The hallways of Beacon were crowded, noisy, and smelt like gunfire and sweat, but for Blake, they were familiar. Normal.

A normality that she desperately craved right now.

Her morning qualified as one of the weirdest she'd ever experienced, and although the rest of the day had almost been boring compared to that, it was like trying to put out a wildfire with a bottle of water.

She still remembered how it felt like to be… connected to Yang, for a lack of a better word.

The thought made her pause in the hallway, her face redder than an apple. She needed a better word. Dear God, she needed a better word.

A jostle from someone turned her mobile again, and she felt her face gradually return to normal colouration.

Good thing too, since the next thing she heard was, "Hey Blake!"

"Yang," she responded, stepping off to the side of the hallway. "Hey."

Yang grinned.

"How's your day been?"

Shrugging, Blake said, "Fine, mostly. Just… you know, weird start."

Yang's smile slipped.

"Yeah, true." she said, placing her hands on her hips. She glanced down, and Blake briefly thought she had something on her shoe.

"So, um." Yang said, looking up, "Anything… happen today? I mean, weird stuff?"

Blake shook her head.

"No, not really. It was… normal."

"Okay." Yang closed her eyes and breathed out. "So um… Weiss wants to take some samples of us, and she's going to send them off tomorrow."

"DNA samples?" She crossed her arms. "That seems like a bad idea."

Yang chuckled, and waved the thought off.

"She's got enough leverage to keep them quiet."

"What, like blackmail?"

Yang glared at her.

"Leverage," she hissed, "Should at least try to keep it a secret."

"Oh, of course." Blake leaned against the wall. "'Cause we've been doing such a great job of that so far…"

Yang tilted her head, and moved beside her.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Blake started, "I was caught on camera. There's video footage of me breaking the law."

"Hey, you've never been charged with anything—well, at least that we know of…"

"That doesn't matter!" she yelled, "What if…" she paused for a minute, and when she started talking again it was much quieter, "What if someone sees it? Someone here or, hell, Cinder?"

"Then we'll deal with it." Yang grabbed her shoulders. "Me, Ruby, Weiss, we'll deal with it. We—what's happening to my hand?"

They both looked at Yang's right, glowing hand. Blake's own aura was lit, and the two could slowly see them melding together. Yang quickly pulled her hand back, and the glow receded.

"I—I'm sorry Blake! I wasn't thinking—!"

"Yeah, you weren't." she spat, before wincing. "That was harsh, I'm sorry."

"No, no it's okay." Yang told her, and then closed her eyes.

"This… is this going to happen every time?"

"…I don't know Yang."

"Because I don't… I touch people, all the time," she explained, "I hug Ruby and you and I punch people when I fight and… If I can't do that I'll—"

"Yang, it's okay." Blake said, "Look, the world might have turned us into its personal chew toy, but I don't think it's that unfair. It might not work at all with anyone else."

"Yeah..." She pushed herself off the wall. "Yeah, you're probably right." She smirked, "I'm worried that if I get in Mercury's head I'll puke."

"Heh, fair enough."

Yang drew out a large breath, and then continued, "Seriously, don't worry about the video. The police don't like to realise that stuff if they don't have too. There's enough complaints about how much they violate privacy as is."

Moments after she finished saying this, Blake felt something buzzing against her skin. Rummaging in her pockets, she soon fished out her scroll, buzzing with a small notification.

"Oh hell…"

"What is it?" Yang asked, leaning over to look at her scroll.

Her eyes never leaving the device, Blake responded, "It's something I got to let me know if something about the White Fang, or as of yesterday, the embassy shows up in the news."

Yang nodded.

"And that means…?" Suddenly her eyes widened. "Ooooh crap."

They both glanced around at the rest of the students around them, many already having their scrolls out and watching the video.

Blake's thumb hovered over the play button; she hated the idea of not knowing what it said, not to mention how suspicious it would look, but that didn't change the fact that she really did not want to see it again.

She wanted to enjoy her last moments of anonymity.

