Week five of detention with Branwen passed quietly, with no major incidents to speak of, but week six started with a bang- literally.
Lumi dropped to the floor, heart in her throat, hand that was previously on the door handle cupped around her ears in protection. Loud cursing immediately followed. She looked left down the empty fluorescent lit hall, then right, then pushed open the door again and peeked her head into the workshop.
Nine tall, metal worktables in a staggered grid formation; hip high stools with smears of grease, oil and paint along the legs; her teacher clutching his bleeding hand and glaring at a pile of what looked like it used to be a sword.
Well that explained that. She hesitantly let herself in, hands only shaking a little as she crossed the class to her hunched over and violently cursing teacher.
"Shit, fuck, ah, hey kid," Branwen shot her a pained grin that looked more like a grimace. "How's your day goin'?"
"It's- Are you- do you need help?" Her half curled hands (now cast free for two weeks!) hovered mid-air. Her eyes darted about, taking in the details of the scene- blood and oil spilled across his desk, soaked into rags and some poor student's work; bits of metal and gears and the faint scent of smoke.
"Nah, this is just a scratch. I'll be fine with a bandaid," he tried to wave her off, but his inured hand immediately began gushing when he lifted pressure off it.
Pretty big bandaid, she thought wryly.
"I know Aura healing, Mr. Branwen," her hovering hands straightened out as they flickered alight.
"That's…" he trailed off, staring at her hands which glowed white. "Huh."
Lumi shifted in place and let one hand return to normal. "Or I can get the school nurse, if you'd like?"
His nose wrinkled in distaste. "I'll pass on Piper's tender love and care. You any good at healing?"
She shrugged. "For something like this, yeah."
Lumi held out her non-glowing hand and gestured for his injured one. Qrow obliged but kept a careful eye on the whole process. Aura healing wasn't an obscure skill, and anyone with an activated Aura could theoretically learn it, but it was difficult and required more control and focus than the average person really cared to dedicate.
To perfect it, you needed to practice on actual wounds (though cadavers and hunks of flesh would work too) usually under some sort of stress. Also, at least one year of experience (in some form) to be allowed to work on live patients.
Random students he'd had over the years had boasted the same, and few had actually lived up to the claim when tested, but nothing terrible would happen if she was as amateur as they had been. Worst case scenario, his own (depleted) Aura would surge and block hers which stung but didn't do anything else. Besides, the experience would be good for her.
All thoughts of inadequacy vanished when her aura wrapped around his hand in a soothing cocoon, coaxing his own to seep into the bloody gash. The hand went numb, though he could feel (and see) her lightly pry open the wound to check for debris. She found none and let her aura sink into the skin to encourage the blood to clot.
"It'll stay numb for about six minutes, without adding more aura," she spoke to his wounded appendage. "You should wash it before I do much else."
He nodded. "Got it, kid."
Lumi raised from her half-bent position and let her aura settle. While her teacher cleaned up, she set her bag and sweater down. She had a bit of blood on her fingers and left palm, but thankfully none of it got onto her clothes. She dragged one of the stools beside her teacher's chair and quickly washed her own hands before she sat.
When Branwen was ready, he plopped his injured hand in her lap, smelling strongly of whiskey (did he disinfect his hand, drink it, or both?). She called her aura back to her right hand and set to healing. Nine minutes later, the entire cut had scabbed over and a thin line of new, pink flesh had grown beneath. The light burn that covered the tips of his fingers had healed completely, which she was mildly proud of.
"It's best not to heal minor things all the way," she murmured, purple eyes unfocused even as she lifted her head to speak to him. "A snug wrap around your hand will be fine."
"Hm, thanks," he flexed his fingers slowly. "So how'd you get so good at healing?"
Her legs twitched beneath his half-numb forearm. "Aura control comes easy to me."
Wow, a suspicious and vague response from Hazelwood; he'd never gotten one of those from her before.
"Mhmm," he hummed and pulled away from his quiet little student. "It's a handy skill to have."
She nodded, not looking at him, and got up. "Do you mind if I ask what happened?"
