Valence

by Cowjump

With the end of their first year at Beacon Academy having come to pass, Team RWBY must contend with the next three months of their summer break. Follow this eclectic bunch as they are thrown into a situation that utilizes neither their combined combat prowess nor their acquired knowledge on all things battle-related during their adventures in the city of Vale.

8. Chapter 8: Burning Heart

I apologize for the wait. Really, I am sorry; as each day passed and I still didn't have the chapter complete, I found myself asking whether or not this chapter would be good enough to publish. There was a problem in tonality with writing this chapter caused by personal events that I'm not going to get into. What needs to be known is that a majority of this wait was caused by rewrites and trying to find some sort of coherency between the shifts in tone. Again, I am truly sorry. I promised that this would have come out a month ago, and I failed in that regard.

To compensate for my error, I set up a download link for PDFs of every chapter of Valence out so far (found at the top of my profile). I understand that the longer sentence and paragraph structures of this story do not seem to agree with Fanfiction's format. These will hopefully allow desktop-view readers to read the story easier since they format the story as I normally read it. For mobile users, however, I am still unsure of what to do in terms of offering different file formats. I tested the PDFs on my phone, and while they do load, they do not scale adequately. Besides, I am unsure if the host I used for the PDFs works easily for mobile devices. I considered an EPUB/E-book format, but if I am going to do that, it will be made when the story is complete and would include every chapter in a single book.

The main point to take away from the prior paragraph is that if you dislike the format of Fanfiction and you read on a computer, I have a link to PDFs for the chapters on my profile.

Once again, I am so sorry for the wait. Hopefully chapter eight of Valence serves to make up for the impromptu hiatus.

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Chapter 8: Burning Heart

It had been five days since Blake left Beacon Academy, her studies, and her mysterious, reserved personality behind for the promise of a life that would be both uncharacteristic of her and entirely restorative to her sociality that had otherwise been suppressed by fears of rejection and the unknown. In these five days, she had come so far from who she once was. Instead of preferring to stay as close to her dorm room as possible as to not engage in any extraneous social gatherings, she found herself thrust into situations that required atypical enthusiasm and that often included large groups of people, much to her initial chagrin. She had become more reliant on others and personal interaction rather than the escapist possibilities of novels which could supply her only with intangible visions of romance, humor, and overall happiness. She had been able to overcome her deep-seated distrust of the human race to the point where she was willingly able to commit the entirety of her summer to be in the company of three humans that she could now call friends. However, at this juncture, all of these changes were but annoying ideas that kept the young Faunus from staying asleep. In an attempt to reverse this effect, Blake nuzzled closer to the warm form that she had seemingly been clinging to for the entirety of the night.

Under these warm sheets that shielded her from the cold morning air, Blake felt safe and blissful. This bliss was only added to by the fact that the form by her side did not leave her and gave her the unspoken permission to express her affections. Blake, being well-versed in literature and having a vocabulary at her disposal that could describe a situation both vividly and precisely, could not think of her current actions as anything but two words. The verbs "cuddle" and "snuggle" were so far beneath her "mature" diction that to think that she could use the words to describe any action which she could partake in—let alone be the main instigator of—would be demeaning in its own right. And yet Blake did not care that she was snuggling and cuddling the form beside her fervently. Her past, her future, and everything that she thought she was became nonentities in this moment of lackadaisical joy.

Yang was a blessing if ever there was one. In this very moment, she was warm, kind, and so accepting of Blake that she dared not move lest she inadvertently awaken the young Faunus. Of course, Blake only saw the immobility in this light. She had been awake for a little bit, not long enough to warrant actually getting up, but enough to where she was far from asleep. A soft, wide smile graced her features. She dared not open her eyes, for she wanted to make the most of this situation and take in all the sensory details that she could. Seeing would overpower the other senses. For now, Blake nuzzled closer into the form, feeling the fabric of what she believed to be Yang's tank top rub against her cheek.

She hoped that Yang was awake, if only so she could hear her melodic voice once more. However, as far as she knew, Yang was still resting. Despite being a heavy sleeper, the blonde didn't snore much—a fact that was very much appreciated by Blake who had slept with her ear close to Yang's heart and in effect, her head. Through the darkness of her unconscious, she had been able to feel the faintest of warm breaths brush past the fur of her Faunus ears every so often during the night. Somehow, she had managed to move closer to the form beside her, thankful that she had been there for her and thankful that she had stayed. She took in the characteristic scent of lavender and sighed happily.

To think that Yang had said "Yes." To think that she allowed for all of this to happen. To think that she would be there for Blake whenever she needed someone to be there for her. Blake could not have been happier with any other single decision in her life. She was more than grateful to Yang—happy, thrilled, nervous, all of these and more and yet she was without a word to describe this feeling. She felt as though she could cry tears of joy, but chose not to as it would only soil the otherwise blissful moment. This was as much Yang's time as it was hers. She didn't want to worry her with crying.

Instead, she held on tighter to the form beside her. Yang was safe now. She was distanced from whatever unfortunate circumstances she had been forced into by Blake's unconscious and she was here now. If the warmness under these sheets told Blake anything, it was that she was safe within Yang's unwavering hold as well. The storm had passed and they had come out of it more than all right. If anything, they were closer and Blake knew this. To what extent, she wasn't sure, but she knew for a fact that Yang would be there for her and that she would gladly be there for Yang.

Nothing struck her as funny about the current situation and yet Blake felt a desire to giggle well up within her. This was an odd sensation, something she had never before encountered. She was somewhat concerned at what appeared to be the possibility of manic laughter, but chose to write it off for now. She figured that perhaps she was just happy enough that she felt the need to laugh—that was something that she read about somewhere before.

Admittedly, she didn't know how to react to much of anything that occurred as of late. At this moment, she was sharing a bed with another person. The fact that she was dating this person and that after only five days she would be this comfortable around her were both baffling thoughts. However, it is not to say that Blake saw this instance in a negative light by any means. Of course she had the momentary introspection of whether or not they was moving too fast in their relationship, but these thoughts were ceased by the sheer happiness that she felt lying beside her girlfriend.

She took a deep breath, taking in the sightless moment for all it was worth one more time. The fact that she could cling to Yang and not be judged for it in the least was able to make her feel unabashedly giddy. She hugged the form beside herself again, taking in the flowery scent and feeling the decidedly smooth fabric, before reluctantly pulling away. Now, she figured, was the right time to open her eyes and take in the sight of Yang in all her radiant splendor. Slowly and with an unbreakable smile on her face, Blake opened her eyes.

Normally, Yang's tank top was orange. Unfortunately, the fabric which Blake now held onto was purely white. At this revelation, she realized that the form beside her was much more relenting than a human's body should be whenever she applied pressure. She found that the scent of lavender no longer had a nearby source and was only a lingering memory of the person that caused it. Blake sighed as she disengaged from the form.

It was a pillow that she had been hugging. Because it was Yang's pillow and because she was lying in Yang's bed, she managed to retain some level of happiness. However, the fact that Yang was not there was more than a little troublesome. Blake was not dependent on her girlfriend for happiness and safety, but without her presence in this particular moment, she felt lost. Even with the knowledge that the form beside her had only been a pillow, she hugged it nonetheless. She didn't know why she held the pillow the way she did in this moment; she knew that she was saddened to some degree by Yang's absence and that she was frustrated that she had left her alone, but this hold expressed neither of these sentiments. She sighed dejectedly, wishing that Yang had not left.

What had been a wonderful, peaceful quiet became a bleak silence. Without the sound of Yang's voice or even her quiet breathing, Blake could only focus on the faint hum of the air conditioning. The only way she could describe this moment was "anticlimactic," though she could not say what she had expected in the first place. Some part of her wanted to wake up alongside Yang so that the two of them could start the day off together. Then again, another—admittedly uncharacteristic—part of Blake wanted to be woken up to Yang brushing her ears and telling her another unfunny joke. Even still, she perhaps wanted to wake Yang in such a way, with her own bad joke and gentle brushing. However, all of these desires were impossible without Yang's presence and for this, she frowned.

Blake didn't know how long she laid there, thinking about nothing in particular and holding the white pillow that smelled somewhat like flowers close. Her drive for efficiency had vanished and was replaced with a mentality that only wished to remain inactive for the time being. It is not to say that she was sad, upset, or affected by any other negative mindset. No, Blake was simply thinking. She, herself, wasn't exactly sure what she was thinking about—mostly Yang, but occasional internal monologues about how she shouldn't remove the blanket because the air conditioning was too cold or observations about the grey light that filtered through the curtains of the room distracted her.

She found her eyes wandering around her girlfriend's room, not in search of anything in particular. It looked like her own room, only larger and more furnished. The rooms had the same beige walls and immaculate curtains; however, Yang's room seemed more alive than hers. She could see a door that decidedly did not lead into the hallway. If she was to guess by the small amount of what looked to be ceramic tile, she would guess that the room beyond that door was the master bathroom. Though she was certain that this new information was insignificant and probably wouldn't be used, she felt that knowing a bit about the house's layout made it easier to adjust. Though, adjusting was an inconsequential action by this point. She was more than comfortable around her teammates and Yang, causing her to feel no shame when softly laughing at an unopened box in the corner of the room that looked to contain a laptop. Even when Yang wasn't physically present, she still managed to be incredibly hospitable.

Just as Blake was becoming tired once again, the Faunus ear that had not been trapped between her head and the pillow perked up. Begrudgingly, she attempted to figure out what caused this reaction. There was the distant sound of a person talking—rather, two people talking. Blake did not care who the first voice belonged to, having quickly trained her focus on the second. There was only one person in this house who could hold a complaining tone while still joking and teasing. Blake smiled widely. Perhaps the morning was still salvageable.