"Still think the world has a sense of fairness?"

Without answering her partner, Blake quickly walked down the hallway, mumbling out half-hearted apologies. Initially the crowd proved pliable, and she was able to make significant time, but soon sidesteps became rooted horror at what they were witnessing.

Yang was following her, thankfully deciding to stay quiet. The seriousness of the situation had quickly become apparent to her, so she just followed her lead.

It almost looked like the two of them would escape before anything went wrong when they both heard Cardin next to them saying, "I told you, we should put those animals back where they belong. Can't believe we have so many of them here."

Blake willed herself to keep going, to ignore what he'd said. It was surprisingly difficult. He hadn't said it too her, and she'd heard things far more offensive from him before, yet all she wanted to do was walk over and break both his legs.

Caught up in her own thoughts, Blake didn't notice Yang stomp over to the boy until she said, "You want to repeat that to my face?"

She turned around, and saw Yang less than an inch away from Cardin, her fingers digging into the palms of her hand.

"No, no no no…" she whispered, pushing her way through the crowd. Most were still watching their scrolls, but it wouldn't be long before that changed.

"What's your problem?" Cardin demanded, his posse slowly circling around the two. "I wasn't even talking to you!"

"What's my problem?" Yang grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down.

"My problem is that you're a racist asshole, so you either apologize, or I smash your teeth in, got me?!" she snarled, eyes blood red.

Nearly everyone's attention had shifted to the 'fight'. Ironically, they were too focused on Yang to notice the faunus slipping through.

"You want me to apologize? Huh? That's what you want?" Cardin spat back, pushing himself back up. "To animals? What, should I go tell the cow I'm sorry for eating hamburgers?"

His team laughed, and Blake could hear a few chuckles around her, but the hallway was mostly silent. This was turning into something few of them had much experience with.

"You son of a—" Yang reared her arm back, chambering a round into her suddenly deployed gauntlets. Before she could throw a punch, Blake reached her and grabbed her arm.

"Yang! Drop it!" she told her, then snarled, "He's just a bully. Save it for who matters."

Slowly, her partner's rapid breath and pulse faded. She was still angry, anyone could see that, but she wasn't about to kill anyone.

Blake threw a glare at Cardin, who was smirking like he'd won something.

"Come on," she said, leading Yang out through a gap in the crowd.

They had nearly made it out when Cardin decided to press his luck one more time.

"Yeah, go on! Get a collar on that thing! Fil—"

Whatever he was saying ended the moment the punch connected with his nose. She heard his nose snap—clearly he had forgotten to activate his aura—and he fell to the ground in a heap, clutching his face and moaning in pain.

Blake didn't even realise what just happened, until she heard a surprisingly timid voice say, "Blake?"

She whipped her head around, and found herself facing Yang. Her weapons were armed and ready, but her hands were lowered. Anger had given way to concern.

It was then when Blake felt the sticky, hot liquid seeping between her fingers. She brought her hand closer to her, close enough the see the blood running across her hand and down her arm.

She hit him.

"I…I…" She stammered, backing away from Cardin's slowly rising form. "I didn't mean to…"

Blake turned and ran, the crowd parting easily for the bloodied figure. Yang started to reach out, started to run, but before she could leave, Cardin opened his mouth. Again.

"Dold you. Stubid savage monsder."

Yang's eyes flared stoplight red, and she wheeled around to face him. His aura was active now, working diligently to patch up his nose.

BANG!

She slammed her fist into the top of his skull, firing a shot with her punch. His head smashed into the floor, creating a crater more than three times its size. There was no moaning this time, no movement, just a steadily rising pool of blood.

Yang didn't notice, or didn't care, and stomped away. Anyone too close got to feel firsthand the effects of her fire, wincing at the sudden heat. Breaking through the haze of rage, she briefly wondered if she had been hit by a missile recently and didn't remember it.

That thought provided the crack her rational mind needed to regain control, and the consequences of her actions crashed into her like a freight train.

