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.

15. Chapter 15: The Protest

Welcome back. I'm sorry about the wait between this chapter and the last, I really am. Leaving you all with a cliffhanger that has gone unanswered for more than a month was perhaps an error in judgment on my part as to how long this chapter would take to write. As I get my footing with writing Edelweiss and as well with swapping between the perspectives of Weiss and Blake in their respective stories, the chapters should become more natural to write and should be produced at a quicker rate. The fact that you all have stuck around despite the delay is something I cannot thank you enough for. So, once again, welcome back and thank you for reading.

Anyways, before I leave you with the chapter, there is a sort of disclaimer I should probably give. It should be assumed from this chapter's title that a protest will occur and will take precedence over the tale to be told. However, in light of current events and recent protests, it should be expressed that the protest in this chapter is in no way used as commentary on any topical issues. While literature has been perhaps the most influential of mediums to satirize cultural issues, the use of satire should be used tastefully and lucidly. With this chapter, open satire would be wholly inappropriate due to the nature of this story, and thus it is not represented here. There will be moments and opinions that do reflect historical protests and disagreements, but this chapter, when it was planned nearly a year ago, was not intended to satirize recent protests. Perhaps this explanation may seem unnecessary to some, but I'd imagine that there are others who might take this chapter the wrong way. If this proves to be the case, I apologize.

With that said, I should leave you with this chapter. Though it might not be the most light-hearted of instalments, I think chapter fifteen is a comparable addition.

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Chapter 15: The Protest

In the absence of rationality which has, up until this point, frequently characterized our tale's focus, an express explanation is perhaps in order so to detail the chief factor in the impending events ahead of time for the sake of clarity and convenience. In this way, an understanding of matters yet to unfold might be gleaned and later contrasted with a rather irrational, reactionary perspective. Though, it is not to say that our focal character serves a fallacious existence through her assessment. Rather, Blake would find herself at a point which logicality and reason would leave her at the glimpse of evoked fear.

Such was the effect had on her by the White Fang protest. Of course, there had been multiple instances of conflict and combat involving the tenebrous group and the do-good team, but this particular protest would lead only to the former, never the latter. For Blake, the concept of this style of protest was reminiscent of her induction and indoctrination, matters harrowing to the observable outside and haunting to her perceived psyche. What is more is that while the association was doubtlessly there between the protest and the organization, no formal affiliations were set. This meant that the protest and all its bellowing members were not members of the White Fang but fought for its cause, however blindly. Secondarily, this would mean that conflict and combat would be wholly unjust, no matter how argumentative or spiteful this unarmed crowd would become.

It should be understood the denotations of "protest" in this case are only superficially comparable to what you understand to be "protests" in your war-averse world. In the case of a protest in a world oppressed by war which cannot be retreated from without extinction, and more specifically a "White Fang protest," the tenets of peace and insistence are usurped by the necessity for outrage and outrage vocalized—loudly, incessantly as would be necessary to communicate to preoccupied Remnant. Of course, the motives of equality and righteousness were prevalent but were seldom tantamount to vindication. The logistics and cooperation involved in these protests were verily akin go those you might expect of a protest, but these matters were mere superficialities beside the concepts of purpose and goal. Whereas the purpose of a protest in your society might be to further an ideal deemed just by those involved, the fundamental disparity held by a "White Fang protest" was the duality in purpose split between furthering a just cause (that of equality) and appeasing the older brother organization.

Because this particular protest was unconnected with the organization in ledger yet titled itself after them, it should give an indication that some sort of wishful sentiments existed with the protesters that the actual White Fang—that feared, revered group—might reveal themselves and aid the effort with their numbers and (what was never spoken about but always dreamed) weapons. But this would be denied upon every inquiry. In fact, a direct association would be assured to any inquisitor prior to an outraged castigation by all surrounding members of the numerous crowd.

From this, it should be explained that a "White Fang protest," a Faunus Rights protest, and a protest by the White Fang are all three separate matters. The two safest ends to this spectrum were the Faunus Rights protests and protests by the White Fang. In the former regard, these types of protests were much akin to what is expected of a protest and peaceful demonstration; many solid points were made and were subsequently heeded by lawmakers and politicians. These sorts had been Blake's intent in joining the White Fang. But in the latter regard, the regard which she had unfortunately aligned herself with, the protests were structured endlessly and executed with military precision. All members in these types of protests were true White Fang members, garbs and all, and their causes were usually direct in the form of strikes, boycotts, and general disruption. But they were safe protests nevertheless because there was definite structure and purpose to them.