There was a moment of trepidation after first pulling the bedding off herself and becoming exposed to the cold air. She hadn't realized exactly how warm the bed had been and suddenly wanted to return to it. She did not, however, as Yang's voice continued. She was thankful for the carpeted floor throughout the house, but this still did not alleviate the frigid sensation that was now affecting her legs. She had the thought of going into her room to at least put her leggings on, but decided against it. As she walked towards the door, she found it to be only just open, proving to her that Yang had left after waking up.

As soon as Blake set foot in the hallway, all extraneous thoughts that did not concern Yang were dismissed. She walked ahead, unconcerned about the light snoring sounds that resonated through Ruby's room. As it had been on that fateful day only three days ago, the sound of conversation seemed to come from the kitchen. Immediately, she went that way as quickly as she could while maintaining a calm, discrete level of noise. She would have run to the source of the sound if it wouldn't have caused too much sound. Nonetheless, she stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, choosing only stare at the sight before her.

Be it the glow of the mid-morning sun after a night of rain or simply the blonde's cheerful demeanor, Yang was positively glowing. However, she had not noticed Blake yet. This was fair enough for the Faunus, as she was content with just gazing at her partner. In doing so, she was inadvertently able to eavesdrop upon the conversation Yang was having with her sister.

"Fine," Ruby seemed to relent. "If you promise you'll leave her alone today, I'll keep quiet."

Yang made a show of rolling her sparkling, lilac eyes. "But I only have to hold off for today, right? Or is tomorrow off-limits too?"

Ruby sighed in an uncharacteristically exasperated manner. "I don't want you to, but there's no way I can stop you, is there?"

"Nope!" Yang chirped.

"I thought so," the young leader grimaced. She then looked up to seriously meet her sister's gaze. "You really need to tell her, Yang. I promise that I won't, but you're going to have to sometime soon. I have a feeling she'll be disappointed if she doesn't find out before she can get you anything."

As Yang dismissively rolled her eyes once again, Blake found herself distracted by the conversation that had taken place. Because she had walked in on the two discussing subjects that seemed to be kept purposefully confidential, she knew better than to ask what was going on. Still, she couldn't help but be curious. Luckily, she had come across the two as they were finalizing their agreements, so there would be little guilt in her eavesdropping. But now that the two had stopped talking, she found herself compelled to simply look at her girlfriend. Almost instantly, Yang looked towards the doorway and beamed.

Because the kitchen lacked the carpeting that the rest of the house had, the floor was incredibly cold to the touch for those who neither had a fire-based aura nor had developed callousness to the sensation after years of strenuous running. Blake didn't pay this sensation any heed, however, as she strolled through the kitchen and towards her girlfriend. She didn't care if Ruby was present or not; her attention was solely focused on Yang who was greeting her with a genuinely sunny, "'Morning, Blake!"

Blake's response came in the form of wrapping Yang in a hug that had missed its intended target earlier. As Yang reciprocated the warm hold, Blake closed her eyes and turned her head side so that she could hear the heartbeat she had fallen asleep to once again. She felt a light chuckle come from Yang. "I guess someone slept well."

Blake hummed in affirmation and whispered, "Good morning, Yang."

Ruby laughed nervously. "Yeah, I'll just..." She never finished the statement, having scurried out of the room to give the two some privacy for the moment. Blake was grateful for this, but right now, all she could think about was Yang.

As she took in the source of the lavender scent, Blake felt one of Yang's arms come up to cradle the back of her head while the other slowly rubbed her back. She shivered at the contact—not because of the cold air or the floor, but because she felt so right in this position. "Are you all right, kitten? That storm seemed to shake you pretty hard." Blake nodded into Yang. Honestly, she was more than all right now. Yang gave a short, relieved laugh. "Well, that's good to know. Sorry I left before you woke up. Just had to take care of a few things and I thought I'd let you rest."

Blake gave a short laugh of her own. "Don't worry. You're here now and that's all that matters." She was pulled closer by Yang who began exuding a great amount of prideful warmth that kept even the slightest feelings of coldness away. After a few seconds, Blake's smile turned into a smirk. "You know, I never would have thought that you would be the type of person to wake up early to get things done." If this show of maturity was the case, then it would only be another characteristic of Yang that Blake admired.

"Pffft!" Yang sounded, shaking any complimentary remarks that Blake had prepared for her. "It's after noon, Blake." This caused the Faunus' eyebrows to furrow and the blonde's tone to become more teasing. "I guess you just got too comfortable and slept in."

There was nothing false about Yang's statements. When Blake opened her eyes, she saw an appliance's clock that proved it was only just after noon. While she was disappointed that she had slept a third of the day away, she could understand why. After last night's storm and the stress of her nightmare, the relief she felt from finding Yang safe and the subsequent consoling she received resulted in perhaps the deepest, most relaxing night of sleep she had ever had. She hummed, "Perhaps." Blake then closed her eyes again, simply basking in the warmth exuded by her partner.

It was then that Yang snickered, causing Blake to reopen one eye inquisitively. "The best part is you aren't the only one who slept in." Due to her undeterred focus of finding Yang when she walked to the kitchen, Blake had not noticed anyone else who could have been asleep. "Weiss' driver has been sitting out there for like four hours. Talk about dedication! What do you think she's paying the guy?"

Blake didn't have a response to that. Between the uneasiness she felt in making fun of a teammate behind her back and the fact that any response she could have given would be cut off by a noise within a different part of the house anyways, she chose to remain quiet.

"Ruby!" came the distant, commanding shout of a newly awakened Weiss. This was followed by a string of commands that were incoherent from the Faunus' current position, but she was able to hear the heiress shout "Quickly!" and the door to the opposite partnership's room be closed. Ruby would audibly sigh and her door would reopen not four minutes later. Even from the kitchen, both Blake and Yang could hear the heiress' statement of, "Quickly. We haven't much time to spare."

The speed at which Weiss was able to change clothes was nothing short of a phenomenon for anyone, let alone for one who is as conscious of her external appearance as she is. However, the problem with phenomena is that they are seldom replicated successfully outside of their original instances. Ruby, being as physically fast as she was, could only change her clothes at a fairly normal speed. If she was to rush this process—which, in this case, she did—she would barely make it out of her room in a state only just able to be referred to as "disheveled." It could not have been more than five minutes before the door to Ruby's room reopened and closed once again.

Blake could see the spectacle of red and white pass by the doorway to the kitchen. The frustration radiating off of Weiss was unable to be ignored. The forced gait, the balled fists, and her forward glare all pointed to the fact that her temper was more so caused by herself than by Ruby. Still, this did not stop either of the two from going about their scheduled day while the young leader struggled to pull on a boot as she walked. The heiress stopped and looked at the couple as she stated flatly, "We are leaving for the exhibit. Do not bother following us."

Yang rolled her eyes and shook her head as she heard the front door open and quickly close again. "Of all people, Ruby, why'd it have to be her?" Because the question was posed to a person that was neither present nor herself, Blake simply returned to the hug that she still kept Yang in. "Whatever," Yang sighed, "they'll have fun." Her expression then turned to that of a grin. "Now, what about us?"

Moving her head away from the hold, Blake looked up to meet Yang's gaze. "What do you mean?"

"Do you still want to head downtown? The weather's a little…well, it's not raining anymore, so we could probably make something of it. I mean, we can do whatever—I'm up for anything you wanna do."

Due to the remaining lethargy of having slept in, Blake was not too inclined to make any sort of decision at the moment. However, as she was awake now and because Yang, too, seemed to be avoiding making a decision, she felt compelled to take some form of leadership. It took a great deal of effort on Blake's part to remove herself from her girlfriend, but once she did, she said, "Sure, I'm fine with heading out. Just let me take a shower first and then we can go."

Yang smiled softly. "Sure thing." This was all she said for the moment. While the fact that neither moved from their spots may have seemed awkward, it felt right for them to just smile at each other for a few long seconds.

For some reason—possibly due to the enjoyment Blake found in watching Yang's smile—the young Faunus let out a short laugh before telling Yang, "Okay, I'll be out in a minute."

At this, Blake began to walk away, intent on preparing for an exciting day that was to come. However, her exit would be postponed by Yang's call of, "Take your time! We aren't in any rush."

Blake stopped before the doorway and smiled back at Yang. She wanted to say something in return but knew not what that something would be. For the moment, she gave a soft smile that would serve to delay any sort of response while she became increasingly aware of her discomfort in saying goodbye—even if they would be apart for only a short period of time. She felt that a response was required in this instance; however, a simple "I'll be right out" would not suffice for the deep-seated forlornness that she felt at this departure—it would, perhaps, misrepresent the care that she wished to express with a short and simple phrase that she was yet to create. Unfortunately, between the discomfort she felt in bidding farewell and the fact that her diction was presently escaping her, Blake was only able to muster a thankful smile before turning to leave.

As Blake made her way to her room to gather the clothes she was to change into, she could not help but think about the apparent awkward state she had left the conversation in. She believed that she had interrupted Yang's initial dialogue with Ruby only so that she could be near the blonde again. But at the same time, she knew that Yang was happy to see her as well if the reciprocated embrace meant anything. Still, she thought that she could have made a better, more meaningful exit that would have both reassured Yang that she would return shortly and would make the situation marginally less awkward. As Blake made her way towards her room, she was unable to see the goofy smile that Yang continued to hold despite the amount of effort she put into composing herself.

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While it was not currently raining, the low temperature and the slow, ambient drips from the house's roof made Blake feel as though it was. Some part of her regretted doing so, but the majority or Blake's thoughts on opening the garage door and waiting by Bumblebee for its owner to return were positive. She enjoyed the subtly somber mood set by the grey sky and the reflective, silver puddles in the dirt road. The breeze, however, made her forget for a moment that it was summer. Her proactivity in preparing the garage for her and Yang's leave only brought forth a cold gust from the outside. Because she enjoyed the sight of the storm's aftermath and because of her underlying stubbornness about admitting fault in an otherwise "bold" action, Blake resigned to brave the cold. She tried to find some sort of warmth in seeing the calming image play out on the rust-red path, but despite the rubbing of her own arms, she could not rid herself of the breeze. The only article of clothing that marginally saved her from this breeze was the bow now wrapped around her ears; without it, she thought, this cold would have been unbearable.