"Oh crap." She whispered, and then rushed to his side. The hole his head was lying in was rapidly filling with blood, far more than a broken nose should have caused.

"You still alive?" Yang quickly pulled him out of the puddle. The voices of her old teachers reminded her of his probable neck injury, but she figured that drowning in his own blood was a good enough reason to risk it.

"Please be breathing…" She laid her hand over his mouth, and felt him breathe small, short breaths.

Wordlessly, she placed her hands on his chest, right above his heart. She willed him to get up,

"Come on… come on!" she screamed hoarsely, "Get up!"

Someone grabbed her shoulder and tried to pull her away.

"No!" She threw it off. "I need to—"

"What? Finish the job?!"

"I—"

It wasn't working. His forehead was bowed in, the outline of her fist clearly visible on his skin. Blood flowed from the cracks in spurts, soaking her clothes straight to her skin.

Yang stared at her arms, turned red with his blood, in mute horror.

"I—I didn't mean too..."

Weiss had often heard that the Beacon medical center, while equipped with only six or seven beds, could perform any medical operation from an appendectomy to brain surgery.

Something that she could now say she had firsthand evidence to prove.

"Is he…?" Ruby asked, seated just next to her. They were both in an adjoining room, nearby a large glass window. Apparently it was meant for the higher grades, if they wished to specialize in some form of field surgery.

Weiss seriously doubted anyone would wish to see this.

"I don't know," she answered, "I don't have the legal right and, well, there's not really anyone to ask."

Both flinched when they heard a bone saw spin up, and Ruby, and herself, turned green as they heard it tear through his skull.

"They wouldn't be doing that if it wasn't serious."

Weiss didn't answer.

The grinding continued for several minutes, until Weiss asked, "Is Yang coming back?"

Ruby shook her head. "I think she's looking for Blake."

She nearly slapped herself. Blake's involvement in the incident, while it did not spread to the duo as quickly, had still been circulating the school for hours by now. Both had heard it after leaving class, yet Weiss had still managed to forget.

"Is she okay?"

"Blake's fine. She texted me earlier. It said…" She pulled out her scroll, "Don't worry about me, I'm just staying away from the school right now. Tell Yang thanks for being there."

"That's… good."

"At least we know she's okay?" Ruby said, trying to sound optimistic.

Weiss glanced one last time at the OR, regretted it immediately, and sat down next to Ruby.

"Try not to worry too much. I know how it feels to be on this side of the glass."

Ruby snorted. "Yeah, I guess so, huh?" She craned her neck to look through the window.

"It's just… I don't like him. I mean, I really don't," she began, "He's… he's a great, big, stupid bully, but he didn't deserve this!"

"I understand—"
"But then that makes me feel even worse, 'cause now it sounds like Yang's some horrible person when, really, she's not! We both know that!" She was looking at her now, her arms flailing about.

"I get it Ruby, I real—"

"What are we doing, Weiss?"

The question stopped her cold.

"What do you mean?" she asked, honestly confused.

"I mean…" Ruby looked away, and she crossed her arms.

"We came back, and we had this great big plan, we had goals and ideas. Now… now there's an innocent person dead, another guy hurt, stuff just keeps on piling up, and we're not any closer to stopping Cinder or saving Pyrrha and Penny or anything!"

"We've accomplished things." Weiss argued.

"Like what? The papers we got?" Ruby spat, "What did those have on them? Did you actually find anything?"

Weiss scowled, but couldn't respond. Honestly, she hadn't found much. Cinder's name, or at least an alias that looked like was hers had shown up in the papers, but without a reference, it was as useful as a disconnected telephone.

"See? That's it exactly. We change nothing, and people…" she paused, and placed her hand on the glass.

"People get hurt."

Acting on an impulse she'd swear to have never felt before, Weiss clenched Ruby's hand within her own. The relative coolness shocked Ruby into letting out a gasp as she turned around.

"Um, Weiss?" she said, after trying to tug her arm away, "I, uh, can't really move my hand."