"White Fang protests" unfortunately meant a lack of structure and purpose. Their goal was consistently disruption, but the protesters would never admit to this fact, instead claiming that they were fighting for wage increases or better working conditions for the Faunus. While these were admirable sentiments to be sure, they were outright lies from the mouths of the crowd and Blake knew this for fact. They wanted to become White Fang members but did not want to accept the rigidity and ferocity required of the organization. They were imposters at their most basic level and were even more misguided than the organization itself. The White Fang was destructive, yes, but such was their intent. These were people who unwittingly harmed the Faunus cause and discredited the validity of the already successful styles of protests for Faunus Rights. Truthfully, it should not be beaten around the bush to say that these protesters—rather, agitators to use Blake's intended descriptor—deserved no sympathy or alliance.

So it is to say that this present protest, the source of the cantankerous roar from beyond the obscuring corner, was neither run by the White Fang nor exclusively dedicated to the Faunus Rights movement. Instead, it was one of the tentative riots which were unduly named "White Fang protests" and shall be referenced as such throughout the course of this tale, despite the false moniker.

They were an angry bunch, excluding to even their own kind if political beliefs did not perfectly align, and there were many. A mélange of pickets and banners and streamers and slogans all guided by furious drive swarmed one of the city's nearby arterial streets as would an army of ants tend to do (with no flippancy to chosen diction in this regard). Myriad defining characteristics covered their bodies from ears to tails to horns and even wings on a scarce few, yet the constant was of their countenances, all sporting scowls and contorting to personally offended screams and jeers to anyone who might observe.

They shouted only propaganda, never their cause. Roars of "Remember Menagerie," "Bite the hand," and "Take back what you stole" echoed through the paths of the city's layout. Further chants were repeated too far away for any coherency, but Blake knew the cadences by heart. They were all under the influence of the White Fang's word yet were not bound to obedience or order. They used these slogans as though their repetitions would combat an idea when the propaganda had been designed only to indoctrinate and motivate. And as they wore their white t-shirts in homage to the organization, they proved themselves wrong.

"Blake?" Yang would ask, standing beside her partner as they watched the impenetrable flow of crowd members pass them by. Because Blake's ears were still unbound and because she did not carry the bow which had kept her from this specific situation before, her ears folded back, flush against her head, so to appear human beside her human girlfriend. "Do you have any idea what this is about?"

The young Faunus held a look of fear—not one of petrification or anxiety, but rudimentary uncertainty which plagues all in times when the imposing is met. She simply stared at the crowd, watching them march and listening to them shout not ten feet away. Blake shuddered and all but whispered her reply of "It's a White Fang protest."

Upon uttering these words, a wave of displeasure washed over her. It had been her intent in running away from the organization to avoid this sort of situation. She could argue against the White Fang itself and even fight them openly, but these were civilians who were unmoving in their positions. Moreover, these were a people so lost in what to do that the only thing they know how to do as a collective was fight. Argument would be met with argument and combat would simply be criminal since they were unarmed.

"White Fang? But where are their masks? What about their weapons?" asked Yang.

Blake continued her whisper, knowing that amongst the crowd there was bound to be another with enhanced hearing. "It's a technical term—an inside joke from the White Fang."

"Well, this doesn't seem funny! They're blocking my bike!"

The crowd of indefatigable size obstructed the intersection which the couple had intended to cross. How they had not heard this prior to their excursion into the music store was uncertain, but the crowd was there now to the chagrin of both the blonde and the blaring traffic on all sides of this protest.

The goal now was of avoidance, of staying away from this crowd and out of their sight. Unfortunately, their current position opposed this concept, leading to Blake's question. "Yang, is there any way we can walk to the restaurant?"

"Yeah," the blonde responded with no small amount upset. "That was kinda the point. We're over here and the bike's over there, and you know what else is over there? The restaurant."

She was annoyed, very much so in fact, but not angry. There was a calm to her upset, as though she were aware of the relative unimportance of dinner. It was likely she understood the severity of this situation with her occasional glances to her furrow-browed partner. However, she would not be one to forfeit a date due to perceived inconvenience (which was instead realistic danger). Their goal, Blake now understood, should be of retreat. As such, she countered her partner's indignity by saying, "Yang, we need to leave. We need to get away from this protest and come back when they're gone."