"I was working on a protoype," he said instead of the smart alec remark that immediately jumped to his mind. "And it malfunctioned… somehow."
He didn't want to say it was his shitty semblance's fault, but well, it was probably his shitty semblance's fault.
"That's unlucky," Lumi gathered her things and put the stool back in place.
She had no idea.
"Yup," he popped the last letter.
Silence took the place of conversation as teacher and student mutually ignored each other to work on their own things. Near the end of the hour, Qrow brought up how difficult Aura healing was, especially in the heat of battle or just after because of the adrenaline rush. Lumi smiled and inclined her head, murmured something about how little books were out there when it came to that field.
That was it.
Qrow was far too tired from his weekend mission from Ozpin to scrape up more a damn to give, to question why a teenager (sixteen year old? she was about ready to graduate) would not only know about Aura healing, but be able to prove it without activating the body's natural response to another's soul brushing up against it and directing it.
The students he'd seen use or attempt to use the skill were either know-it-all overachievers trying to show off just how smart and dedicated they were, or soft-hearted Healers-in-training (with a hint of adrenaline junkie lurking just behind their gentle smiles) trying to soothe away aches and yank people away from the edge of death.
It was probably worrisome when contextualized by her history, but that was a worry for tomorrow, when his bones didn't hurt quite so much and his head didn't feel so light.
Tuesday, thankfully, went more like last week than it did like Monday. Lumi walked in, set down her stuff, snagged a stack of ungraded papers (weapon evaluation forms, this time), and made small talk with Branwen for a while as they worked.
The topic of the day was: still food (for the second or third week in a row).
More specifically, the best places to eat in Mistral, the city where the owners were just as likely to literally rob you as they were to do the metaphorical same by charging ridiculous prices for everything. (Qrow wasn't trying to say it was a kingdom of liars and thieves, but what other reason would compel a restaurant owner decked out in more jewels than sense with the need to charge extra for utensils?) Lumi took notes on a scrap sheet of paper in case she and her (hopefully future) team ever ended up on a mission in the Kingdom of Mistral (home of celebrities and thieves and celebrity thieves).
It was a nice day, overall, until a blonde bombshell burst through the door with a sing-song shout of, "HEY UNCLE QROW, LONG TIME NO SEE!"
(How did she speak in all caps and still have the enthusiasm to convey an exclamation point? Lumi felt tired just looking at her.)
"What did you do now, and was it cool?" He shot back, eyes still on his Scroll.
"Uhh," she closed the door and slunk closer after a cautious glance over her shoulder. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was here the whole time, with you, doing my homework."
He snorted and looked up. "What did I tell you about lying?"
"Make it good or make it confusing, just don't allow yourself to get caught," she recited with a nod.
"Good girl," he chuckled.
The blonde took the seat nearest the desk and scanned the area like she was expecting a pack of Beowolves to attack. Her eye caught Lumi's and she cocked her head.
"Who're you?" she glanced at her uncle then back at her.
Week six wasn't going to give her any rest, it seemed.
"I'm Lumi," she shuffled the papers in front of her. "Third year. You're B- Mr. Branwen's niece, Yang, right?" She asked out of politeness despite how obvious the answer was.
"Yup," the second year popped the last letter.
A beat of silence passed between them.
"So are you like, his TA or…?" Yang pushed on.
"Uh, yeah, pretty much," Lumi held up the filled out weapon evaluation forms.
"Cool," she grinned. "Think you can maybe fill in some missing points for me, so I can get an A? My dad would lose his mind if my next report card came in with straight A's."
Before Lumi could respond, Branwen cut in. "You'd have to get A's in all your other classes first for that to happen."
Yang turned and stuck her tongue out at him. "I've got like, a B in History and I just brought my Lit grade up to a C!"
If she just brought it up to a C, there was no way she could get an A- grades were being sent out at the end of the week and Tanner was brutal when it came to deadlines (if that was who she had for Lit). Lumi wasn't particularly religious, but she sent a prayer up to Oum anyways because Yang sounded like she needed all the help she could get.