"What I'm about to tell you can never be repeated." Weiss said, squeezing her fingers tighter.

"Tell me what?"

"Promise me!" Weiss demanded, her grip tightening to a painful level.

"Ah, ah okay! Okay, I promise!" Ruby yielded, her free hand immediately rubbing her other to restore circulation.

"Good." Weiss said, before closing her eyes and drawing out a breath.

"When I was younger, and I do mean young, like six or seven, my father was in… discussions, with the board members over a decision he wished to make."

"This isn't some story about steaming rolling your way through life, is it?"

"Hush. Anyways, the board didn't want to go through with his plan. They viewed it as too risky, too dangerous. But my father disagreed."

"So he did it anyways."

"So he simply reminded the board members who was in charge, and three days later, the Schnee dust company announced their first actual store."

Ruby blinked.

"Those haven't been around forever?"

Weiss shook her head, her hair batting Ruby's nose.

"No, for years all we did was supply smaller businesses. The company's never sold it direct to anyone but the military before."

"Oh. That's…neat?"

"The point is," Weiss continued, "Is that he knew what he was doing was for the best." She sighed, and opened her eyes.

"You still think stopping Cinder is right?" she asked, blue meeting silver.

"Of course it is. She's a murderer." Ruby crossed her arms, "Why would you even—"

"Then don't get discouraged just because things haven't been going well." Weiss smiled. "You're the one who said we couldn't quit just because we're scared."

"Heh, true." Ruby rested her head on the back of her chair.

"Hey Weiss?"

"Yes Ruby?"

"…Thank you."

They continued to sit like that for a long time, trying to ignore the sounds from behind them. When the door swung open, Weiss quickly pulled her hand away from Ruby's and stood up.

"Excuse me, sir—" she asked, before catching sight of the woman coming through.

"Pardon, Ma'am, can you tell us how he's doing?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Are you his team?"

"Well, no," Weiss admitted, "But his team was removed earlier, so I figured I could tell them how he's doing?"

"His team was the vomit boys, right?"

"Correct."

The doctor let out a sigh, and after peeling off her gloves, said, "He's got… well, he's bleeding inside his head, and that's creating pressure. We've relieved it, but…"

"What? What else is there?"

Looking away, the doctor slowly took in a breath.

"Damnit, I don't deal with the families…"

"We're not—"

"I know, I know." She rolled her eyes. "Inside joke. Point is, he's… well, nothings for sure until we get him to an actual hospital. But… I'd find his team."

"We'll go find them." Weiss turned to Ruby, "Do you know where their dorm is?"

"Yeah."

She had almost left when a hand gripped her shoulder.

"Do it fast."

Meanwhile, several kilometers away, Blake sat in a small chair in a café's balcony seating, sipping a small tea. In her hands was also a small, well-worn book, a brown leather cover adorned with a golden picture of a young girl.

The book, the tea, even the balcony was all an attempt to distract the young huntress from the events that she had experienced a mere hour ago.

So far, it proved unsuccessful.

Sighing, Blake set the book down and flagged a waiter. Her tea had long since grown cold and flavourless, and she could recite her book from memory by this point.

A tall woman, her nose the black of a dog, came up to her and grabbed her unfinished beverage. Blake handed her a few lien, enough to pay her bill and to act as a tip.

"Thank you," she said, smiling. "Um, Miss…?"

"Blake."

"Thank you Miss Blake." Her eyes traveled to her two ears.

"Be careful tonight, alright? There's been a bit of a kerfuffle between, well, us and the humans."

"Isn't there always?" Blake muttered, pushing in her chair. "Thanks for the warning."

"Hey, us faunus have to stick together, right?"

The words, as innocuous as they likely were, struck a chord within Blake's heart. Memories of thousands of armed faunus, all sticking together as they fought against her, and her friends, nestled in their well-worn grooves and refused to leave her.

Without a noise, Blake quickly left the café, pausing only briefly to check for any high speed cars as she crossed the street. She wasn't really sure where she was going, only that she needed to get as far away as possible from that waiter.