Yang sighed. "It's fine. We can just wade through them, right? I mean, I don't see the end to this thing and we don't have much to do if we want to wait. And besides, if we come back later, we might not be able to get a table at the restaurant. Pushing through can't be that difficult."

"Yang, no," Blake insisted, panic quietly evident in her tone. "If they see me, they will surround us. If they see you with me, they might pull us apart."

"Yeah, but that's what these are for!" She quickly extended and retracted one of her gauntlets, making a show of its presence.

"No, we are not fighting them."

"Okay, fine. Calm down." With Blake's insistence, the Faunus' tone had grown sharp, causing her partner's recoil. However, Blake could not feel regret for this shift. Her intent was not to keep Yang's spirits aloft, but instead simply to keep her safe. Yang's ideas, unfortunately, were contradictory to her partner's efforts. "Are you sure we can't just walk through?"

"I'm positive. Don't you hear what they're saying about humans? They want nothing to do with you, and if we walk through them, they will undoubtedly turn hostile."

"Blake, I think you're overthinking this."

"I'm not," Blake pressed, focusing her frown on her partner. "I've seen this type of protest before and participated in a few myself. They aren't the type of people who will let you walk through. If you go near them, they will expect you to join their cause, but if you aren't a Faunus, they will throw you out."

"Then how are we going to get to the restaurant?" The question was rhetorical in nature and served only to pinpoint the blonde's motive. "We had this whole thing planned out and our date was going great, and then these guys showed up. Now, I'm fine with the whole equality thing—honestly, you're a better person than I'll ever be—but I'm not about to stand around and let our date fizzle out just because we shouldn't move through them. We have as much a right to this road as they do, and if we can push through, then what's the big deal? Sure, it'd probably be wrong to get in the way of them while they're doing their thing, but it's also wrong of them to get in our way. I say we push through."

Blake could not help gawk at the absurdity of this idea. Usually, she was fine with her partner's plans and the miniscule slant of irrationality they held, but this was simply unreasonable. "Yang, the ends do not justify the means. If we push through, we would only be placing ourselves in harm's way. Though the crowd may seem large, it's not infinite and will pass quickly. I'd imagine it will take at most twenty minutes. We could go back into the music store and look around a bit longer or just walk for a while, but pushing through would only upset them further. Yang, we really do need to leave them be and return when it's convenient."

Yang had a pensive expression about herself, one of a lowered frown and focused gaze. It should not take much thought to come to this decision, Blake believed, but all parties involved were the stubborn types. She believed that Yang was trying to will herself into accepting this minor inconvenience and was having a difficult time.

But perhaps this decision seemed simple only because Blake knew the crowd and what it stood for. Yang had no experience with these sorts of protests and worked only off of her experience with people and emotional reactions. The decision was simple for Blake because she only wanted to see Yang safe. She was a strong girl indeed and could probably face the verbal abuse of the crowd and come out unscathed, but Blake did not want her to go through that regardless. She had seen the way these people could treat outsiders and it was chilling. For such a warm force to brave the darkness of this crowd would be foolish and something Blake wished to prevent. As Yang had protected her, Blake would protect in kind.

In a matter of moments, where the noise of the crowd seemed to grow louder still and as its center reached the intersection which the two stood before, Yang came to her unfortunate conclusion. With a sigh, she said, "Blake, I'm sorry, it's just…It doesn't make sense to me. If you want to wait for them to pass, that's fine, but I'm gonna go get us a table before the restaurant gets too crowded. I'll come find you when I get us on the list, but I can't wait here knowing that our date's gonna end badly."

"But we'd only have to wait twenty minutes!"

"Listen," Yang said with a frown, "sometimes you just need to be aggressive about what you want. You can't always wait around for the opportunity to pop up or for it to come to you. You know that and they know that—that's how you asked me out, right? It really is getting late and if we wait twenty minutes, we won't be guaranteed a seat. It's not a super popular place we're going to, but it's still going to be packed.

"Remember how Weiss had to throw her name around when we tried to get a seat at Flaherty's? We weren't going to be able to eat there unless we had a plan. I don't have what she has, so I can't go in and throw my name around. I have to be aggressive, Blake, and get on that list before everyone else decides to. And I'm not going to let this go because this is our date—your date—and it's not going to go wrong on my watch. So, if you want to wait it out, that's fine, but I'm getting us on that list." The blonde gave an apologetic frown before releasing her girlfriend's hand. "I'm sorry, Blake."