Perhaps Yang would have been able to warm her. Not only did the girl have a warming aura about her at all times, she would have been more than willing to hold Blake and ward off the cold. Blake wouldn't have minded that at all. In fact, as the breeze grew colder, she found herself thinking more about her partner. As she thought more about the blonde, she felt noticeably warmer and became less concerned about the world around her.

Ever since her affections for Yang began, there had been a thought that ran through her mind: what, exactly, did she admire about her? A definitive answer had never been reached due to Blake's internal insistence that this was her mind trying to find any possible opportunity to dismiss her relationship as something meaningless and trite. But now that she was happy with the relationship and because she often found herself compiling a list of reasons why she liked the girl, she figured that she could answer the question without feeling conscious of a flawed justification.

Yang was an excitable extrovert—a combination so very opposite of what Blake considered herself to be. The young Faunus was not necessarily opposed to the concept of opposites attracting (she had read of the idea enough to where she considered it to be at least plausible), yet she felt that this did not apply to their relationship. At a very basic level, she wanted to be generally accepted in society—not as a Faunus or a huntress, but as Blake Belladonna. Being with Yang accomplished this acceptance and created a means for Blake to become more extroverted herself. She wanted to be able to talk to people again without having to fear for the safety of herself or others associated with her. She saw Yang as the epitome of conversational confidence and thought that perhaps she could learn something from the blonde through osmosis.

While she was hesitant and initially annoyed at her partner for involving her in activities that often involved groups of people, Blake eventually warmed to Yang's antics. Now she found herself asking to go downtown, into the populated city just so that she could spend more time around the exuberant youth. Blake couldn't decide if it was the fact that Yang could make any situation enjoyable or her apparent ability to make her ease into more conversational society that she found more appealing.

However, these could only exist as positives and not negatives due to Yang's restraint. Aside from the infrequent crude joke, Yang was surprisingly aware of Blake's limits. The young Faunus knew that her partner wanted their relationship to move a little faster, but the blonde showed no qualms about the pace that she desired. They had found a happy medium between their respective paces and Blake attributed this feat mostly to Yang. Still being somewhat hesitant about deepening the relationship, Blake found herself taken aback by her own willingness to be as close to Yang as she had been this morning. Looking back on the events of those early hours, Blake knew that Yang could have easily taken advantage of the situation. A brief, wide smile tugged at the corners of Blake's lips because Yang had shown restraint. This is not to say that Blake distrusted Yang at all; this is simply a matter of hindsight being over-analyzed and appreciated.

Still, this only covered Blake's intellectual attraction to the blonde. She undoubtedly found her partner physically attractive and, recently, became more willing to entertain these sentiments more frequently. Thinking about Yang in this way had become less taboo in her mind, thus allowing her to factor this into her rationalizations of her affections.

When it came to fighting, Yang was unmatched in both close-quarters and hand-to-hand combat as far as Blake was concerned. Even though her style was rough and, at times, reckless, she managed to execute every maneuver elegantly. Because her life seemed to revolve around her combat training, it was no surprise for this gracefulness to translate into Yang's everyday actions. She always had a bounce in her step and a noticeable amount of kinetic energy prepared in the off-chance of an emergency. Some may have called this preparedness somewhat paranoid, but to those who knew Yang like Blake did, this was simply a subconscious show of her power.

If one was to take away the intermittent narcissistic jokes, he or she would find that Yang was a fairly humble individual. Her pronounced strength was only one of her attributes that contradicted this modesty to those who did not know her. The perennial, warm aura that Yang had about her has intimidated others in the past who thought that she had an uncontrollable or excessively powerful Semblance. Those who knew her, though, understood that this aura was anything but intimidating—rather, it is to say that the aura was safe enough outside of the few instances where it actually was uncontrollable. Blake couldn't suppress an amused smile at the memories of Yang's outbursts. Other than those few lapses in control, Yang's aura was more than tolerable to be around. To be completely honest, Blake more than enjoyed the warmth given off by her partner, she was drawn to it.

There is no rational explanation for Blake's fondness of the warmth, but the fact of the matter is that whenever she found herself surrounded by the soothing heat, she felt as though she could let her guard down. This was historically unthinkable for a girl whose life had been seemingly centered around conflict, both internal and external. Yet it was the irony in Yang utilizing an aura intended for combat for something as innocent lulling her to sleep that made the Faunus able to relax. Through the brashness, the puns, and the isolated instances of uncontrolled emotions, Blake knew that Yang was amiable and completely benign and was all the more attracted to her for it.

After thinking about their relationship in this light, Blake found that she did not have an answer to her question. While this was unfortunate in her mind to some degree, the fact that she hadn't rationalized the relationship as "simple" and "juvenile" was one to take comfort in. Since she couldn't answer her first question, she posed a second: what did she think of Yang? Rather, she revised the question almost immediately to: after the events of this morning, what did she think of Yang?

Blake had no answer for this. The sentiments, whatever they were, were without a doubt positive. However, there was no word, phrase, or analogy that concisely conveyed what she was feeling. Of course she was happy—jubilant even—but at the same time she was oddly nervous. From an objective view, this nervousness did not spawn from any thought in particular, instead simply existing at a level that was both constantly noticeable but never bothersome. Perhaps this nervousness existed to counter the thrill that Blake had when she was around Yang, acting as a humbling balance to an otherwise strong emotion. Despite these, she also felt a small amount of sadness due to a current lack of Yang's presence.

This jumble of emotions was both heart-warming and mentally chilling, but could not be thought too much on for the moment. A clicking sound drew Blake's attention to the door leading from the house to the garage.

She turned in time to see Yang striding out of the door with an immediately warming smile. Blake smiled back at her, finding the sight wonderfully distracting from the cold. "Huh," Yang began, not slowing her pace as she moved towards the lockers against the back wall, "I thought it was supposed to be summer." As Yang opened the lockers and gathered their helmets, a cold gust invaded the garage, harmlessly blowing a few strands of hair over Yang's shoulder while causing Blake to shiver. "I will admit though," the blonde turned around, "it does make for great touring weather!" She winked at this statement before her expression froze and slowly declined.

This caused Blake to frown in turn. "Is something wrong?"

"You're cold," observed Yang. Blake raised an eyebrow; while she had been uncomfortable with the temperature before, she was content now that she was in the effective range of Yang's aura. The blonde's expression looked to be a mix of concern and deep thought. "You're shivering." Blake hadn't noticed that she had yet to cease the subconscious rubbing of her arms. Now that the action had attention drawn to it, though, she stopped. When she did, she found that she was shaking slightly. Before she knew what was happening, Blake found that Yang had taken off her jacket and was extending it to her. "Here," she said.

"What?" This question was not intended to verify Yang's intents more than it was to voice disapproval. Though Yang seemed to be unaffected by the cold despite her upper body's clothing consisting of only a tank top and scarf, Blake didn't want Yang to suffer for her sake. "Yang, I can't."

The blonde's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean 'you can't'?" She sounded genuinely confused.

"I can't take your jacket. What if you become cold while we're out? And what if it rains?" While the thought of accepting the jacket was appealing, Blake believed that it was her turn to take care of Yang.

However, this opposition wavered when the Faunus saw the blonde's frown turn into a playful smirk. "Blake, you know I have another jacket like this, right?" Hearing this, Blake remembered their last day at Beacon where Yang had changed from her combat jacket into the lighter variant that was now being offered. "You can wear this while I get the other one. I think you might need the heavier one, but until then, here." She extended the jacket out even further.

While part of her still did not want to accept the jacket due to the thought of Yang being cold without it, Blake knew that whatever argument she had against the offer had been dissolved with Yang's reminder. Hesitantly, she reached out to the offered item and touched it. It looked like it was made solely from leather, but she was surprised when she gripped a jacket that was made of some sort of fabric that was both soft and sturdy. Blake found that when she gripped it, Yang's hand fell away, leaving the jacket to be supported by her hold alone.

Blake's attention was distracted from the jacket by Yang's quick exclamation of "Be right back!" and subsequent bolting back into the house. She shook her head, smiling all the while. Yang had once again dismissed her troubles so easily.

With Yang's absence, another cold breeze blew into the garage. There was no longer a reason to argue against the offer now that it had been accepted. Blake held the jacket out in front of her and momentarily inspected it for any slight wrinkle or flaw that she might have created. Doing so caused the short sleeves to loosen and fall, proving themselves to be longer sleeves rolled all the way up to the shoulder. She found nothing immediately wrong with it nor saw this new revelation as alarming. She removed Gambol Shroud from her back and placed it on the counter before putting on the jacket. Instantly, she was met with comforting sensations. Her initial denial of the offer now seemed absurd.

She thought that the jacket would have fit her similarly to how it normally fit Yang; however, she found that the coat fit like one normally should, albeit with sleeves that were slightly longer than her arms. This provided her with complete, enveloping warmth that subverted any power the cold previously had over her. She rubbed her arms again; though, she no longer did this to fight off the temperature. She did whatever she could to bask in the feeling of this warmth and the fabric's texture. As opposed to the sturdy exterior of the jacket, the interior was as soft as a blanket, causing Blake to nuzzle into its collar. This action brought Blake's attention to another sensation. In nuzzling the collar, she noticed that she could faintly smell lavender. She grinned unabashedly, knowing that there wasn't anyone to witness her satisfaction.