Dark looks followed her as she walked, along with quiet insults that anyone else would never have caught. Eventually the crowd thinned, and Blake started to feel like she could actually breathe again.

She had arrived at a park, full of bright green trees and a dark blue lake. There was a few people still walking through, dog-walkers and parents, but for the most part it was nearly empty.

Near the lake was a bench. It seemed fairly clean; Blake couldn't spot any bird droppings or spilt juice, so she sat down and stared into the murky depths in front of her.

Eventually she leaned back, and closed her eyes.

The more she thought about what happened in that hallway, the more she remembered of it. Now she could call up the sound his nose made as it crunched under her fingers, the way it felt to strike out and hit him like she did.

It was horrifying.

Blake had never, ever lost control like that. Not once, even when dealing with Torchwick or Grimm. It was one of the things you learned when training, even with her spotty records.

You can't lose control, you're too powerful, too dangerous to ever risk it. Even Yang—baring a clearly staged incident—had never really hurt anyone that wasn't trying to kill her.

But she did. She lost it, and hurt him. Yes, he was an arrogant, pathetic excuse for a human being, but she still struck out.

Blake opened her eyes and dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand.

Stop it, she told herself, you're just thinking in circles. Yes, she wasn't proud of what she'd done, but it wasn't like he was acting all that great either. Soon enough this would all blow over, and things would go back to normal.

Sighing, Blake got off her bench and walked out of the park. The sun had begun to set, and soon it would night. Bad day aside, she really didn't want to spend the night in some ratty hotel.

She was passing by an alley when she heard, "Get off of me!"

"Not until you start talking!"

The voices came from her right, down the dark, narrow alley. Her hands went to her back to grab her sword, but there was nothing there. She left it at school.

Of course, she had her scroll, but by the time the locker got here, whatever was happening would already have happened.

Blake bit out a sharp sigh.

What happened to the days when she was lucky?

Crouching down and shimming along the wall, she gave a silent thanks that the shadows were large enough to provide her some cover. The alley itself added to this, being dirty, dark, and smelling like a boy's washroom after three years of operation.

"Gah!" Blake heard someone yell, "Son of a—she bit me!"

"Grab her!"

Just as she was rounding the corner, the victim—a young girl, short, with blonde hair and… wings?

Under her arms and connected to her sides was skin, far darker than her normal coloration. Her shirts had only the thinnest threads holding the fabric together, and no sleeves.

Blake was stunned by the sight. Faunus with wings were not exactly unheard of, but they were certainly far rarer than ears or a tail. The closest she had ever seen was a young man with feathers down his arms.

"Alright, now that we've got you still…" one of the boys, the tallest, said, "I think you might want to start answering our questions."

"Go to hell." she spat, before launching a glob of spittle at his face. It splattered just above his eye, and stayed there.

"Very funny," he growled, wiping his forehead with the length of his arm.

Suddenly, his hand went to her neck, and she let out an involuntary whimper.

"You know this won't help you, right?" he whispered, "I'm the only guy right now who can keep you alive, so you better cooperate."

Blake wanted to move in, try and protect the women, but she stayed out of sight. Something about the situation felt… off.

Any choice in the matter was removed when her scroll dinged with an incoming text. The group, four in total, minus the girl, turned to her.

Tall boy—the one performing the interrogation—was the first to speak up, "You have got to be kidding me."

Blake stepped forward, trying to look as intimidating as she could. Although she was outnumbered and weaponless, none of her opponents looked to have training comparable to hers. Odds were they knew how to throw a punch, if the girl's bruises were any indication.

"This is none of your business!" Tall boy yelled, "Leave!"

Crossing her arms and attempting to look angry, Blake couldn't help but snort.

"You do realise I'm a huntress? This is literally my job," she said slowly, like one would talk to a young child.

He snorted. "Yeah, and I'm a millionaire."

Blake glared at the boy, inwardly grinning at his shaking hands.

