Ruby fiddled with her fingernails impatiently as she waited for the order to arrive at their table. Thumbing through documents on his scroll, Roman sat with one arm crossed over his chest and tucked under the opposite elbow. His eyes drifted upward, cast in their defiant green shade.

"Can you stop fidgeting?" He said, breaking the silence.

His words snapped Ruby out of her reverie. "What?"

He pointed his scroll to her hands, now folded on the table. "That."

Ruby looked down. "Was I doing something."

"Whatever. Forget it," he muttered, returning to his screen.

Truthfully, Ruby was not surprised. She had been antsy since they had arrived. Such a semblance of normal life was a long-lost memory, and here she was once again, having a casual meal in a restaurant. Granted, the situation itself was peculiar, given that the man sitting across from her and offering to pay for her meal was the wanted criminal who just tortured her into telling him who she really was.

The people, the noises. Pans clanging in the kitchen. Waitress's heels clicking across the tile. Lively conversation. Ruby did not trust any of it, as if this reality would show itself to be an illusion once she let her guard down. One idea occurred to her: this was some sort of test, a show of a normal life to throw her off. Ruby wanted to fall back into her old patterns, relaxing and truly unwinding from all the stress. However, she could not—none of it would last. In one year's time, all of it would go up in flames, riots flooding the streets and terrorism rampant. Friends would die, family fall apart, and even Ozpin, the strongest of them all, would begin to fear that the end was near. The images made Ruby feel fragmented in her core, the very drive that pursued justice crumbling in the prospect of demise.

The universe was spitting in her face, hinging the fate of the world on the most unreliable person who could have ever been in this position. With a weary gloom, she realized that this was all she had left: hope.

A cheery-eyed waitress approached their table with two plates adorning the arms of a pressed shirt rolled up to the elbows. "Here's your order, ma'am, hash browns and waffles."

"Thank you." Ruby forced a smile, watching as the waitress walked away with a carefree sway of her hips.

Ruby stuck a fork in her food. "I think I need to sleep."

"You can sleep on my couch," Roman remarked, not taking his eyes away from his scroll.

"I can sleep on my bed."

Groaning, Roman pushed a hand through his hair. "I want you somewhere I can keep an eye on you."

"You already know where I live," Ruby protested. "I just want to be alone."

Roman finally looked up at her, placing his scroll face down on the table. "Why?"

"I have a lot to think about."

Roman took a sip of his water. "Like what?"

"A game plan. And personal stuff," she said, muttering her second statement.

"Well, I can't help you with the personal stuff, but I can help you with a plan of action." Roman pocketed his scroll and waved a waitress over to their table. "Can we get a to-go box for these?" Roman reached for his wallet.

"Sure!" She responded. "Let me get your check."

As soon as she walked away, Ruby spoke again. "I can handle it on my own."

"First of all, I'm a criminal mastermind, remember?" Roman extracted a credit card, placing it on the table. "Say what you want about my combat skills, but I happen to be quite the credible source for underground information, and I earned my reputation."

Ruby shot him a spiteful look. "Yeah, no kidding."

"And second, it's my future."

"Yeah, but you would hardly be any help because you don't know what happens."

"There is a painfully simple solution to that."

The waitress returned, check and Styrofoam boxes in hand. Roman handed her his card. "Thank you." He smiled, returning his gaze to Ruby. "You're going to need a fresh set of eyes."

"Fine, then," Ruby scowled. "Can we at least do it tomorrow, then?" Ruby crossed her arms, guarded. "I need some time tonight to rest and recharge."

"I have an idea," he suggested. "Why don't I come back with you, you can rest in your shitty bed, and I can keep an eye on you."

"Better than you having me sleep on your—wait, why do you need to keep an eye on me?"

Roman gave no response, reaching across the table to grab her plate and dumb the contents inside a box.

"You still don't trust me, do you?" Ruby winced.

"What makes you think I ever did?"


The taxi ride back was silent. Roman ignored the driver's requests to make conversation, but he still tipped him generously, handing him thirty lien when the meter only reached fifteen.

Ruby thanked him and stepped out, hitting her knee on the door. She winced, but quickly stood up to hide it from Roman, who met her eyes when she looked back at him on the other side of the car. He chuckled at her and shook his head.

"Shut up," she said.

"I didn't say anything," he defended.

Ruby clenched her fingers around her scroll. "Could you be less annoying, please?" Ruby walked up to the door to her building, removing the scroll from her pocket and holding it over the scanner. When the light glowed green, she pulled the door open, holding it for Roman.

He followed and walked behind her up the two flights of stairs leading to her apartment. "I forgot to ask something. How did you find this place?"

"Your former group used it for something two years from now. I figured it would be unoccupied now."

"Slick," he said. "I was surprised to find living space in a storage building."

"Not really meant for living," she said. "I have it rented out for the next four months. After that, I don't know."

"That still leaves you six months shy of my death."

"I was planning on getting Ozpin's help, anyways."

"Are you sure that's the best idea?" he asked.

Ruby kept her chin down as she slid her key into the lock. "There's a lot you don't know about him."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Well, I'm not going to tell you," she said.

"Yeah? And why's that?"

Ruby turned on her heel, defining her point with a point heel. "You're still a bad person. For all I know, you could just run off to your buddies and tell them everything you manage to pry out of me."

Roman rolled his eyes. "If what you say is true, they betrayed me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ruby pushed the door open, practically throwing herself inside.

"That warehouse. You're saying you never saw anyone else there but me and a couple of cronies?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"That's a contingency," he answered. "The plan was in the works to take some of you guys out. And if none of those other bastards showed up, they just meant to take me out, which means they may already be planning against me."

"You know, you could be doing the same thing you accused me of," she said. "Telling me something that'll get me to trust you."

He laughed. "That's true."

Ruby stared at him, mouth agape. "You're not going to even try to defend yourself?"

He shrugged.

"Ugh." Ruby pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Both of us can say whatever we want. That doesn't change the fact that you apparently killed me."

"Yeah, and I had reason to!" she shouted.

"My point exactly."

Ruby's eyes softened. She turned away, facing the one-room apartment she was supposed to call home. Despite everything else he has told her, Roman had a point. She could hardly trust him; he could hardly trust her. "This is too difficult a relationship."

"I'm a wanted fugitive. I deal with these kinds of relationships all the time."

"Yeah, but I haven't. And you know these circumstances are different," she said.

"They really aren't," he sighed. "Do you have any liquor?"

"No," she spat, disgust layered in her voice. "I don't even have an ID yet, and even if I did, I wouldn't have it."

"I have a guy for that. I'll put you in contact."

"I don't need a guy for booze," she said.

"Cute. Fake IDs." Roman sauntered over to the couch and fell across the cushions. "You just need fingerprints and a passport photo."


I wish I could make this longer, but my stupid head hurts too much to let me function. Owwie.