Within recent memory, there had not been a single instance where Yang was unable to turn a negative situation into a positive one. Though Blake did enjoy periods of unexciting calmness, she could not complain about Yang's sunny attitude and how it always improved her situation. The blonde seemed to be perennially selfless—a fact that Blake often felt obliged to rebel against. How she could retain this level of positivity despite her desired occupation was confusing but not at all off-putting. Blake would not argue against Yang's altruism since it was in her partner's nature. She was cheerful, she was kind, and she enjoyed helping others. Perhaps this was the reason why Blake was drawn to her.

Blake's Faunus ears twitched under her bow, notifying her of a movement on the other side of the house's door. Instantly, she stopped her appreciative motions and forced herself to look somewhat bored.

The door opened again and before Yang stepped into the garage, she spoke. "All right, I've got it," she gasped, making a show of the fact that she ran through the house to find the now outstretched jacket. There didn't seem to be too much of a difference between the jacket Blake wore and the one that was held out to her. It didn't look "heavier" as Yang said it was, but Blake did not have any reason to doubt. Blake began taking off her jacket, but stopped as she found Yang moving closer and then behind her. "Here, let me help."

Before she could argue against the action, Yang began to pull the jacket off. While the proximity of Yang and her aura was relaxing, this interruption did not stop her from resisting. "Yang, please. I can take care of this myself."

"I know you can, but I'm going to help anyway." Blake groaned as the coat was removed. It wasn't the returning chill that caused this displeasure, but more so it was the removal of the jacket. Admittedly, she wanted to prolong her exposure to the fabric, causing her rejection of the assistance. However, she was compelled to accept the help not because Yang's actions were kind and sincere, but because she knew that arguing with Yang's adamancy was nearly pointless.

Looking over her shoulder, Blake saw Yang throwing the lighter jacket over her shoulder before lifting up the allegedly heavier jacket. She had come to terms with Yang's assistance, causing her to raise her arms with a smirk as she prepared for the jacket to be put on. The fabric within felt similar to that of the lighter item, however, there were areas where reinforcement was noticeable. She could already feel how this jacket would be warmer and had even observed a more noticeable existence of a lavender scent. The jacket seemed to fit her as well as the other, leading her to believe that this would be a suitable replacement. That is, she did believe this before Yang let go of it.

Instantly, Blake's shoulders sagged and her posture was forced into a slouch. When Yang said that this jacket was "heavier," Blake understood the description as "better equipped to fend off the cold." What she didn't realize was that this "heavier" jacket was actually Yang's combat attire, body armor and all. Not only did the increased weight catch her off-guard, but once she became aware of the incorporated plating, she still could not adjust properly. She made an attempt to stand up straight, only to be met with what must have been an additional half of her own weight's worth of resistance. She was able to correct her posture eventually, but the strain was tiring. Still, she was warm and would do her best not to complain.

"Blake?" Yang asked hesitantly. What the Faunus intended to do was quickly turn to speak to Yang face-to-face. What actually occurred was an agonizingly slow waddle as she fought against the weight on her shoulders. Eventually, though, she met the blonde's concerned gaze. "Are you all right? It's not too heavy, is it?"

"No, not at all," Blake attempted to dismiss. Unfortunately, she was unaware of the strain the weight placed on her voice, causing her nonchalant façade to be betrayed.

Yang narrowed her eyes. "Really, now?" Blake tried to nod in response, but failed to do so with the collar of the jacket keeping her from moving her head. Two gloved hands reached for either shoulder of the jacket, grabbed the leather exterior, and lifted. Relieved of the strain, Blake was able to breathe again and unwittingly make a show of it. Seeing this, Yang quickly removed the jacket and moved to grab the lighter one. She sighed, "Sorry, Blake. I wasn't really thinking. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Without the weight of the jacket, Blake was able to compose her thoughts. "It's okay. I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting it to be that heavy." With her lattermost statement, she had attempted to lighten the mood; unfortunately, Yang held an uncharacteristic frown as she returned with the lighter jacket. Before she could assist with putting it on, Blake stopped her. "Yang," she placed a hand on the blonde's arm, "it's okay. I wasn't hurt so there's nothing to worry about." Yang's frown did not vanish. Blake released her arm and pulled her into a hug.

This seemed to work as Yang finally sighed and relaxed. An additional apology or self-depreciating remark was what Blake expected Yang to return with, but her response of, "Thanks, Blake," brought a smile to the young Faunus' face. She disengaged from the hold and met Yang's slight smile with her own happy one. "Don't worry about it," Blake said, taking the jacket from Yang's hand. "Let's just get ready to go." At this, she donned the lighter cloth, showing Yang that she was ready to leave and that the recent confusion was already behind her.

Yang's smile widened as she put on her own jacket. As the blonde's spirits were lifting, Blake moved to prepare herself for her ride into the city, placing her weapon on her back and taking the helmets from the counter before returning to where Yang stood. "Ready?" Yang asked, seemingly more at ease with the previous accident. In reply, Blake smiled and handed her the yellow helmet. Yang smiled back. "Thanks."

Though this would only be Blake's second time riding a motorcycle in her life, she was noticeably calmer about the action this time. Getting the helmet on proved far easier than before and mounting the bike was far less intimidating. By the time Yang seated herself in front of her, the two were more than ready to depart and begin their day's expected fun.

Believing that Yang must have still been in an apologetic mood, Blake ensured that the action of wrapping her arms around Yang came across as more of a hug rather than necessary support for the ride ahead. It seemed to work to some extent as Blake could feel her girlfriend's muscles loosen and shoulders relax. Being this close to Yang and her happy aura made any remaining cold in the room vanish. The initial growl of Bumblebee coming to life only served to further this sensation.

As the two left the garage and ventured out into the cloudy, frigid countryside, neither was entirely sure of what they would do or where they would go. The only plan they had was that they would stay together through whatever was to happen. Blake held herself closer to Yang as the cold air whipped past them. She smiled warmly into the golden hair before her. She had no concrete itinerary and neither did Yang, but she didn't care. If she could be beside Yang, she would be happy with whatever events she would be thrust into.

---

The subtle murmur of ambient conversation was surprisingly audible over the constant hiss of the unmoving cars beside the couple. Wherever the two had parked, Blake couldn't be sure—judging by the ratio of vehicles to pedestrians, she knew that this part of the city was noticeably different from where she had been before. Even though the helmet was able muffle a fairly large amount of sound, Blake could distinctly hear the cars and conversation around her. Surprisingly, she found the noise to be calming in a way, acting as a sort of white noise to fill in the dead air of conversation while they sat atop the bike.

Blake unlatched herself from Yang, backed away, and watched the blonde remove her helmet before running a hand through her hair. Paying no mind to the potential awkwardness of the action, Blake simply stared as Yang fixed her appearance. There was something about the action that compelled her to watch—whatever that was is not known by her, but it can be said that an emotion not dissimilar to pride welled within the young Faunus. She was released from her awestruck stupor when Yang turned to face her, grinned, and said, "We're here. Anywhere you wanna go first?"

Having been suddenly brought back into reality and expected to reply intelligibly, Blake felt the need to stall for a moment as she did not have a response prepared. An adequate distraction, she found, came in the form of her removing her helmet and the time it took to do so, however brief that may have been. "Perhaps we should get off of the bike first and then we can decide where we can go." She was satisfied with this response but did not realize this playfully condescending retort and her faux indifferent demeanor were betrayed by her own unwitting attempts at fixing her own hair—an action she had seldom given priority to in the past.

Yang rolled her eyes and shook her head as she climbed off of the motorcycle. Blake soon followed after with a smirk. While Yang took her helmet so that she could secure both of theirs to Bumblebee, Blake was able to quickly finish any subconscious adjustments she felt the need to make. Having nothing left to occupy her time, she resigned to waiting, folding her hands in front of herself, and secretly reveling in the feel of the jacket against her fingers.

She didn't have to wait long as she quickly found Yang's arm coming to rest over her shoulders before pulling her close. "Okay, now that we're off the bike," Yang began teasingly, "is there anywhere you want to go?"

Blake sighed contentedly and leaned into the sideways hold. "Not really, no." Because there was nowhere near the amount of people walking the promenades here as there was in the other part of the city, Blake did not feel that her show of affection was being scrutinized in the least. In fact, she felt that even if there was any form of objection to her actions, it would not matter—she was too engrossed in being beside her girlfriend that she couldn't care for any sort of negativity.

"Great!" Yang chirped. "Then on with the tour!" Blake found herself urged forward by the arm draped over her shoulder. This push, however, quickly proved unnecessary as Blake happily moved to match the pace. She didn't pay attention to the concerned looks passersby gave for her initial stumble. She mistook them as potentially opposed to their relationship and ignored them as such.

It was odd to her that this immediate locale chosen for the tour looked to be more commercial than historical. This was only added to by Yang's frequent, enthusiastic comments about places that could hardly be classified as meaningful landmarks. "Hey, look!" Yang exclaimed. Following the pointed finger, Blake's attention was drawn to a building on the opposite side of the road. "You said you wanted to find a music store, right?"

Blake chuckled. "Yeah, but not right now." Before Yang could object, Blake continued. "You're supposed to be showing me around town, remember? We can come back to it later."

"Why not now? Think about it; it could be fun!" Yang's expression would have come across as pleading had it not been for the care-free smile she retained.

Shaking her head, Blake replied, "Not today, Yang. We got a late start and if we added a trip to the music store—however brief it may be—there wouldn't be much time left for the tour."

Whether or not this logic had any effect on Yang is uncertain because during this conversation, the two had passed over a crosswalk, creating an intangible divide that noticeably dismissed her previous insistence through the brief cautiousness that the short trek required. "Fine," the blonde sighed happily as she leaned against Blake, "I guess you're right."