"I won't ask twice; let her go." she demanded, lifting her arms into a boxing stance. Although she had spent most of her time training with her swords, she still knew how to throw a punch.

"Make us," One of the younger boys mocked, earning him an elbow from Tall Boy.

"Do you want her to kill us all?" He whispered, only briefly taking his eyes off her.

The movement of his arm, on the other hand, proved to be his downfall. The winged girl got her arm free and swung at him with a wild punch. Drops of spit flew off and landed on the nearby walls, followed shortly by the boy himself when the girl lifted herself off the ground to kick him with both legs.

Blake, muttering curses under her breath, leapt into the fray. Her elbow connected with someone's stomach, hard enough for her to feel his breath wash over her skin.

Gripping his hair hard enough to turn her knuckles white, Blake rammed the young boy into the wall with a loud CRACK! Thankfully for him and her conscious, he appeared only dazed. A well planted foot to the jaw later, and while he was still conscious, he wouldn't be moving anytime soon.

A much louder noise drew her attention to the other girl, and Blake found her initial assessment of her changing rapidly.

In what had to be the oddest fighting style she'd ever seen—somehow beating out Flynt's and Neon's—the girl kept both her arms tucked in to her sides, looking like she was afraid of getting germs on her hands.

Her feet and legs, however, were moving fast enough to blur, connecting with her opponents legs, leaping off, landing on the wall and rocketing herself back into the fight.

It was honestly a dizzying spectacle. The boys, all continued to rush her, either out of some misplaced macho fever, or in the vain hope that they could once again overwhelm her through numbers.

One of them, somehow deciding that she was a decent target, had picked up a pipe and began to swing it.

Blake stopped the pipe with her arm, the metal bending around her aura. The kid—who couldn't be any older than twelve—looked at the pipe, looked at her, and then promptly realised who he was fighting and decided to run for his life.

After Tall Boy got thrown into a wall by the girl, he seemed to agree.

"Forget it! Let's go!" He pointed at her as he and his cronies ran off, "You'll regret this!"

The alley now clear of their presence, Blake got a chance to take stock of her injures. Although she never took a hit, her knuckles were sore and lightly bruised. She wiggled her fingers several times, ensuring that there was no permanent damage done.

"You okay?" she asked the girl, pulling her to her feet.

She grinned and shook her hand vigorously.

"Yeah! Yeah I'm good!" she said, her voice high pitched and airy. "Thank you so much, you probably saved my life and I can't express how much I—"

"Don't worry about it," Blake said quickly, "Seriously, it's nothing."

The girl's mouth dropped, and her eyes bugged out.

"Nothing? They coulda killed me, or raped me or—"

Blake shrugged. Whoever those people were, they didn't look like killers or rapists.

The girl put her hands on her hips and stared at the ground, while biting her lip.

"Well," she said after a moment, "I disagree with that. Come on, I know a place that's got the best donuts you'll ever taste." She grabbed her arms and started to pull her out of the alley.

"Wait!" Blake said, ripping her arms away, "I'm not going to go have coffee with you, I don't even know your name!"

She giggled.

"No, no you wouldn't, would you?" she said, "I'm Violacciocca."

Blake blinked.

"Um… nice to meet you… Viola-choka? Socka?"

She groaned, and slapped her forehead.

"Just… call me Viola."

"Alright… Viola. It's nice to meet you."

"And you too. Now, come on…" She cupped her ear. "What's yours?"

Blake let out a sigh, and closed her eyes.

"It's Blake," she eventually said.

"Blake, Blake Blake Blakeity Blake." Viola cupped her chin.

"I like it!"

"Good to know."

"Well then Blake." Viola grabbed her hands, much more gentle this time.

"I do believe I promised you a donut?"

Viola led her to a nearby café, far smaller and more homely than the one she had left a scant hour ago. Blake expressed some concern over how close they were to where she got jumped, but Viola laughed it off.

"The owners here are pretty hard-core," she explained, "NAobody want to mess with them."

AShe had bought her a large box of donuts, along with two steaming cups of coffee. Although Blake wasn't a huge fan of the bitter tasting beverage, she sipped at it anyways.

