Rolling onto her back, Yang stared up at the dimly lit ceiling of her bedroom and exhaled into the quiet of the early morning. She'd been awake for a while, only now was she finally admitting defeat. Another night of restless sleep.
She knew that she needed to find a way to sleep better—knew that it wasn't good for her to go with as little rest as she did each day.
Even when she tried to go to bed early, she'd lay there for hours in frustration as her mind refused to quiet down. Nights would drag on for so long, even when she'd fall asleep, she would wake up and only an hour would have passed. Each night was a battle—sometimes she would stop trying and stay up playing video games or cleaning. Anything to distract her from the voice telling her that she was not okay.
Morning would come, it always came and when she was younger, morning was her favorite time, another new day to attack, filled with adventure and the unpredictable mystery of life.
The life of a huntress carried so much risk, so little reward but the thrill of it all was what drove her. She wanted to take care of those who couldn't take care of themselves and she wanted to look damn good doing it.
Now her life carried almost no risk, no thrills or adventure. Days were long and empty, filled with mundane and safe tasks. The only shake up to her routine was when she needed to go grocery shopping.
Yang didn't care for news of the world beyond Patch. She didn't want to hear about Beacon being rebuilt or the effort to better protect the innocent from the Grimm. There was a time when she would have wanted to be a part of that battle. Now she just wanted to be as far away from it as possible.
Knowing her mind would never stop moving, she sat up and was immediately met with the sight of a blanket hanging over the mirror across the room. She'd covered it the first day she moved into her dad's guest home. The truth was that she didn't want to know why there was a mirror at the perfect angle to the bed of the small cabin by the lake. Her mind suddenly filling with terrible thoughts of the horrible things that might have been done here by she and Ruby's parents.
Needless to say, the first thing she did was move her own bed down here. She was not about to sleep on anything that had been shared by her father and the two women he'd had children with.
Besides, Yang didn't need a mirror to know how she probably looked. Her hair felt matted and tangled down her back, she could feel the burning behind her, certainly, bloodshot eyes and the last thing she needed was to see the tiny stump on her right shoulder.
She would be reminded of that least a dozen times today already, no need to start this early.
After spending another ten minutes trying to find the strength to get out of bed, Yang rose to her feet and shuffled into the bathroom. This mirror was, unfortunately, staring right back at her.
She stared into the judgmental, lilac eyes she saw and scowled. "It's your own fault you're not sleeping." She muttered before taking out her toothbrush. "Dumbass." She said before going through her usual morning routine.
Once she finished with that and put a shirt on, Yang moved into the kitchen just as the sun was finally starting to come up. She needed food to soak up the sins of the night before, her cupboards were mostly bare but she managed to come across a half full box of pancake mix to go with the four eggs she had left.
Who knew that cooking eggs and pancakes with one hand could be so damn difficult.
Years of practice, with a lot of trial and error, had trained her at how to be as efficient as possible with one arm. Sure she'd still have the occasional moment where she'd go to use her right arm for something only to flail her shoulder aimless forward, but that happened less and less with each passing year.
Balance had been surprisingly tricky, it took her weeks to learn how to walk upright again without leaning or stumbling. Everything was so slow and such an adjustment that the idea of fighting as she had before never really felt reachable to her. After a while, she just wanted to be able to properly wash all of her hair with just one hand.
Yang turned on the stereo to block out the internal noise, letting the music drown out a painfully quiet morning as she tried her best to perk up.
Her body swayed to the rhythm of the music and she sang along with the parts she remembered. Yang was determined to make this a good day. The last few months had been particularly hard, given her last conversation with Ruby, she needed a good day.
As her pancakes continued to cook and her eggs lay waiting to be devoured, Yang checked her scroll for the third time that morning. Of course, it was as empty as it had been an hour ago, no new messages.
Yang struggled talking to Ruby, but that didn't mean she stopped caring. So many of her thoughts were of her little sister and Yang knew that whatever she was doing was dangerous. The gap between calls had grown each time. When Ruby first called, it was two weeks after she'd ran, of course Ruby had made Yang promise not to let dad come after her. She'd agreed and had been prepared to argue with her dad not to go, that Ruby would be okay. However, her dad never even considered going after her. It upset Yang at first. How could he not care? She pondered over it for days, wondering why he hadn't wanted to tear the world apart to find his little girl.