Blake rolled her eyes, seeing this response as Yang changing the subject in a lighthearted manner in order to mask her crestfallen expression. Rather, this is what Blake thought the response to mean, when in reality it turned out only to be a means for Yang to focus her girlfriend's attention on another personal landmark. "And over there is a pretty awesome sushi joint," she pointed out. "Only got to eat there once, but I remember the food being really good. We should go there some time."

Blake simply smiled and shrugged. She was not opposed to the idea—she was supportive of it, actually—but at that moment, she wanted to move on with the tour. While she was enjoying Yang's company, she didn't want the blonde to guide her through an itinerary of restaurants at which they could potentially dine or stores they might visit—she wanted to learn something meaningful about the city. Partly, this was caused by the slow-moving traffic making its presence audibly known, in effect overpowering Yang's voice in the process and gradually wearing down Blake's composure. However, this was only a fraction of her desire to move on. Blake wanted to explore and enjoy the city, its monuments, and the day with her girlfriend, not reminisce about a restaurant.

If nothing else, though, Blake was patient. She would entertain Yang's memories for her sake. She was aware of how selfish it would seem if she rushed Yang while she was enjoying herself just so that the tour could move on to locations that she, herself, wanted to visit. None of this summer would have been possible had it not been for Yang, so Blake became involved in Yang's musings. "Perhaps we could eat there when we come back for the music store."

This caused Yang's subtle smile to instantly transform into a shining grin, causing Blake's own smile to widen in turn. "Sounds like a plan." Blake's choice to occupy her time by engaging herself in the conversation paid off from both hearing Yang's approval and seeing what was ahead.

Though it was a block away from their current position, Blake could see something off in the distance that was decidedly a historical monument. How she had not seen it before was reasoned to be due to her conscious preoccupation with Yang's presence. Now, however, she could see a grand statue towering just beyond the block. There would not be any telling change of facial expression to indicate her excitement; instead, her stride increased to the point where Yang had to suddenly compensate by increasing her own speed.

This quest for knowledge was in no way an attempt on Blake's part to distract herself from Yang. What this fascination was formed from was a desire to replicate her last trip to the city and recreate the joy that she felt during it. The relative rush forward was her attempt to force upon the two of them a series of situations that would create similar joy. When Yang offered the tour the night before, Blake regarded the option as simply a way for the two to spend some time apart from Ruby and Weiss. When she saw this distant statue, however, she knew that whatever was to come would doubtlessly create lasting memories in both of their minds—memories involving the two of them together. It was for this reason that Blake rushed forward, pulling Yang along with her. In her haste, Blake failed to notice the existence of pedestrians other than herself and Yang on the sidewalk.

The couple's progress was suddenly halted as Blake's shoulder met another figure's. The impact was startling, sufficiently grounding Blake back into present reality, but it did not physically harm her in the slightest. The figure, on the other hand, was sent spinning until his back hit the wall of a nearby building. It was not the collision of Blake and the black-clad man that stopped the couple, but the sound of his impact on the wall. As Blake looked worriedly at the result of her distracted state, the man growled and spat, "Are you blind or something? Watch where you're walking, princess." Before Blake could apologize, he stormed off, swearing under his breath all the while.

She stopped and watched him walk away. Blake was sorry for not paying attention and causing him the trouble, but she found it hard to remain level-headed once she heard him swear. She was able to stay calm, however, due to Yang who was evidently not calm. Through the leather jacket on her shoulders, Blake could feel Yang's arm heating up and when she looked at the girl, she found red eyes glaring a hole into the back of the man's head. Blake sighed. "Yang, it's all right."

Yang's gaze seemed to grow harsher. "Who does that guy think he is? He acts like he's king of the world and the second something bad happens to him, he gets to play the victim! He ran into you and couldn't even give you an apology—talk about a coward! I—"

"Yang," Blake interjected, causing the red glare to soften to a lilac gaze directed at her. Instead of saying anything, she just shook her head.

The blonde looked to where the man had once been and groaned. "Fine. But that guy owes you an apology. I won't go after him or anything, but I still think he's an idiot." She then turned to smile softly at Blake. "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you did he?"

"Yang," Blake sighed again, "it wasn't his fault. I didn't pay attention to where I was walking and I got in his way. What he said after was unnecessary, but he had every right to be annoyed. If anything, I'm the one who owes him an apology."

Yang sighed. "Blake," she said exasperatedly before smirking at her. "You're too hard on yourself; you know that?" This caught the Faunus by surprise. "You need to lighten up a little. Sure, the accident probably wasn't completely caused by him, but that doesn't mean you need to take the blame for it. I wasn't paying attention either; I could have moved us out of his way but I didn't. I don't feel like I'm the one to blame because it was an accident. I don't think anyone's to blame.

"But I still think he owes you an apology. With you walking next to me, it's hard to miss us—I mean, we do stick out in a crowd." Yang then casted glances to the few pedestrians around them as she absentmindedly brushed her blinding, yellow hair with her free hand. Hearing this, Blake's frown brightened into an amused smile, one that Yang must have taken notice of. "It takes a lot to make a guy spin out like that; he was probably trying to draw attention to himself." Yang then looked down at Blake with the same smirk. "I mean, you hit hard, but not that hard."

For the briefest of moments, a bright smile stretched across Blake's face. That is, this smile existed before it was replaced with a playful frown. Yang did not look the least bit surprised when Blake stepped away from the hold and punched her bicep. Instead, she laughed, "Nope. Not that hard at all." Blake rolled her eyes as she found her way back into the hold and moved ahead.

How Yang had managed to dismiss the apologetic thoughts so effortlessly was beyond Blake. She was thankful, nonetheless, but couldn't stop but ask herself if Yang was right. She instinctually gravitated towards the given ideas, but having spent her childhood in an organization that fought to remove the stigmata placed upon an entire race of people made it hard to accept in-the-moment rationalizations as fact. Even if Yang was teasing her about it, she knew that she was strong enough to significantly hurt another person. Though, Yang was correct in her knowledge that it took a greater force than she exerted to make a person spin like the man had. It was from this thought that allowed Blake to accept that the man had at least some responsibility in causing the accident. Yang's apparent involvement, however, was limited in Blake's mind only to her appeasing remarks after the incident.

She decided not to dwell for too long on the accident, having noticed the approaching statue. Her initial enthusiasm had calmed to an even happiness, focused more on Yang's presence than the impending monument. She took the subtle cold that still existed in the air as an excuse to move closer to Yang; no signs of definite affection could be seen by passersby aside from the taller girl's arm over her shoulder, but the affections existed doubtlessly.

This slow, even pace came to a gradual halt as the two neared a relatively small crowd amassing a distance from the statue. Blake had noticed the inching movements of the cars on the road beside them, but hadn't truly paid it any mind until she realized what the crowd was waiting for. Before the statue, acting as both the couple and the crowd's final obstacle before reaching it, was a road—a large roundabout as it were. Eventually, Blake and Yang slowed to a stop at a distance far enough away from the growing crowd that unease on the young Faunus' part could not set in. Blake was fairly confident that Yang was deliberate in keeping this distance.

It was immediately inferred that they and the crowd were waiting on some sort of signal to cross and that until that time came, a way to occupy one's time needed to be found. Since they had stopped and since Yang was such an amusing extrovert to be around, an idea of striking up a conversation, however superfluous, sparked in Blake's mind. Unfortunately, her smiling expression as she looked up to Yang was not missed by a member of the crowd ahead. The woman in question looked at Blake, scowled disgustedly, and began talking quietly to the person beside her.

Blake saw this response and faltered because of it. Her enthusiasm for conversation had dissipated completely. However, because she did not want to draw attention to either the woman or her own discomfort, she continued the initiated motion of looking up, but began inconspicuously looking around to the buildings above instead of speaking. She felt that in doing so, she would be able to get her mind off of the woman's look that only seemed to grow retroactively harsher by the second. This did not work as well as she hoped, causing her nonchalant gaze to become frantic and almost panicked.

Perceptive as ever, Yang seemed to take notice of this. She hummed, gaining Blake's attention. "I've always liked this place. Well, maybe not as a kid, but then again, what kind of kid likes to look at statues she's not allowed to climb on?" Blake's glances gradually lost their rapid pace and her analysis of the woman's look began to lose validity as Yang spoke. "I've never been out here after it rained, but I gotta admit, I think it looks better this way. I'm always up for a sunny day, but there's something about this weather. It makes it feel—I don't know—warmer?"

Blake expected to find Yang with a toothy grin due to what she believed to be a reference to their embrace, but instead found her looking around much like she had. Realizing her expectation and the lack of care now placed on that woman's look, Blake paused for a moment and then smiled. "It certainly feels that way, doesn't it?"

To some degree, Blake's response was meant as her own attempt at making reference to the embrace. To Yang's credit, she seemed far too engaged in the scenery to have gotten the joke. "Yeah. I mean, everybody looks miserable, but at least they look miserable together." Following where her partner had been looking, Blake saw a quaint café tucked into a street corner opposite their own. Even from her distance, she could see patrons hunched over their cups as they avoided speaking to one another while somehow seeming incredibly comfortable with their own present company. "Well, at least we're not miserable. And we're together! So the joke's on them, right?"

Blake looked up and laughed softly. In doing so, she was able to see the line of cars slow to a stop out of the corner of her eye. Yang returned her contented gaze in kind for a few long, peaceful seconds before taking notice of the moving crowd. Blake frowned momentarily—for what reason she could not be sure—before moving alongside her girlfriend.

While the other members of the crowd crossed in front of the stopped cars, the couple moved ahead towards the statue, Yang urging Blake to quickly make it to the opposite curb. Though Blake had very limited knowledge with roundabouts (once again relying on knowledge acquired from past literature and now previously seen pictures), she was almost certain that what they were doing was against some sort of rule in this particular instance. This idea was only reinforced by the two only just dodging an oblivious driver as they reached the statue. Blake looked at the car driving away before seeking Yang's attention. "Are we not supposed to be here?"