"So…" Blake began, setting down her coffee, "What brings you to Vale?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm a reporter. See?" She pulled out a press badge.

"Cool. What are you writing about?" Blake asked, grabbing a donut from the box.

"Oh, I don't write stuff, I take pictures." She pulled out a small camera from her pocket. "Say cheese!"

Blake raised an arm to block the shot, but before she could cover her face the flash went off, nearly blinding her.

"I'm sorry!" She quickly put the camera away. "I didn't realise—I forget to turn the flash off, I'm so sorry—!"

"Forget it," Blake said, blinking rapidly as her vision returned.

Viola looked like she was about to say something, but the ringing of the door cut her off.

Blake turned to look at whoever had entered. It was a man and a young girl, who both ordered a hot chocolate.

When she turned back, Viola had put the camera away.

"You said you were a huntress, right?" She asked, sipping her coffee.

Blake took a moment to respond as she forced her own brew down.

"In training," she replied, "I'Am going to Beacon. Which reminds me…" S he glanced at the clock hanging just above the cashier.

"I should be heading back."

She moved to get up, but Viola grabbed her arm and all but forced her to sit.

"It's only eight!" she said, "And there is no way I'm finishing all these by myself." S he gestured to the still nearly full box.

"…Fine." Blake acquiesced, "But I really can't stay much longer."

"That's okay. I just want to get to know you a bit more."

"Alright, ask away." Blake picked up a donut and took a bite out of it. True to Viola's word, the frosted treat was one of the best she had ever tasted, although she felt like it was not the best.

"…So you're a cat faunus?" she asked curiously, despite the rhetorical nature of such a question.

Blake wiggled her ears as an answer.

"Right, right, sorry."

She pinched the bridge of her nose.

Blake could just barely hear her whisper, "That was the stupidest…" before she moved her hand.

"That means you've got good hearing, right?"

Swallowing her donut, Blake said, "Yeah, I do. It's how I found you."

Viola blinked several times.

"Wow, that's—that's really cool." She lifted her arms, spreading out her wings to their full length. "All I've got are these dumb things."

"I don't think I've ever seen wings before."

"Yeah, they're really rare. Mine are bat."

"Bats are cool."

Viola snorted, and lowered her arms.

"Yeah, but I got the least useful part," she said, drinking more of her coffee.

"I wish I had the ears or something; hell, I'd take the fur. At least it would keep me warmer than these do."

"What do they have to do with temperature?" Blake asked. In response, Viola got up and came to her side, nearly jamming a part of her wing in her face.

"Do you see the veins?"

"Um, sure, along with your pores."

"Oh, sorry." Not looking apologetic in the slightest, Viola moved back to her seat.

"Anyways, all that blood is moving through my wings, but they're really thin and really big, so all the heat just seeps out," she explained, " Plus, if I get hurt there, I'll probably bleed to death in seconds."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. Nice in the summers though, 'cause then I can spread them out and I'm in heaven." A blissful look spread over her face.

"Yeah, I guess it would…" Blake said, before looking at the clock.

"Why are you out this late anyways?" Viola asked, "I'm glad that you were, but you seem pretty worried about the time."

Blake drew out a sigh, clasping her hands together.

"At the school, I… There was this boy."

"Ah…" Viola's eyebrows wiggled. "What happen, he get you pregnant?"

"What? No! No!" Blake sputtered, "God, that's—that's gross!"

"Hey, don't knock the sausage," Viola said, somehow managing to keep a straight face until after she finished. Then she burst into laughter at Blake's complete and utter shock.

"I don't mean it like that—I like boys! Really!" Blake tried to protest even as Viola kept laughing. Her body shook with each breath, snorts coming as fast as the giggles. Before long she had to set her mug down to avoid spilling it.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, it's just… your face," she said after her laughs had subsided, "You looked like I just told you that you had cancer or something."

"Yeah, glad you enjoyed yourself," Blake muttered.