She walked towards the crowd, bearing no hesitation or fear in her steps. Blake could not see her eyes, but she knew that there was confidence burning in them as there had always been. Yang was a walking definition of warmth and conviction and saddened her partner upon her leave. Perhaps it was because of this sadness which trumped the difficulty told by memory that Blake called for Yang to wait. The blonde turned and her partner said, "I'll come with you."

"Are you sure? What about all that stuff you said about this being dangerous?"

"Well, if you're not going to pay attention to that, why should I?" Blake sighed, releasing her bitter intention. "I'm sorry, Yang. I just don't want to see you get hurt, and if you go into that crowd alone, I can't make sure of that. You're my partner and I promised that you'd never be alone. So, if you must do this, at least let me help."

Yang strode back to her partner and immediately wrapped the Faunus in a strong hug, drawing Blake into the leather of her jacket and easing somewhat the tensions between them. "Don't feel pressured into doing anything you don't want to. If waiting means that much to you, then find someplace to hide out and we'll meet up in twenty minutes. But if you want to come, you'd be more than welcome."

The shorter of the two clutched her partner's form, knowing that there was a very high likelihood that this attempt could go awry. It was doubtful either would be hurt, but Blake simply needed to let Yang know that she would be by her side. "This isn't something I can let you do alone, so I'm with you. But I need you to follow my directions exactly, or else we might not make it to the restaurant in time."

"All right, sounds like a plan. What do I need to do?"

Blake took a composing breath, motivating herself into accepting the challenge before her, and rested her head against Yang's chest, hearing the elevated heartbeat caused by excitement. "We won't be able to show any affection for each other in any small way—no smiles, no laughs, no conversation at all—but we need to stay connected to one another by holding hands—that way, we won't be separated. We're going to move with the crowd as we cross the street and will more than likely find ourselves a ways away from our intended destination. But whatever we do, we can't disrupt this protest or they will all turn on us. That's simply how they are."

"All right. So, we'll just act natural, like we're one of them?"

"Yes," Blake said but knew that this would never be achieved with her Faunus traits still on display.

"Okay." With this, Yang lowered her head and kissed the spot between her partner's upper ears and Blake could feel her smirk afterwards. "You know, I'm actually getting a little antsy about this whole thing. You're making it seem like they're gonna attack us." It was a distinct possibility, but Blake chose not to worry her partner any further. Eventually, Yang would pull away and so too Blake before the former asked, "Are you ready to do this?"

The answer was no, but Blake nodded regardless. They found each other's hands, gripped tightly, and began to move towards the cacophonous mass.

Slowly—so slowly that time seemed to crawl to a mere trickle—the two made their way through the crowd, parallel at first to their opposition, but gradually they would intersect. There had been a split second where Yang had attempted to take in the faces of those surrounding, curiosity unfortunately getting the better of her. Fortunately, Blake was able to suppress this with a warning squeeze to her hand. The crowd members were Faunus and hostile ones at that, not amusing sights in the least. Shoulders were bumped, elbows incidentally thrown, and over-enthused cries yelled which disturbed the hearing of the young Faunus. But she would persevere and brave this crowd for the force that had made this feat possible.

The act of moving through this crowd and across the street which could not have been more than fifty feet wide was laborious and hair-raising. Many amongst the crowd chose to remain silent, keeping their quiet fury in the form of glares focused on a distant goal. As such, this was the expression Blake adorned and the one she hoped Yang would mimic without being cued. As they pushed through and with the crowd, many openings which had not previously existed were created between the grumbling protesters with no expression of apology.

Those who chanted their chants chanted louder and with greater fervor, screaming collectively the all-too-familiar "Your sins are our lives!"—a stance coined by that orator Blake had failed to defend in the southern reaches of the kingdom years ago. To her, this crowd was now evidently liable to turn hostile at even the slightest of uncertainties, and she was in the middle of it all with Yang in hand.

For the most part, their travel had gone unrestricted, excluding the times where the aggression—or, rather, assertiveness—Yang had spoken of was called upon to push through more obstinate groups. For every foot gained in crossing the road, five more were added laterally. Though this might seem a frustrating ratio, the fact that progress was being made at all made Blake all the calmer.

But this calm would eventually leave her and it would leave her quickly. Such was the effect of a misstep, a flummox, a slip of emotion, and a twitch of a telling ear. Upon hearing the strained grunt of her partner who had run into an unaware protester, Blake's instinctive worry took hold and caused her to suddenly look behind, catching the attention of those around her and proving that a bond was shared between herself and Yang.

