to turn away from his magnificent view of the countryside.

"Professor?" said Weiss. "Uhm…"

"Ah, Miss Schnee!" said Port, in the same booming voice he used to address a room full of students. "To what do I owe this fine pleasure?"

"I…enjoyed your class. It was very informative, and I was impressed you had live Grimm sitting around for us to fight."

"And I was impressed by the ease with which you dealt with it. But if my intuition is correct, that was not why you came to see me."

"No, actually. Something is bothering me."

"I knew it! Dear girl, confess to me your strife."

Weiss tried to not look embarrassed. "I think I should have been the leader of Team RWBY."

"That's preposterous," Port said, not hesitating for a second. "Professor Ozpin has seen hundreds of teams pass through this school, and he has selected the leader for every single one. He always manages to choose the most qualified person, even if their qualifications aren't immediately apparent."

"So you'd just blindly follow him even after seeing how exceptional I am?"

"With all due respect, young lady, your exceptional skill is matched only by your exceptional-ly poor attitude."

"How dare you!"

"I don't blame you at all."

"What?"

"Your privileged upbringing is no secret at this school."

"So that's what this is about? You guys all think I'm spoiled? That it would be good for me to not have my way for once?"

"I didn't say that. I just see a person in front of me who is used to getting what they want."

"That's not even remotely true. My dad—"

He waved a hand to silence her. "I don't want to hear it. Your upbringing did not preclude your chances at becoming team leader. Now, listen to what I say carefully. Is being a leader all it's cracked up to be?"

"Of course it is."

"Putting up with constant scrutiny, taking the brunt of the blame, all the extra work—for what, having your name said first?"

Weiss gritted her teeth. "Don't try to convince me it's not worth it."

"Consider this, then. It always bothered me when schools promise to 'turn your children into great leaders.'" Port laughed. "We only need so many leaders. On teams like yours, it's one leader for every four students. With other jobs, it can be far less. One person leading a group of ten—or a company of hundreds. We need good followers even more than we need people to lead them.

"Listen to those in charge of you and you'll earn just as much respect—and create opportunities to be a leader in other capacities. I wasn't the leader of my team, but did that stop me from becoming a teacher?"

"I guess it didn't," Weiss admitted. "So, you're saying I should just suck it up and listen to Ruby?"

"If you want my honest answer," Port said, "it's all you can do. You had the same opportunity as everyone else to be chosen, and you weren't. Do you really think complaining to those in charge will change their minds? More likely it will confirm their suspicions that you want to be a leader for personal gain only. So instead of fretting over what you don't have, savor what you do. Support Ruby and the rest of your team, and be not the best leader, but the best follower, teammate, and person you can be. I know you can do it."

Weiss searched for something to say, then decided it would be better to remain silent. She folded her arms and smiled.

The dorm room lay in silence. Yang was sprawled on her bunk, arms and legs splayed over the sides, snoring heavily. Blake lay below on her own bed with sheets and blankets twisted around her like a cocoon. Ruby was passed out in a half-sitting position. Leather-bound books with spidery writing covered her lap and a blanket had been hung up to screen her bed. An extinguished candle sat on the table next to her.

A click marked the opening of the door. It opened fast, but a hand snaked through the gap and grabbed it before it got close to the wall. Weiss crept in, barefoot and with a steaming mug in her other hand. She closed the door carefully before pulling away the blanket over Ruby's bed.

The bottom of the blanket had been tucked under Ruby's arm, and the sudden jostling pulled her from sleep. She gasped when she saw Weiss standing over her, then burst forth a sea of apologies and excuses.

"Shh," Weiss whispered. "Not so loud. You were studying, right?"

"Yeah I had to finish the reading for Port's class, but I just fell asleep! I don't know if I can focus now."

Weiss nodded and smiled. "In that case, how do you take your coffee?"

"Coffee? I don't really…"

Weiss waved the mug. "Answer the question."

"Cream and five sugars," she stammered, "and not too hot."

Weiss dug the sugars out of her bag, and the cream out of a miniature refrigerator, before bringing the mug back over to the bed. Ruby clutched at it but Weiss held it just out of reach. "One last thing, Ruby."

"Yeah?"

"I always wanted bunk beds as a kid."

I have some gripes with this chapter, like it reading too much like a script, but I was sick of delays. Someday I'll revisit, as I always say...