Then when she confronted him on it, he told her a truth that changed everything.
"I don't want to leave you here alone, Yang. You need someone to take care of you."
That was the last day Yang spent in her room. She might not have been able to fight or be of any real use to anyone, but she was not going to wilt away in a bedroom and drag her dad down with her.
So she eventually climbed out of bed and started trying. Every day was filled with learning how to live, trying to get some strength back and working to manage her disability. As time passed, she was comfortable enough to move to the cabin below. It was a small victory, but being able to live on her own was important. Plus, it was easier to sink into depression in privacy than worry about the guilty looks from her dad.
The one trouble thing was that, eventually, Ruby stopped calling from her own scroll. In fact Yang was pretty sure Ruby didn't even carry one anymore. As time passed, their conversations became shorter and shorter. Ruby became more secretive about telling Yang what she was doing or where she was located. Their last conversation had been awkward and forced, almost as if Ruby was calling out of responsibility, not because she wanted to talk to her sister.
Yang tried not to take it personally, she wasn't the best company anymore. Why wouldn't Ruby try and get away from her?
Everyone else did.
Not today, Yang.
"Not today!" She shouted into the emptiness of her home before flipping her pancakes and turning up her music.
She ate slowly and watched the sunrise from the window of her kitchen. It was going to be another beautiful day, the perfect day to spend outside. The one thing Yang hadn't lost in her time away from the moving world was the desire to work. She loved to push herself, she needed her muscles to burn at the end of each day, even if she was missing a few of them. She'd done most of the renovations on this place that she could on her own. Her dad would help with those she couldn't and once she settled in, she started to work on the garden and went about making her own gym in the garage.
That was hard day, when she finally committed to turning the garage into a gym because she couldn't ride her motorcycle anymore. As badly as she wanted to, there was no way she could control it with just one arm and it was taking up the space she wanted to use for more productive things. So she left her bike outside to suffer through the elements. The last real trace of the girl she used to be was abandoned that day.
After the fall of Beacon, Yang cried a lot. She hated it, hated every tear that fell and every sob she couldn't hold in. That day had broken her and she'd worked her ass off trying to put it all back together.
Still, the day she left her bike out in the cold because it wasn't a part of her life anymore, that was one of the hardest days of her life.
Once she finished eating and went through the chore of taking a shower and getting dressed, she prepared for a day outside with a full watering can between her teeth. She'd become quite proficient at carrying things in her mouth to free up her hand.
The sun hit her back as she stepped outside in a backpedal and closed the door behind her.
When she turned around, Yang thought for a moment that she was still sleeping and this was all a dream.
In front of her stood a slightly older, slightly taller and excessively more beautiful Blake Belladonna. The whole moment felt like something out of a movie. The wind picked up and made her long, dark hair fluttered. This, of course, drew Yang's eyes up to the two ears atop her head, free from any cover and out for anyone to see. Her eyes, those amber eyes that had haunted Yang for years looked up at her with something akin to sympathy and joy. She was so beautiful and she was here, it had to be a dream. Her body seemed to turn to goo, she wondered how she even managed to stay upright.
BANG!
Yang jumped, but not nearly as much as Blake, when the watering can hit the hardwood floor beneath her. She looked down at it for a moment and realized she wasn't sleeping. This was real, Blake was here, after five years Blake had shown up at her door.
Blake had come back.
After five years of no contact, no concern and no time for the girl who would have done anything for her.
She felt something she hadn't in forever, a familiar fire burned through her belly and when she looked up at Blake again, she saw red.
"What the hell are you doing here?" She spat angrily, her fist balling at her side and for a moment, she thought about stepping down towards the girl and punching her in the mouth.
The image alone frightened her, and though the fury inside didn't go away, she opened her hand. She would never strike Blake, as mad as she was, she would never ever lay a hand on her.
That didn't mean she couldn't give her an earful.
"Doesn't that hurt?" Blake's voice startled her, it was so different than she remembered it from her dreams. As if the time apart had tainted it in her own mind. To hear it again, so soft and controlled; Yang had to remind herself how angry she was.
"What?!" She cried with indignation.
"Your teeth?" Blake gestured towards the bucket.
Oh…oh we're doing this! "Yeah well, in case you didn't notice. I only have one hand!"