The crowd stopped. Rather, the surrounding portion of the crowd came to a bewildered halt while those ahead continued and those behind slowed. Yet to the perspective of Blake, it seemed as though this entire city now turned on her with immediate hatred burning in their eyes. For all intents and purposes, this could be said to be the case, for there were hundreds of these people glaring at her—thousands, millions! She could not be sure of the count. All she knew was that this stomping, chanting group grew nearer, pulling the thread of the sweater Yang's confidence had knitted and exposing the young Faunus to the cold of her past made present. They grew louder to her unfolded ears and battered through the barricade of personal space, drowning her in the sea of failure which she, herself, imagined. She had been doing so well! Now she was paralyzed by her own cowardice as she scanned the uncertain looks of those around her.

No one spoke, not yet. A circle had formed around the two and stared at the girls while Yang stared at Blake. A squeeze of the hand brought the girl in black out of her shadows and into the harsh light of reality. She was met with frowns on all sides, hesitant expressions from the thirty or so immediate crowd members and a caring look from the golden girl, one unmoved by the stares around her. Blake would look back to her, fear in her eyes and a frown of her own as she waited for the inevitable attack.

"You aren't one of us," a man from the crowd said slowly, taking his time with his words. Blake tried to locate the noise's source but found only the immediate circle. The crowd itself would speak to her with many voices chiming in when a different perspective was deemed necessary. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

There was a brief pause, short enough for the crowd to understand that the question had been heard but long enough that an obvious hesitance had settled over the two. Blake would not speak—rather, could not speak due to the number of people that now surrounded her. Yang seemed to pick up on this fact and spoke for her, facing the crowd with as sunny a grin as she could fake. "Sorry, we're just passing through. We're kind of in a hurry and need to get home."

"He asked who you are," said another voice.

"Uh, we're just a couple huntresses—a couple of huntresses—from Beacon."

"Names," the crowd demanded.

At this, Yang's smile fell away. "Why does it matter?"

A murmur of discontent arose from the masses, proving that uncertainty ran rampant among these people and that debate as to what they would do was occurring. A feminine voice spoke up, distrust evident in her tone. "Because you interrupted us. Because you don't have any manners. Because we don't know yet if we can just let you go."

"But what's a name got to do with that?" This was defensive and rightfully so. The crowd doubtfully saw the slight squeeze of the hand Yang gave to her partner, but Blake sure enough noticed its effects. The young Faunus was drawn from her paralyzing fear by the force that had so often protected her in this way. Although, it is not to say that her fear was entirely lost.

There was a contemplative pause, as though the group itself was silently coordinating and reaching a consensus. Eventually, the voice that spoke first spoke again. "What are your traits?"

"My what?" Yang's question, as genuine as it was, caused Blake's breath to catch in her throat. This was a trial set by the crowd and the blonde had just failed. If ever there was a moment when the crowd might attack, this would be it.

A collective scowl crossed the crowd's expression. "Are you a Faunus or are you a human?"

"I'm uh…" There was no right answer Yang could give. "I'm a Faunus…?" But there was certainly a wrong answer.

Suddenly, the scowls sharpened and the crowd grew visibly restless. "You are a liar like every other human," the voice claimed. Grunts of affirmation chorused from the surrounding mob, making Yang's expression still yet warier and Blake's more quietly afraid. "So, why are you here, then, liar?"

"We're just passing through, trying to get home." This was the truth, but Blake knew that these were the type of people who would not listen to any truth but their own.

Upon hearing this, the crowd closed ranks, eliminating whatever empty space was left between them and preventing the girls' escape. A different voice, another Faunus, spoke. "You just want to pass through and step all over our cause? How considerate."

It was a delayed response, but now the crowd was finally turning on the partnership. It was as Blake had seen before: these zealots noticed a hint of instability and would attack it without consideration of the opposing viewpoint. In many ways, these people were like the White Fang with their credos and fervor, but they lacked restraint and paradoxically enterprise as well. They could argue their positions with perhaps even greater energy than the White Fang itself, but they would never fight in the same way—protests were as far as they would go, lobbying for change rather than proving their worth like so many on Remnant did. But even still, these protests were nothing to laugh at, and it is such the reason why Blake could not keep a composed state of mind.