"Nah, probably not." Despite her admission, the blonde did not seem concerned at all. Rather, she began walking closer to the foot of the statue, bringing Blake with her.

"We should probably go back," Blake protested. "We might not be able to make it back to the sidewalk if we don't return now."

Yang looked down at her, making a show to move her eyes towards the road just behind them. When Blake looked back, the line of stalled cars had begun to move once again. "I think it might be a bit late for that," stated Yang.

Blake sighed, annoyed but not entirely frustrated. Figuring there was not much left she could do to remove herself from this legally ambiguous situation, she moved alongside Yang towards the foot of the statue, gazing up at it all the while. Standing before the couple was the golden representation of a decidedly important man. Though the statue was lifeless and of a singular, reflective color, something about the subject—his hair, his mustache, his expression; Blake couldn't be sure—exuded a definite age about him. Blake could imagine the greying complexion of the man who was eternalized in his faux-gold monument.

Yang headed for a plaque placed at the man's feet. Its presence was unexpected to Blake, but not necessarily off-putting. On the contrary, it relieved her to an extent to know that at some point a city planner had ordered this plaque to be placed here for the sole purpose of drawing people in to read it. They stopped before the plate, Yang leaning in to study it while Blake continued to gaze up at the figure.

Judging by the manner in which he folded his hands behind his back and the confidence that seemed to radiate off his appearance, Blake assumed that he would have a military background of some sort. Then again, he held an eternally serene smile. She was fairly certain that a war memorial would not have the lone figure smiling, but at the same time, she felt that the description was appropriate. What his smile meant intrigued her; the efforts of war usually prove to be less than altruistic, so the reason for his happiness was questionable. She could not remember an instance where a war hero was built a smiling, golden statue for his deeds. Perhaps it was a politicized monument rather than an actual monument. Blake sighed and looked to Yang, trying to get away from her tangential over-analysis.

Yang hummed in thought. "So, I guess this thing's a gift from Mistral for Vale helping them out a while ago." She leaned closer to the plaque, staring intently at something on it.

The statement caused Blake to raise an eyebrow. "You guess? I thought you came here when you were younger."

Yang returned with an incredulous look. "I was like seven, Blake. Do you honestly think I cared about history back then?"

Blake laughed. "Seeing as how you never fell asleep during Professor Oobleck's class, I wouldn't doubt it."

"How could I when the guy was flying across the room every second?" Blake laughed again, this time shaking her head, giving Yang enough time to return to her elaboration on the statue. "Anyways," she began, "apparently, a pretty important city in Mistral was attacked by the Grimm a long time ago and was almost destroyed. For years, Mistral's government threw everything it had at the problem, but nothing could stop the Grimm's attack. Somehow, Vale found out about this and sent over reinforcements. It doesn't say who the reinforcements were, but there were probably a lot of hunters and huntresses involved because with their help, Mistral won the fight."

This time, it was Blake's turn to hum in thought. "I think I remember learning about that war. Was that the one where the people of the city kept moving the outer walls into the city because the Grimm kept advancing?"

Yang gave her a flat look. "Blake, I'm just reading the plaque. This is all news to me."

"Sorry," Blake said, only just slightly disappointed with being unable to test her knowledge. "What else is written? Who is the statue of?"

Blake found herself pulled closer into the sideways hug as Yang continued to summarize. "I don't think it's of anybody that actually existed. The thing says that this was a gift from Mistral and the statue is a representation of Vale as a 'wise, loyal, and friendly kingdom.'"

The thoughts of the statue being a distastefully ironic recreation of an old general or politician were suddenly disproven. With this new information, the statue came to look less sinister and more benevolent by the second. Just as Blake was about to suggest moving on with the tour, Yang spoke again. "Wait," she squinted her eyes, "it says something else and I think it might be the name of this guy. Lind—whoa; I have no idea how to say that." She leaned even further forward, took a deep breath, and tried again. "Lin-dee-pen-dance do Ter-me. Yeah, I totally butchered that."

This piqued Blake's interest. Whatever Yang had said sounded vaguely, faintly like old Mistralian. The Faunus looked at the plaque, to the golden letters centered at the top of the slab of rock and read aloud, "L'Indépendance du Termi." It had been a long time since she last read the language, let alone speak it, so she was unsure of her pronunciation.

Yang blinked in disbelief. "What?" was all she could say.

Blake looked back in an expression purposefully unimpressed, but with an internal monologue cheering her memory. "It's in old Mistralian. It means 'The Independence of Termi.' Termi was the city Vale sent reinforcements to."

Raising an eyebrow, Yang looked to Blake. "That's cool and all, but how do you know old Mistralian?"

Blake shrugged. "I read."

Yang looked over at her, giving her an exasperated look. "I would've never guessed. Seriously, how?"

She shrugged again. "I'm not claiming I know it, I just studied the language years ago. For what it's worth, I probably butchered the pronunciation as well."

"Well, gee, thanks. That really makes me feel a whole lot better." Though her words could seem contextually bitter, Yang's growing smirk proved her demeanor to be quite the opposite. "You're such a show-off sometimes."

The thought of teasing Yang back by referencing the sunglasses she wore in battle from time to time occurred to her, but was decided against. Instead, Blake shook her head and said, "Come on, let's head back before we get in any sort of trouble."

"Fine, fine," dismissed Yang. Before Blake turned away, she looked once more at the statue, thinking about it in a different light. Satisfied with what she had learned here, the young Faunus with her girlfriend towards the curb of the island.

Without the statue before her, Blake's view became comparatively bleaker; all she could see was the endless stretch of asphalt darkened by rain and buildings of varying shades of brown. Almost everyone who was out, herself included, seemed to adhere to an exclusively muted color palette. However, with Yang and her sunny demeanor always in the corner of her eye, Blake never truly felt as though the setting in front of her was dreary. Rather, she found that being in the presence of her warm partner made the wait for the cars to stop to be quite a relaxing, serene experience.

At some point during their respite, Blake's head had come to rest against the blonde's shoulder. How long it had stayed there, she could tell. Unfortunately, she had only noticed her tilted view of the world when Yang abruptly said, "Okay, let's go." Before she could appreciate her position or even notice the stopped cars, Blake found herself running to reach the sidewalk on the other side of the road. This process would not take too long and was doubtlessly not taxing on her energy, but it was nonetheless a disorienting chain of events. However, she found her head resting the same way it had been with the only differences being that she could enjoy the closeness it induced and that they were now situated on the sidewalk rather than the center of the roundabout.

This new position, while naturally formed and indicative of the couple's sentiments, drew far more undue attention than their previous hold had. What had caused the disgusted look of one woman changed into an embrace that garnered myriad looks ranging from confusion to disdain and even outright loathing. Try as she might, Blake could not find complete safety in the idea that because she was with Yang—because she was in an ideal situation—she should not take heed of others' opinions on their relationship. She found that despite her efforts of being indifferent towards these people, they were getting to her and making her care more and more.

It seemed as though she was making direct eye contact with every person that passed her by. In their eyes, she could see them thinking the words "Monster", "Traitor", and even "Child". She could not differentiate the looks she was given because of her relationship from those she believed she was getting because of her heritage. As hidden as her Faunus traits were, she felt completely exposed to these people, inadvertently baring her soul to scathing gazes that persisted from horizon to peripheral. What she didn't notice was that at a consistently small distance away from the couple, the person looking at her would look forward obediently before quickly walking past, looking positively terrified.

Yang tightened the hold, diverting Blake's attention away from the scant number of passersby. "So, how's the jacket working out? It's not too heavy, is it?" Though Blake could not look up to see her face, she could practically hear the teasing grin from her voice.

Teasing tone or not, Blake had somehow come to forget that she was wearing the jacket. The initial feeling of comfort that she took from the fabric had not yet worn off, instead becoming such an ever-present sensation that it could dismiss any cold feeling or doubts that happened to arise. She smiled and closed her eyes, letting Yang guide her along as they walked. "It's great. Thank you for letting me borrow it."

"No problem." The teasing tone melted away and in its place came a genuinely happy one with what almost sounded like Yang becoming flustered. "I think it looks better on you anyways." Blake didn't much care if another person saw her blush at the compliment. This was Yang complimenting how she looked—this was high praise in Blake's mind. "Speaking of you," Blake couldn't help but internally sigh at this poor segue that immediately contradicted her previous thought, "how do you know old Mistralian again? And don't tell me that you read, because barely anybody knows how to speak that anymore."

Blake hummed her best representation of "I don't know" before thinking aloud. "I just happened to be interested in it one day and then I was hooked. There was something about the language that intrigued me." The look Yang gave her begged her to continue. "Any books I found that were written in old Mistralian were written well and flowed excellently. When I found someone who could teach me how say a few words in it, I found that not only did it look beautiful, but sounded beautiful as well. It never amounted to anything more than a hobby, though. As you said, hardly anyone speaks it anymore, so it would be pointless to continue learning."

"So learning a new language is a hobby for you?" She sounded amused, but somewhat disbelieving at the same time. "And here I thought building stuff was a productive pastime."

Blake laughed. "Yang, I could learn every language in the world and I still wouldn't have the faintest idea how to build a motorcycle." Her reassurance proved far more rewarding than originally expected. Not only did the action feel morally right, she could physically feel pride well from Yang in the form of her heat increasing momentarily.

She waited a few moments before speaking again, allowing Yang to bask in her praise if only for a second longer. "Since I was young, I've had a fascination with languages. The thought of becoming smarter with each learned language never crossed my mind, though. There were aisles of books in the local library back home that I couldn't read because they were written in different languages. I simply wanted to read more stories—to see the world from other perspectives—so I made it a point to learn those languages. Eventually, it formed into a full-fledged hobby, leading me to the point when I learned about old Mistralian."