The uncle-niece duo bickered a while longer, and were still snarking at each other and talking by the time Lumi's detention ended. She took her leave as quietly as possible, while the other purple eyed girl stayed behind with her uncle, rambling about a busted motorcycle she had seen and how it would be such a nice present for her birthday, ya know?
By the time Lumi arrived on Wednesday, Yang was already in the workshop, still slightly on edge about whatever she had done yesterday. She politely waved hi, which the blonde returned with finger guns and Lumi remembered that Yang was Mr. Xiao Long's daughter.
She shivered, but kept with her routine regardless of the other girl. Xiao Long was a harsh taskmaster (especially when it came to running laps) but his daughter wasn't him- not that Yang had the authority to make her run laps or anything… she hoped. Nepotism was a hell of a thing. She shivered again.
Branwen strolled in just as Lumi got settled and raised a brow at his totally innocent niece.
Yang fluttered her eyelashes in a completely believable "who me? Just minding my own business, being good; volunteering in soup kitchens" expression.
He snorted and threw himself into his office chair. "Yeah, right," his expression said without words.
Lumi, who had witnessed the near telepathic communication, was impressed but not so impressed or curious as to ask about what exactly the second-year girl had done.
Branwen was still on the topic of food (with no end in sight it seemed) but instead of Mistral cuisine and street vendors he brought up baked goods- more specifically, how his other niece had an obsession with cookies.
Yang chimed in with a story of how when Ruby was six or seven, she ate an entire bowl of cookie dough (with her help, of course) while their dad was on the phone, only to throw it all up twenty minutes later. She spoke with her hands, animating and gesturing to show how little Ruby and little her had stolen the mixing bowl and wooden spoons and sat under the table as though it would hide them when their dad came looking.
Lumi smiled despite herself and chuckled quietly. She tucked her pen behind her ear and told her own "zany sibling" tale. "Once, my younger brother Ash tried to make a brownie in a cup- I don't know where he got the idea from- but set the microwave for way too long. The whole kitchen filled with a nasty, burnt chocolate smell and this thick, black smoke- the smell didn't go away for hours, even when we opened all the windows and turned on all the fans."
Yang threw back her head and laughed, "Haha! Me and Ruby tried making a cake for our dad's birthday one year- only we had no idea what we were doing and all we had was this totally ancient cookbook that didn't even have any pictures, and-"
On and on they went, swapping stories while Branwen chimed in with corrections and smart-alec comments when there was a gap. The pile of grading was neglected, as was any sense of time because Lumi blinked and suddenly detention was over- had been over for thirteen minutes, technically. She bit back a curse and packed her things in a hurry.
"Sorry to run, but my airbus is going to be here soon," Lumi slung her bag over her shoulder while handing over the ungraded work. "It was nice talking with you, Yang. Bye, you two!" she called over her shoulder as she fast-walked out.
Branwen raised a hand in a lazy two-finger salute with his customary "see ya, kid" while Yang shot back a similar statement and finger guns.
"Well whatever you did hasn't come back to bite you in the ass yet," Qrow said and stood up. "So let's get you home, sparky."
"Pssht, I'm definitely like a firecracker, or a bonfire, and not a wimpy little spark," she huffed and flipped her hair over one shoulder.
"Mm, sure, whatever you say," he tucked his Scroll into his pocket.
On the way to Tai's house, Qrow thought about how lively and engaged his quiet little student had been, even though Yang had done most of the storytelling- how she was so quiet with him. Maybe her problem was with adults or authority, and what she really needed was a good friend to talk her out throwing her life away.
Six weeks of one-sided conversation hadn't gotten her to open up, but one hour of his bombastic niece sharing embarrassing stories about her sister and the other girl couldn't keep the smile off her face. It was… a change, that was sure. Maybe he could get Yang to stay once or twice a week and talk with her? He could have a convenient staff meeting to go to, but listen in as a bird in the rafter or open window and find out if she'd confess to problems at home.
He swept the thought away as soon as the door opened and a whirlwind of red launched itself at him.
"Uncle Qrow~!" Ruby shouted. "I haven't seen you in forever!"