There was an uneasy intensity which racked Blake's nerves, like that of an uncomfortable fire burning too close to the skin with all its blinding shine and smothering smoke. It was an inability to breathe—not caused by the physical laboriousness of the action, but by the knowledge that if she were to breathe, she would be scrutinized by all around her. There were the jarring memories, of course, but the present converged on her position from all sides and inspired a jittery feeling. She was, without consent, being thrown into a mission of crowd control and protection, and though the latter was tolerable because of who was being protected, the former had been her historic anxiety.

"Look," Yang said, an edge of impatience serrating her word, "we're not trying to cause any trouble, all right? We're just trying to pass by and you guys just happened to be in the way. I'm sorry if we're causing you trouble, and we'll get out of your hair as soon as possible, but there's no need to fight with us."

From far back in the crowd which had altogether come to a halt and formed around the two, a Faunus shouted, "That's what we've been saying for years!" This was met with a few cheers.

Another voice spoke up, this one from the immediate circle. "You aren't sorry, liar. You humans never are, never will be. You don't understand the meaning of 'sorry.' Sorry's having to go into a job interview and apologizing for having 'big, stupid rabbit ears' and meaning it. Sorry's having to go all the way through school and hating yourself the entire time for the way you were born because it made you an obvious target. Sorry's knowing that all your human friends you thought you had were only around because they felt bad for you and knowing that you were wasting their time all along. You humans don't get that—you don't get 'Sorry.'"

Yang sighed. "Hey, I'm sorry you've had a rough time—"

"Stop using that word!" someone snarled. "It means you understand what's going on, and you don't, human. You couldn't possibly understand our 'rough time.'"

"Okay, fine. Whatever. Just let us go and we'll never see each other again. Does that sound like a plan?"

"Oh, I know you would like that, human. You'll be able to sleep well tonight, not thinking about anything but what a bright future you'll have without us bothering you."

"All right," Yang began, eyes fringing upon their scarlet hue, "can we stop it with the name-calling?"

"Would you rather we called you something you're not, human? You are a human, aren't you?" This argument was continued by another amongst the group. "And besides, your kind's been spitting the word 'Faunus' at us for years. If we can take it, it's not like you can't handle a little name-calling." The previous speaker then sneered, "Or maybe that is what's going on. Maybe Beacon doesn't train warriors, after all. They just give guns to kids and let them run amok and go on their adventures. Maybe we shouldn't call her human, but kid—or better yet, little girl. That's all you are, human: an entitled, bratty little girl given a gun so that she can be even more reckless. Did I get that right?"

It was at this point that Yang's patience had reached its breaking point. "You really don't have any idea of what you're talking about."

"No, we do. We've all seen it before. It's the same thing over and over again with you humans. You think that just because you outnumber us, it's okay stomp on everything we hold dear and take away any chances of us taking it back. But when we do the same to you, it's suddenly wrong, suddenly criminal. No, little liar girl, I do know what I'm talking about. I doubt you could even comprehend the meaning of hardship with your pampered life here. You know nothing of loss like we've suffered."

"Really, now?" Yang asked with a plainly disinterested expression.

Blake wanted to reach out, to help her partner who was taking the brunt of an assault that should have been the young Faunus' alone, and even still the blonde was inviting more offense. They were wrong and Blake wished to speak out against all of this, but she was trapped in her own mind by the sounds of thunder and stomping and gurgling coughs that strained the final breaths of so many she had not been around to lead. And yet she watched this display, mortified for her girlfriend as the crowd grew angrier.

But at the same time, as Yang drew the disdain of her aggressors, a fleeting sensation of opposition came to the young Faunus' mind, not against the protesters, but against the blonde. But it was a fleeting notion, after all, and not one to be minded when a struggle was occurring before her.

"And what's this?" the crowd asked. "Who's she and why is she with you?"

They were referring to Blake. For all her care placed on Yang and the comfort returned in kind, the young Faunus would still recoil instinctively at attention turned her way by such a large group. The glares now focused on her, and in her haze, she could only see these as expressions of betrayal, as though she had forsaken them somehow by standing beside Yang. Although she was strong in her convictions, her base of confidence was shaken and thus caused her immobility.

"She's none of your business. Back off." Whether Yang's involvement was a blessing or curse in this instance was yet to be seen, but that oppositional sensation returned briefly to her partner's mind.

"She is our business. She's Faunus and we are family. If we allow her to stand beside you, then it would be the same as throwing our child to the wolves—to the animals." The crowd then turned its focus on the girl in black, treating her as though she were a lost toddler holding hands with a stranger. "What is your name, child? Why are you with this human?"

"Hey! I said back off! We aren't interested in getting to know you."