"So, uh, what did happen?"

It took her a few minutes to respond.

"Long story short: he called me some rude names, I flipped, hit him, and then left."

Viola's expression grew uncomfortably dark.

"Human?"

Blake nodded.

"Got what he deserved then," she said, "Arrogant pricks, always thinking they can do whatever the hell they want."

Blake's grip tightened on her coffee mug, and she leaned forward with a scowl etched on her lips.

"Do you have a problem with humans?" she asked, glaring Viola dead-straight in the eye.

She scoffed. "Who doesn't? They attack us, they abuse us, and they won't hire us. Why wouldn't I hate humans?"

The words themselves expressed a sentiment Blake shared not too long ago. Humans were the enemy, they suppressed her, hated her, and would kill her if they got the chance.

Everyone she knew growing up had this viewpoint, and while growing up in the White Fang probably skewed the statistics, she hadn't exactly heard many contrasting opinions.

Then she got out, and realised not only was that wrong, but it was the other way around as well. Perhaps less prevalent—irony to end all irony—but still a commonly held belief.

"I've met a lot of humans," Blake began, sipping slowly, "And yeah, there's some that are pricks, but there's at least some that aren't."

Viola crossed her arms.

"Really then? Name one," she said.

Blake smirked. A part of her had been waiting to say this for the whole week.

"Weiss Schnee."

The effect her words had on her was immediate and obvious. Her arms fell to her sides, her face slipped into a look of shock, and she actually seemed to shrink in her chair.

"You know her?!" she shrieked. "How in the flipping… How?"

"It's a long story."

"Yeah, I guess it would be, wouldn't it?!"

Viola leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful look on her face.

"You're something else, you know that?"

Blake didn't respond, instead checking the time.

"Well, I really need to get moving." She pushed in her chair, catching sight of the still nearly full box of donuts.

"Sorry about the food. It's great! I'm just not hungry right now."

Viola waved her arm.

"Don't worry about it." tapped her chin.

"Hey, Beacon puts you in a team, right?" she asked.

"Yes…?"

Viola picked up the box of donuts and handed it to her.

"Here. Someone should probably get to enjoy these."

Blake grinned as she took the box. Many of the donuts were chocolate flavoured, something that would defiantly appeal to her team leader.

"Thank you," she told Viola.

"Hey, I'm just paying back the person who saved my life."

Turning to leave, Blake was almost out the door when Viola shouted, "Wait a minute!"

Blake turned around to see her franticily writing something on a piece of paper.

"Here," she said, sticking the slip into her pocket, "I'd—I really want to see you again, so there's my number."

"Um, thanks."

Viola looked away, a blush spreading across her skin.

"And ah…" she said.

Then she kissed her cheek.

"See you later?" she asked once she had pulled away. It took Blake nearly a minute to respond.

"Um, sure, I'll… call. I will call about it."

Viola giggled, and patted her on the shoulder.

Then, with a second kiss, she left. Blake continued to stand there, absently raising a hand to brush against the skin that she had touched.

Apparently, she liked girls.

Moments after leaving the café, Viola headed down the side alley. Once she was far enough away that Blake couldn't hear her—quite a walk—she pulled out her scroll and tapped in a familiar number.

"Come on, come on, pick up." She paced back and forth, kicking at a stone. The sun had long since set, and the night air leeched at her exposed skin.

"You've reached 555-498-3892, please leave a message."

Letting out a sigh, Viola started to speak.

"Hey sweetheart, it's me. I'm sorry I'm late, I got held up by some idiots."

A police siren in the distance made her jump.

"Look," she continued, "A girl named Blake 'saved' me. I took her out and bought her some food, and I think she has a way to Weiss Schnee. I know it's not my goal, but I thought I'd let you know.

"Anyhow, I'm on my way over now, so I'll see you in a few minutes."

She moved to put her phone away, but paused. Then she brought it back up.

"And please start answering your phone. I'm getting tired of always talking to a machine."

She put her scroll away, and slipped into the cover of the night.