He chuckled, mind in the moment. "You saw me last week."
"I know, that was forever ago!" She grabbed his hand and yanked him inside. "I need help with my weapon design, c'mon!"
He let himself be dragged with a fond grin.
Naturally, no good thing could last. Qrow walked into his class the next day with a freshly printed stack of papers, ready for his unofficial TA to make into packets, only to see Huang's firey orange-red hair and tense frame looming over his trouble-making niece.
Two pairs of purple eyes turned to him, one pleading and frantic, the other shuttered and apathetic.
Great.
"Hey, Ember," he called and drew her attention as he loudly dropped the stack on the nearest table. "What can I do for you?"
She turned on him with fire in her eyes. "Your hooligan niece planted stink bombs in my office, I know she did!"
He raised a nonchalant brow and crossed his arms over his chest. "Uh-huh. Ya got any proof it was her?"
"Unfortunately, the cameras have been on the fritz this week," she sighed with faux-heaviness, thin mouth drawn into a scrunched expression of "what can you do?" She continued, "But she visited just yesterday with some fake concerns about classes for next year!"
"Hey, those were real questions!" Yang interjected, eyes flashing red.
"So you don't deny putting stink bombs in my office?" Huang spun on her heel back to Yang, hands on her hips.
"I never said that," she ground out between clenched teeth. "You have no proof it was me."
"That's not a denial, Miss Xiao Long."
Ugh, this was a headache he didn't want to deal with. He played with the thought of throwing Yang to the wolves to learn from her mistake, but just as easily tossed the idea aside. He didn't like Huang enough to give her the satisfaction of getting his niece in trouble, even if she did deserve it.
"Look, Yang's right," he ambled over to his niece's side. "You don't have proof it was her. Far as I'm concerned, you walked in here with nothin' more than accusations and I don't think Blossom is gonna agree to punish a student for something you think they did."
The guidance counselor hissed and drew herself to her full height. "I know it was her, and when the truth comes out I don't think Blossom is going to look too kindly on you for hiding the truth."
He shrugged. "Prove it was her. Until then, I have work to do so see yourself out, 'kay?"
He walked away without waiting for her response and plopped down at his desk.
Ember didn't scream, but it was a near thing. Why known alcoholic Qrow Branwen hadn't been fired for his blatant disregard of school rules and basic ettiquette, she didn't know but she was going to find out and soon. She shot the darkest glare she could over her shoulder as she stomped away, then caught sight of the quiet grey-haired girl (trouble maker) sitting apart from the uncle and niece duo.
"I should have known you'd take in Miss Hazelwood," she sneered. "Delinquent birds of a delinquent feather, the lot of you!"
"Bye, Ember," Qrow shot back without looking up from his screen.
She stormed off.
Qrow then turned an unimpressed stare at his delinquent niece. Yang avoided his gaze and kicked the foot of a stool.
Meanwhile, Lumi strongly considered abusing her Semblance to slipping through the shadows and ditch detention.
What a mess.
Dread filled Lumi's stomach as she walked into Friday's detention, a feeling that was not abated by the sight of messy blonde hair.
"Hey," she called and hopped onto her usual stool.
"Oh, hey," Yang twirled a finger around a frizzy lock of hair. "Looks like I'm a sorta-TA with you now. My dad was pissed- I mean, 'disappointed' (insert finger quotes and a roll of the eyes here) 'cause what happened yesterday, so yeah…"
"That's rough," Lumi hummed. "I thought you didn't get caught?"
She sighed heavily. "Yeah well, Uncle Qrow told my dad and my uncle was already pissy with me for almost getting caught so my dad was all," she squared her shoulders, crossed her arms and adopted a deeper voice. "Yang, baby, I raised you better than this! Think of what kind of example you're setting for Ruby- and how this is gonna affect blah blah blah." She opened and closed one hand with every blah.
Lumi hummed again in sympathy. From the sound of it, at least the Branwen-Xiao Long family weren't screaming at each other and breaking glasses. The nerves in her stomach unbundled in a slow release. She snagged the ungraded work from yesterday and a stapler then set to work, in a better mood than when she walked in.