Yang did not receive so much as a glance. "We know what you said, human, but like all your other words, they mean nothing." They never took their gaze off of Blake. "Now, please, young one, tell us your name. We're on your side and don't want to see you harmed."

Upon her silence, another voice was raised from the crowd. "She won't speak! The human has her scared into submission!"

"No! Don't be a fool! She's been harmed. The humans tortured her into silence!"

"Do you see any marks?" a third Faunus asked. "Of course she hasn't been harmed! There's something deeper going on here. Her eyes scream fear and her face says doubt, but she's still standing in front of us. She's calling for help!" A concurring row was raised among the crowd, amounting to a near roar like the animals they so vilified but often acted as. If one merit could be permitted to the White Fang despite all its evil, it would be that they never played with their food.

"You're the ones scaring her!" Yang shouted, somehow overpowering and silencing the surrounding thousands. She did not say anything immediately after, being about as stunned as Blake was that this group could be affected in such a way, but if this silence were to linger, weakness would be shown and Yang seemed to understand. "We were just trying to get home and you guys had to make a big fuss about it. She doesn't like crowds, never has. I was making sure she was all right and you all had to butt in and make us feel bad. You aren't her family. She already has a family and I'm part of it."

"Now you don't know what you're talking about, little girl. Talk about hypocrisy!" Yang released a low growl as the heat radiating off of her climbed in short bursts. "Her family is with the Faunus—she was born that way, not human, and she should have nothing to do with you. And the White Fang is her family, too. You said that you were trying to protect her when we 'butted in,' but the way I see it, we're saving her from you. You don't know anything about the world, about the pain we have to endure. Have you ever been locked in a cage and starved to the point of giving in before being fed just the right amount of food to keep you alive? That's what she looks to be feeling right now and what we had to go through. The White Fang's her family now and we'll make sure she never has to suffer again."

They were liars, delusional libelers borne of Apocrypha and insistent of change. They were not the White Fang and never would be. They were as cowardly as Blake but as baseless as the organization's leadership. They were the true children with guns, slinging their slanderous virtues every which way and caring not for collateral damage. With each word they spat and every consensus they reached, they were furthering the detrimental cause of their savior organization—their "family." This was not a fury on Blake's part forged by offense or the desire to correct, but a defensive instinct that could rival Yang's own. She had been right, the blonde; Yang was family, regardless of biology.

The young Faunus' hands balled into fists, straining her knuckles white, as her listless gaze hardened and galvanized into a wholly outraged glare focused on the pavement below. Slowly, she would move this expression toward an inconsequential member of this crowd, a deer Faunus with antlers displayed proudly, and she would see him shake his head in pity—not out of sorrow for Blake's anguish, but sorrow for the fact that her anguish still existed despite him trying to help. A scowl burned across Blake's features as an animalistic growl rumbled in the back of her throat. Just as that man attempted to speak, she cut him off with a shout of "You are not the White Fang!"

This shout was not one that could be dealt to either Weiss in her ignorance or Yang in any state. Rather, this shout which roared from the reserved Faunus was that of the years of pain she had suffered in the search for even the slightest glimpse of hope that the White Fang's efforts were for a just cause. This was the shout that had been chained for ten years and now it broke free, unleashing its wrath upon these quisling monsters.

The man with the antlers spoke again, attempting to calm the young Faunus. "No, no. We are. We've worked for Faunus Rights for years and we've all been under the same flag. You can trust us."

"I've seen the White Fang, and you're nothing more than cowards!" A few discontented murmurs could be heard amongst the crowd, but Blake could not care. They would likely turn on her, too, but so had the organization. If she could live with her own horrors, their offense would mean nothing in comparison. "You speak about Faunus Rights while trying to split away from humanity. You're running away from your problems, away from equality. You want segregation. You want stereotypes. You want nothing to do with Faunus Rights, except you lie and say you are fighting for Faunus everywhere."

"We are!" the crowd shouted back. "Their sins are our lives and if we can't get rid of the humans, then we have to get away from them. We can't live under oppression forever, and if escape is the only way to make sure we can live our lives, then that's what we'll do."

"And you'll drag the entire Faunus race with you? Menagerie was destroyed over a century ago! There's been great progress in the Faunus Rights movement and we are able to find jobs and families alongside humanity. No one's being caged or starved! Those are just lies the White Fang's been feeding you."

"We are the White Fang!"