Yang had noticed how hard Blake was trying not to look at her disfigurement.
Blake seemed to unsettle a little, a rare sight. However, she recovered a moment later and met Yang's eyes again. "Couldn't you put your arm through the holster, like a grocery basket?"
Suddenly Yang's anger turned from seeing Blake to realizing that she'd been carrying that stupid can between her teeth for years for no damn reason at all. "I—I—you—what are you doing here?!"
"Yang," Blake sighed as she cast her head down. "I'm here to see you."
The anger went away at the sadness of Blake's voice. Suddenly she was breaking, it was all coming back to her. The nights spent wondering why Blake abandoned her. Why she was never good enough for anyone. Now that she was broken who would want her? Nobody wanted her when she was whole, when she was powerful. She tried so hard to be the best, to be there for everyone. She would have died for them all and when she needed help they all left her.
In a fit of emotion, Yang kicked the watering can with all she had. It flew past Blake in an instant, nowhere near hitting her, and bounced across the dirt road behind her—water splashing all along the ground.
Yang was so emotionally torn, a part of her wanted to turn around and run inside—as far away from Blake as possible. It took her so long to forget about Blake, or at least to be able to pretend she'd forgotten. Now she was here and when Yang looked at her and saw how uneasy she was at the outburst, her walls started to crumble.
"Why are you here?" She asked again, her voice much weaker than before.
Blake took a deep breath, her ears lying flat, almost guilty atop her head. "I'm…here for you."
Yang looked away furiously, holding back her emotions as best she could. "You're about five years too late."
"I'm sorry I left like I did."
"That doesn't make it better, Blake."
She heard Blake sigh. "I know…I was…hurt and scared and it was all too much, you know?"
"You were scared?" Yang rolled her eyes before holding up her stump. "I lost my arm, Blake! I woke up in my bed, alone, without my arm and you were scared?!" She felt the tears falling down her cheeks and wanted to turn around and run. She wasn't supposed to cry again. She'd told herself she wouldn't. "I needed you." Her voice barely carried the distance between them as it all fell apart.
She gave up and finally sat down on the porch, her flowers and the watering can had been long forgotten. Instead, Yang buried her head between her knees and took slow breaths to calm herself down
The sound of approaching footsteps alerted her that Blake was coming towards her but Yang didn't care. She wasn't going to yell anymore. It would only bring up more pain. She hated being like this, hated being weak. Physically, emotionally, she didn't even know who she was at this point. Just another victim.
Blake sat down next to her and Yang felt a hesitant arm touch her back. She took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of her former partner was like a trip through a time machine. Suddenly she felt like she was back at Beacon, parked next to Blake in the library reading a book over her shoulder and smirking every time they crossed glances in the silence.
When she looked up, Blake was there and staring back at her. Yang didn't have it in her to give a smirk like before, but she didn't tell Blake to leave either.
"I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, Yang." Blake started and Yang could hear the sadness in her voice. It was odd to see Blake's ears out so freely, they were almost as expressive as her eyes. "But leaving you…was the biggest."
There were a thousand questions dancing in Yang's mind. She was certain that this was only the beginning of the emotional ride the rest of her day would bring. She didn't forgive Blake, but she couldn't deny how nice it was to have her here. It was too much, she needed answers.
"Blake," Yang stared into her eyes and pleaded for the truth. "I don't know why you left me. Maybe I'm scared of the answer. But…why are you here now?"
She felt Blake's hand still on her back, her amber eyes softened as she sighed.
"To make up for leaving—to…be here for you. I've put my life in order now and...I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."
Yang felt the fire building inside of her again. She stood up in a flurry, her one arm not enough to keep her balanced as she stumbled slightly before using the railing to pull up the rest of the way.
"Get out." Yang growled, not allowing herself to look at Blake. She knew if she did she'd say something she would regret.
"Yang, please." Blake's pleading voice broke her heart, which only upset her more.
"No!" She screamed, her voice echoing off the mountains. "I am not a charity case for you, Blake. You don't get to decide that you're ready to be here for me." Yang couldn't stop herself, she turned around and glowered down at the Faunus. "Leave, Blake. That's what you do best, isn't it?"
Before Blake had a chance to say anything in her own defense, Yang stormed into her house and locked the door. She didn't make it two steps inside before the tears came.
Yangsty I know. Thoughts?