Four packets in, Yang slid onto the seat beside her and asked, "So is this all you do?"
Without looking up, Lumi replied, "Pretty much. I used to clean the class too, but once I started grading Branwen took over that."
"Yeah, sounds like my uncle," Yang propped her head in one palm. "He's always complaining about grading and how he can never read anyone's handwriting."
They sat in silence a little longer.
"What's your sister, Ruby, like?" Lumi looked up and caught the other girl's eye. "Besides a chronic cookie thief," she added with a teasing grin.
The floodgates opened. Yang was happy enough to ramble about her sister, her sister's hobbies, and her own while Lumi graded and nodded along. By the time she finished yesterday's work and a third of todays, their wayward teacher finally appeared.
"Where were you?" Yang asked, leaning on her elbows.
"Staff meeting," he said.
That was that, apparently, because he sat down and started typing something.
Yang picked up the thread of the story she had been telling. Lumi laughed at the younger girl's antics, followed with her own heartwarming tale about Nocte eating playdough.
"It was made out of peanut butter, but I didn't know that because she used to smash all the colors together and it looked the kind of the same as the store bought one, so I start freaking out," Lumi set aside the last paper with a flourish. "I was about ten or so and she was, maybe, five? Anyways, I dragged her to bathroom and tried to help her throw it up, but she started crying about how she was going to die, and how it was Mrs. Applebloom's fault for making it, and things like that. I got to thinking, in this weird moment of clarity, that you can't just make playdough at home, right? Or if you do, you have to know what's in it, so I ran to Mrs. Applebloom's house and started banging on the door."
Lumi laughed at herself and motioned with one exaggerated fist knocking on the woman's door. "I probably scared the poor woman half to death, tears in my eyes, no shoes on my feet, hair a wild mess," she shook her head. "I ask her, 'what's in the playdough, what did you put in the playdough?' and she does this thing, clutches her hands against her chest like she's trying to keep her heart from leaping away, and goes, 'powdered sugar and honey; peanut butter." She tries to ask what's wrong, I think, but I'm already running home at this point, to tell Nocte the good news."
Lumi packed her bag and slung a strap over one shoulder. "Anyways, it's time for me to go, so I'll see you next week."
"See you Monday," Yang pulled out her Scroll.
"See ya, kid," Branwen called.
"Bye," Lumi waved without looking and walked out.
Qrow waited until he was sure the girl was a good distance away before he turned his attention to Yang. "So what'd you two do while I was gone- plant more stink bombs?"
She rolled her eyes. "No," she scrolled down the page. "We just talked."
"About what, politics?" He drawled.
An unamused side-eye was sent his way. "Ruby, her family, classes- ya know, whatever."
He hummed, but didn't ask more questions. He took his niece home shortly thereafter, and lied to Tai's face about what Yang did in detention. Nothing too dramatic, he said, except for the fact that she blew up his class and was leaping off roofs trying to fly.
"YANG XIAO LONG!" Taiyang's voice was still ringing in his ears.
Overall, a good day.
Lumi was not having a good day, despite how much she enjoyed trading stories with Yang only a few hours ago. She dodged her mother's fist and sent a low kick in return.
It felt like the woman was trying to beat an ounce of blood out of her for every hour she had missed because of her fractured arm. By the time she sat down for dinner, she was bruised and sweaty and sore, barely able to lift her fork to her mouth.
She fell asleep fairly early that night after a too-short shower, only to wake up early on Saturday with her muscles screaming at her and her formerly fractured arm creaking like it would only take one good hit to break it along the same lines. Between brushing her teeth and eating breakfast she found enough concentration to flush Aura through her body to reduce soreness and lighten (but not completely heal) her scrapes and bruises.
Which felt the tiniest bit meaningless because Saturday mornings meant one thing: fighting Grimm in Forever Fall forest. And after that, more sparring with her mother. Better still, Sunday would have, you guessed it, even more sparring. Lumi bit back a groan and drove her baton across a Beowolf's snout with more force than was necessary.