A few seconds passed before Blake realized what she had said. She had only intended on giving Yang her reasons for knowing the language; the description of her childhood was unintended and she was unsure of how to react to this. On one hand, she desperately wanted to keep her old life separate from her new life, but on the other hand, she knew for certain that Yang could be trusted.

"I guess I understand. Well, if you studied languages for that long, how many do you know now?"

Blake found herself in a state of momentary disbelief. She had not expected anyone to care about her story, let alone show active interest. Because this was the present case, however, she was obliged to answer. "To be completely honest, I don't really 'know' any other languages. I used to be able to read a few and I could speak a bit of even fewer. I can apparently still read old Mistralian and pronounce a couple words, but I have no fluency in any of the languages."

"Still, it's pretty cool. They tried to teach us Atlan at Signal, but it never really stuck." Blake could feel the slight rise and fall of Yang's chest as she laughed sheepishly. "It would probably help to know it, but I guess I was too focused on Combat and Weapon Fabrication at the time."

Blake smirked. "At the time?"

"You know what I mean!" Yang sighed. "Besides, I have something better to occupy my time now."

Even with her amassed experience with Yang and her sense of humor, Blake was surprisingly oblivious to the statement's connotations. "And what might that be?"

"I don't know," shrugged dismissively, "it's just some girl. You might know her." Realizing who Yang was talking about, Blake blushed again, this time very much self-conscious of her flushed appearance but too flustered to do anything but clamp her eyes shut. "She has these really pretty eyes, she's really, really smart at things I didn't even know existed, she could probably take me down before we even begin sparring, and—oh, and did I forget to mention she's super hot too?"

Historically, Blake was not accustomed to being sincerely complimented. As such, she found it difficult to reply to this form of positivity that was given to her with anything other than a simple "Thank you." However, this specific response applied only to a singular compliment; Yang's description was both more extensive and meaningful, causing her to be unable to articulate an appropriate response. She believed that Yang knew this and had accounted for her present reaction. Blake was grateful and humbled by the praise, but at the same time, she knew that Yang must have been teasing her to some extent. For this reason, she willed her head off of her partner's shoulder so that she could send her a playfully defiant glare that lost any and all power behind it due to her heavy blush.

Blake saw clear conviction in her partner's eyes. The sight caused her challenging expression to nearly falter, but this was prevented by the simultaneous presence of her partner's subtle, impish grin. Before Blake could reply—rather, before she could form a proper response—Yang looked ahead and said, "We're here."

The young Faunus was immediately made curious and looked ahead. She had expected another stretch of road lined by off-white buildings and blooming neon signs hung along them. While this sight did exist, it could only be seen out of the corner of her eye. Fortunately, her attention was allocated solely to what was directly before her: the obvious 'here' in question.

Though it was the most organic place Blake had witnessed within the downtown districts of Vale, the park ahead was altogether more reflective than any of the manufactured structures she had seen thus far. Under the faint glow of an overcast day, everything within the park shined from the rain that had not yet evaporated. Both the grey of the crisscrossing concrete paths and the silver of the metal statues ahead looked to be of the same hue in this lighting. Even the leaves on the bordering trees and the grass of the fields shimmered with the passing of a soft breeze. It was hauntingly quiet; the ambient cacophony of the urban sprawl was gone, leaving the couple to hear only each other.

"Yang," Blake began, hesitant only due to the contrast between this place and the prior statue, "where are we? What is this place?"

She found herself moving forward, again being pulled along by Yang's horizontal grip. "Remnant Park," was her answer. "It's a memorial for a few of the more important battles from long ago with one statue for each war." Blake found that the path that they walked was leading them towards the first sculpture of what only appeared to be four or five within immediate view. "I actually know more about this place than the last since Ruby loved coming here as a kid. She never said why—actually, I never asked why—but I think I remember seeing her get really excited about this place after mom told her about the statues."

"She enjoys learning about the wars?" The idea wasn't too far a stretch, but Blake didn't believe it fit the young girl. She seemed to be engaged in her Grimm and History studies, but she suspected that Ruby's main reason for paying attention to these subjects was to get the upper hand in battle. Going to a park to learn about the wars at a young age did not lend itself to bettering her combat abilities.

Yang laughed. "No, no, no. I don't think Ruby listened to a single thing mom said about any of the wars after she was told that the statues were all made from swords." Blake looked at her with a raised eyebrow; elaboration was necessary. "Mom said that all of the statues here were made from the metal of fallen soldiers' weapons—at least, the weapons of the ones who didn't have families asking for the shield to be given back to them."

They stopped before the first sculpture, one depicting a soldier on horseback situated next to the corpse of what looked to be a Beowolf. "So, this," Blake began, noting the polished surfaces, "was completely made from recycled weapons?"

"That's what I was told. I thought that these were a bit too shiny to be made only from swords and shields, but I guess if you're going to make a monument for a war, you should probably do it right."

This sounded reasonable to Blake; besides, she wasn't going to question Yang's knowledge when it came to metalwork. If a group of people accomplished a great feat, she believed that they would have every right to commemorate it in some peaceful way and be proud of their achievement. Still, before she would accept the depicted feat as "great" or even noble in cause, she would like to know more about it. For this reason, she casually glanced at every angle of the statue visible from where she stood. Unfortunately, there was not a plaque to be seen.

Yang looked over at her attempts at nonchalant curiosity before looking back to the statue, smiling proudly. "This one is about our first war with the Grimm. Even though it was made hundreds of years after the war actually ended, they had to make the statue look really heroic so we could honor those who died."

"Well they certainly achieved a triumphant look with this." She thought that perhaps a comment on the inclusion of the fallen enemy was unnecessary. Yang seemed to enjoy this place. Because she did and because Blake enjoyed seeing her girlfriend's smile, she decided to counter her previous remark with one more positive in nature. "Yang, is there anything significant about the man riding the horse?"

Yang perked up at this question, smiling widely and showing that she was enthused to answer. "Yup! He's supposed to represent 'the combined efforts of humanity against the forces of evil', meaning he's not really anybody in specific. He's kinda…what's the word?" Her furrowed brows gave Blake the impression that her current thought was straining her. Unfortunately, she wasn't aware of where Yang was going with her story and thusly couldn't help. Fortunately, she didn't need to. "Got it!" Yang exclaimed. "He's like a metaphor for the good guys!"

Though Yang's expectant smile and attempt to relate her interests to Blake's was endearing, the Faunus could not help but giggle softly at the mistake. "Yang," she said, still laughing so that the mood would stay positive and Yang would not feel as though she was being insulted, "I think you mean he acts as an 'allegory.'"

Yang frowned, although not in a way that gave any indication of anger or legitimate despair. She groaned before laughing herself. "When are you not going to prove me wrong?"

Blake shrugged noncommittally.

"Fine," Yang groused playfully. "Let's see if you can prove me wrong on this next one." Before Blake knew what was happening, she found herself being pulled along the path once again, heading for yet another statue. They arrived quickly and Yang began. "This here is a representation of an ancient canon. Am I still right? Feel free to stop me anytime if I make a mistake."

She was still correct; the statue now before them was of an old cannon. Perhaps ancient was a bit too strong a word, but the technology was antiquated by this point. Still, the teasing, passive-aggressive way in which Yang replied warranted one of Blake's own. "Okay, Weiss," she responded nonchalantly.

Yang looked as though she was about to begin speaking when she suddenly stopped and shot Blake an amused glare. "That was a low blow," she stated before turning back to the statue. "Anyways," she began again, "this was the main weapon used in the war that created Vale in the first place. Everybody had rifles and swords by that point, but what really made the difference were cannons. The king's cannons knocked holes in the enemy's walls which allowed his men to seize the village that eventually became Vale."

Yang had left out a few major points in her summarization. Blake only thought this because she knew the story well. Were it any other king at the time, the town would have burned to the ground. Instead, though, the king at the time decided that since the opposition had put up such a good fight, he dedicated resources to improving the city. Eventually, he moved the capital of his kingdom here and named it after himself. But Blake would not say any of this. Yang seemed all too happy to be the source of information for once.

Yang looked to her inquisitively, apparently expecting some sort of correction. As Blake did not have one, she stared back in the same fashion. "What?" she asked. "You told me to stop you if you made a mistake."

Even the smallest smile from the blonde was radiant to Blake, but this one was more so than usual. As she maintained this expression, she looked to be in thought for but a fraction of a second before refocusing on Blake, saying, "Come on. There's one more thing I want to show you."

Surprisingly, Blake was not pulled along as she had been for most of the day. She smiled back at Yang, waiting for her to lead the way. "Well?" she asked expectantly.

The smile Yang held faltered for a few noticeable seconds before returning stronger than ever and accompanied with a laugh. While Yang's current demeanor and exuded aura were causing empathic reactions to take place, the analytical part of Blake's mind attached itself to the wavering emotion. She felt a push at her shoulders and automatically walked forward, but couldn't keep her mind off of what those few seconds meant.

The most immediate and concerning thought was that Yang was hiding something. Taking this assumption a step further, Blake entertained the possibility that Yang was doubtful in their relationship. Though this was objectively not the case, Blake had not come to this decision herself. This fluctuation occurred after Yang had told her that she wanted to show her something. This raised the questions: Was Yang hesitant to show her the referenced object? And if so, why?

These two questions spawned from the admittedly irrational premise that Yang was unsure about their relationship—rather, "unsure" could be replaced by "doubtful" or "unenthused", but Blake could not think of Yang this way. Her answer to these questions came in the form of the hours that the two had spent together as just friends and the time they had spent together as girlfriends. She argued against herself that because they had spent so much more time as friends than girlfriends, Yang might have become accustomed to their relationship at that time. Furthermore, a memory of Ruby telling her that Yang had "been through too many bad experiences" was recalled, causing her to assume that Yang felt the need to distance herself for her own safety—something that Blake could empathize with.