Despite nearly having her head bit off (again), she somehow made it through the weekend and flopped into bed on Sunday night feeling grateful that her dad was not a Huntsman. She spared a thought for her neglected siblings, which neither parent spent much time with, but remembered that if she hadn't confessed to her mother that she wanted to be a Huntress when she was young then she would be just as neglected as them.
Neglect, she felt, was better than getting the shit beaten out of you in a parent's drive for you to be better than them and bring prestige to the family name.
With that thought on her mind, Lumi blinked and woke up three hours later. Her head spun and her body ached but she dragged herself to the kitchen and wolfed down enough food to feed three civilian men to quiet her snarling stomach.
Ash shoved a glass of water into her trembling hands somewhere between plate one and two, and kept refilling it when she drained it. At some point, Nocte joined the pair with a half-empty bottle of painkillers.
Lumi laid her head on the table while her siblings swept away her mess, and thought to herself that she loved her brother and sister with all her heart and would fight fifty Ursa and eighty Beowolves and thirty Nevermores if it meant they would be happy.
"If you want to make me happy you can just buy me MisHonored 3.5," Nocte said in response to what Lumi had apparently said out loud and not thought to herself.
She gave her sister a thumbs up. "Whaddabout you, Ash?"
"I'm happy as long as you're okay," he stated with conviction.
"Suck up," Nocte smacked his arm.
"Selfish," he shot back.
Lumi patted the table. "Shh, I love you both."
The younger two elbowed and pinched each other quietly until Ash dug his knuckles into Nocte's ribs. She shrieked and jabbed her thumb in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Off they went, yowling and batting at each other like rambunctious kittens.
Oum above that was a cute image. Maybe she could convince her dad to get a cat? She pushed herself up and trudged over to the living room. They lived in a house, and had paid the pet deposit fee thing just in case, so aside from a re-homing fee and food and stuff, it wouldn't cost all that much. Even if it did, she had a good amount saved up from her less than legal side-job.
"What kind of cat do you two want?" Lumi called as she rifled through their collection of remotes in search of the one that controlled the WebFlix box.
"Cat?" Her dad peeked his head around the corner. "Who has a cat?"
"We should get one," she said and turned the TV on. "But I don't know what kind."
"Uh-huh," he sat next to Lumi on the couch. "And you just assumed I'd give you three the go-ahead?"
She side-eyed him. "I'll pay for it and Nocte can clean the litter box- or it can be an outside cat and we won't need a litterbox except when it rains."
"Convincing argument," he stared at his youngest two as they raced to the only open spot on the couch. "Except for the part where you think Nocte will ever go near a litterbox to clean it."
She shrugged. "Then it can be an outside only cat."
"Still haven't sold me on why we need one," he raised a pierced grey brow at her.
"Cats are cute," Ash threw a pillow at Nocte, who had won the race, then turned off the lights. "We should get a Ragdoll breed."
"No way! Munchkin cats are way cuter!" Nocte clutched the pillow to her stomach and snuggled against Lumi's side.
"You're both wrong." Lumi interjected as she scrolled through the "currently watching" list. "Forest cats are the best."
Their father shook his head at them all and gave in to the inevitable. "I guess we're getting a cat?"
Lumi hit select and the opening sequence for Daring Devil blared across the screen. "Thanks for agreeing, oh father dearest."
He took off his square-rimmed glasses and sighed. "Welcome, daughter mine."
The Hazelwood family quieted down to watch episode thirteen of season three, and Lumi thought to herself (not out loud this time) that a good day looked a lot like watching TV with her family, no worries on her mind.
A/N: Apologies if anyone got double-notifications. I uploaded the wrong chapter at first, but it's fixed now.
Also! If anyone is confused, in Chapter 2 Qrow mentioned a "nine-step program" for alcoholics- that wasn't a typo or anything. I'm basing the RWBY version of Alcoholics Anonymous on the real-life one, but changing some parts to make more sense in-universe. I don't think they have a god of any sort, even if Lumi talks about Oum and prayers. Who knows though, what with the "legends" about the Maidens and Wizard being kinda true!
See you lovely people next week!