Yet the time they had spent today alone, walking through the city on a day where the streets were wet, the temperature was far below average, and the people were rude, proved to Blake without a shadow of a doubt that Yang was as committed to their relationship as she was.

Then what was the cause of that faltering smile? She thought for a second that it could have been contemplation, but she immediately ruled this out. She had seen Yang's "thoughtful" expression many times today and the look she had did not quite match. What it did match, however, was something that Blake was personally familiarized with.

On the morning of their first day as a couple, Blake had to will herself to even face Yang. The feeling of pressing herself to make the decision was adequately represented in Yang's questioned facial expression. Not only was this her assumption, but Blake believed that Yang was willing herself to do something. To what end, she could not be sure—only time would tell. Nevertheless, she felt that if the events of the day thus far were indicative of any decision to come, she would look forward to it with open arms.

As her analytical mind lost reason to dissect the situation any further, Blake was able to focus on what was ahead of them. She had anticipated these thoughts taking up some time, so she was not surprised when she was met with the next monument up ahead. What she was intrigued by was what the monument was. Unlike the other historical sites she had seen today, this monument was not a statue. What towered before them was a large, silver obelisk standing in what seemed to be the direct center of the park. Yang must have noticed her returned attention to the path before them. She said, "This is 'The Spire.' That's just what people around here call it, but really, it doesn't actually have a name. Go figure, it's another one of those 'symbolic representations' without a name."

The path they walked was leading them towards a corner of the obelisk, causing Blake to be unable to see if there was any sort of writing its sides. As such, she felt compelled to ask, "What does it commemorate?"

"It was built for those in wars long ago who we didn't know the names of as well as those who will eventually die in war." Blake frowned instinctively; the reason was rather bleak, but at the same time, it was interesting. She realized that this combination of intrigue and somberness was what one desired to achieve when visiting a monument like this.

"What about it do you want to show me?" Perhaps the question would take away the effect of any surprise that may come, but Blake would rather be prepared to console her girlfriend rather than it be sprung upon her. Some part of her expected Yang to know somebody who was honored by this monument.

The initial response she was given removed any worries she had. "I don't know. Every time I come here, I always remember everything about the trip. I can still see me standing next to mom and Ruby when we came here years ago." What had been a rueful smile turned to a warm one directed towards Blake. "I never want to forget this trip with you. And maybe if you see it, you'll never—" She stopped abruptly and began a new sentence, truncating any possibility of a desperate tone. "Anyways, come on. Let's go take a look."

"And maybe if you see it, you'll never forget this trip either," Blake finished in her mind. The thought was haunting. Did Yang believe that she would readily forget about the time spent with her? Yang had allowed her to forget her past life that she had longed to abandon, but couldn't bring herself to get away from. She had proven to be the best possible choice for a partner for her. Most importantly, she offered her a home and family when, for all intents and purposes, she had none. Blake would forget not forget today, nor would she forget any other day of this summer.

Blake didn't say anything in response—she knew that speaking wasn't her most honed skill in the world. Instead, to ease the distress that Yang must have been feeling, Blake wrapped the arm closest to the blonde around her back to find her opposite arm and entwined their fingers. Immediately, Yang let out a sigh of relief and flashed a smile Blake's way before moving around to one side of the obelisk.

Blake had originally thought that the structure was silver or chrome in appearance. However, from where she stood now, she could see that like everything else in the park, the surfaces were reflective, but far more than any of the other statues. It would not be hyperbole to state that the surfaces of the obelisk were comprised of mirrors. As soon as the two rounded the side of the structure, Blake was met with their reflected, embracing presences.

There were a great many things that caught her off-guard looking into the mirror, but it was her own expression that garnered her attention first. While she noticed that Yang had been smiling all day, Blake believed that her own appearance had been that of her regular, uninterested frown. The spectacle before her showed a version of her smiling shamelessly and perennially even though she could not feel her lips pulling upwards. She felt content as it was, but seeing herself this ecstatic was making her actual self emulate the shown emotions of the replica.

Her gaze then turned towards the reflection of Yang. As it did, Blake saw lilac eyes meeting her own in the reflection, causing reactions on both girls' parts reminiscent of timid children with innocent crushes. They each looked their separate ways with blushes flaring across their cheeks despite their embrace and the fact that they were already dating. Perhaps the reason for Blake's embarrassment was due to what she saw in those fleeting moments looking at not only her girlfriend's reflection, but her own as well.

The two in the mirror seemed so happy, so full of life that Blake had the same sensation she had felt reading many of her novels—the thought of "I wish that was me." What was wonderful about the sight was that for once, the person she desired to be was her and that she was living a life that she had yearned for. In those fleeting moments, Blake saw how beautiful Yang looked and how happy she seemed to be near her.

The thoughts of the morning were recalled, causing Blake to wonder what this prideful, excited, altogether blissful sensation was that she felt standing beside her girlfriend. She turned her gaze back towards the mirror, towards Yang's figure and met her eyes once again. This time, however, their stares did not break away from each other. Seeing the happiness that welled within the eyes of her partner caused Blake's breath to hitch. She knew that there was a word for what she was feeling and that it was on the tip of her tongue, but she could just not accept what it was.

Yang laughed, still looking at Blake through the mirror. "Yeah, I'm totally gonna remember this for the rest of my life." The two then turned their heads to look at each other directly. "Thanks for coming with me, Blake. Thanks for everything."

The subsequent seconds moved paradoxically quickly and slowly, being a period of time that was both far too fast for Blake's liking and slow enough to commit the moment permanently to memory. Whether it was by her own volition or Yang's nearing presence, Blake's head turned to face forward, causing her to watch the event unfold in the mirror. Yang had kept her head turned and had closed her eyes, unable to combat the feverish blush that graced her features. Her head lowered at an agonizingly slow pace, but even as it steadily descended, Blake could not fathom what Yang was doing until it happened. As much as Blake remembered about the event, she still does not remember whether she felt the warm, pleasant sensation on her head or if she saw Yang pressing her lips to the top of her head first. Either way, her recollection of her first experienced kiss from Yang gave her the answer she needed.

Love; she knew it to be fact. Everything about Yang, from her personality to her being was, in her mind, perfect. The warm aura she felt was home and the dreamy smile she was given as Yang rested her head atop her own was all the communication she could ever need. She was at a total loss for what to do, even if it was only a kiss on the head. The only thought that ran through her mind was the answer to her question. Love was that sensation and she felt it for Yang. Whole-hearted and unabashed love. She wanted to turn towards Yang, hold her close with both arms instead of one, and simply bask in the moment. Yet, all other motor functions had become unresponsive in her blissful stupor. She stared back into those amethyst gemstones that were Yang's eyes and treasured them, not knowing how long the moment was to last. She wanted to say something, anything, but couldn't; nothing would compare to the amount of compassion shown by that singular action. She wanted to cry, both out of joy at what she felt from the sight and out of sadness from not finding Yang sooner in her life. Yet all she could do was smile widely and openly at Yang.

The blonde sighed happily and laughed that musical laugh she always did, somehow causing the grin on Blake to widen even further. "I think we've visited enough monuments today. Why don't we go get lunch? I'm getting a bit hungry."

The blush on Blake's face could not fade away and she did not care about this fact in the least. She, too, laughed, causing Yang's smile to widen. Her own laugh, however, was less composed than Yang's in that the only word that could aptly describe the noise she made when laughing would be goofy. She had to force herself to reply and get over her momentary lapse in control. Her response came in the form of a stuttered, stupefied, "Y-Yeah, s-sure."

Yang nestled her head closer to Blake's as they turned down the path again and out into the city. This time, the two would walk just an extra bit closer on the way to their destination.

---

Hopefully the general happiness of this chapter came across well and contrasted the angst of chapter seven appropriately. If it felt as though much didn't go on in this chapter, that is what I was going for. While this is not meant to be a "filler" chapter (there was critical advancement to Blake and Yang's relationship), I thought that after the exposition in the last chapter, the story needed to calm down a bit before the lead-up into Act III. As such, I felt that a dreary, rainy setting would work well in this regard. Hopefully it turned out all right. As I said in the note at the beginning of the chapter, there were odd tonal shifts that I tried to iron out and rewrite.

Concerning the backstory of the historical landmarks, I do not intend for their descriptions to drastically separate the version of Remnant I use for this story and the canonical Remnant in the series. The purpose of these descriptions is to prelude the liberties I am going to take with both setting and character backstories in the chapters to come. If Blake and Yang's visits to these monuments came across as meaningless in the long run, then this would be fairly accurate. Admittedly, these monuments and their histories serve as precedent to what changes I am willing to make to the world. I hope that they aren't too outlandish and are able to be at least humored for this story.

One such change was the language I used for ancient Mistral. I apologize to any French readers if I wrote the title of the first statue incorrectly. It has been years since I last studied the language and I expect that I made some error in translation. If I did, I apologize and would welcome any corrections.

Finally, I must remark about the release of the next chapter and when I expect it to come out. At the end of the last chapter, I promised that this chapter would be released a month at most after. It has been two months since chapter seven has posted. I do not expect chapters to take this long to complete since I no longer have the obstacles in my way that I use to. However, I cannot guarantee any sort of concrete schedule. As with before, I will release the chapter two days after it is completed (These two days will allow me to correct grammar, continuity, and any other errors I find.). The chapter will be tentatively "complete" and be set for corrections when I feel that everything that should be in it is present and whole. The length it takes for this to happen is completely fluid. If I have a spark of inspiration, I could get the next chapter done within two weeks; if I come to be annoyed by the chapter and its contents, this will take significantly longer.

One thing must be made perfectly clear, though. I will not abandon this novel. I've given up one of my novels before and it haunts me to this day. Ever since, I have never once given up on a story I've begun to write. Valence will receive the same treatment and will be completed.

Thank you for your patience. Stay safe and stay tuned.