"I was White Fang, and I can tell you with no doubt in my mind that whatever this is would not be tolerated. You don't care about anonymity, about goals, you only care about making your voice heard and making those around you cave to your ideals." Though Blake could not see it, her partner turned to her with an awestruck expression, one ever so slightly proud but overall dumbfounded as she watched the regularly quiet girl fight for her beliefs and stand her ground. "The White Fang is not family, it never has been. You think it's some charitable group that will save you from all your problems and free the Faunus.

"But they're not! They're as much a military as the one Atlas holds, and they are much more aggressive. They have buildings filled with Faunus who make up the propaganda that you're using. They steal information, falsify documents, stage riots against the Faunus, and outright lie about the information they acquire. And then you state their results as fact!"

"You lie," the antlered man said.

Blake growled, "And you'll jump at the opportunity to call someone else a liar when their perspective differs from yours. I know they lie about the information they spread—that was my job when I was with them! If you can't accept that they aren't wrong even once, then you're as blind as I was. They don't fight for Faunus Rights, they fight to conquer humanity. And if you think that they care about any of you marching up and down the biggest city in the world, you're mistaken. They don't care. They only care about keeping themselves alive. Truthfully, your movement is somewhat of a joke in the organization. They call you spineless! And coming from them, that's low."

"You don't know anything about the White Fang!" a particularly zealous member of the crowd screeched, forcing her way through the vanguard and facing Blake immediately with a personally offended expression. "My husband fought for years trying to make the lives of Faunus matter. He was killed in a protest just like this one in Mistral two years ago by a human! A human like the little liar girl beside you! You can't say the White Fang is trying to conquer humans; humans are trying to conquer us!"

An idea crossed Blake's mind of informing the woman to the fact that many a White Fang member would forsake their homefront relationships through staged deaths or denouncements in order to fan the flames of unrest. But she would not tell her this for many reasons, with the chief amongst these being that despite their collective ignorance, they were confused individuals searching for what was right. They were like Blake a decade ago.

But the reason why Blake did not respond in any way immediately was due to her partner's intervention. "What are you talking about?" Yang asked. "Humans aren't trying to conquer you. Yeah, there are a few bullies left around, but most people aren't like that anymore. I can't really speak for all of you, but from what I've seen, Vale's a pretty accepting place. And we've had to fight the White Fang before—you know, with guns and stuff—because they weren't accepting like you're saying they are. They knocked a hole in the train system and let a bunch of Grimm attack the city. That doesn't sound like something family would do."

"Maybe they did that on purpose," a new crowd member conjectured. "Maybe that was their way of fighting back against the humans."

"Are you kidding me?"

Blake took over for her girlfriend. "The Grimm can't be controlled; they can't even be aimed in a certain direction. They will attack any source of fear and would have destroyed Vale if it weren't for the city's defense by multiple hunter teams—hunter teams which included human-Faunus partnerships."

The crowd was silent.

"That was equality in action!" Blake exclaimed. "That was the combined efforts of humans and Faunus working toward a similar goal. We saved the city and nobody knew about it after the fact because of how well we worked together."

"Yeah," Yang added, "and the White Fang was nowhere to be seen the entire time. They sent trains loaded with bombs underneath downtown so that they could let the Grimm out, and they didn't bother cleaning up the mess when it got out of hand."

"If they wanted to conquer humanity, they would have set an offensive against it, not let the Grimm do their work for them. The White Fang is very direct about their military actions and will only resort to subterfuge if the result might ruin their reputation among the Faunus."

Another crowd member interjected, "But the White Fang doesn't actually fight! They protest."

"Yeah? Then what about all those guns they pointed at us? What about the time they kidnapped my little sister?"

"That wasn't them!"

"If that wasn't the White Fang, then you aren't the White Fang, either," Blake said. "They wore their emblems, their masks, and they were all Faunus fighting to destroy humanity! They followed every rule I was taught when I was with them and they utilized the same command structure I was familiar with. They hated humans, wore white, and fought in the name of the Faunus. If that wasn't the White Fang, then you certainly aren't."

The crowd was silent, perhaps shocked into speechlessness, but more than likely caught without a further basis for argument. Blake was proud—winded and exhausted, but proud nonetheless. An encouraging smile was sent her way from the sunny blonde.

Unfortunately, she knew that reciprocating this would be ill-advised since doing so would only contradict the aforementioned oppositional sentiment that she held for some reason against Yang. But, of course, they were not out of this fight yet, for the crowd's ranks had not softened and no exit could be seen. Despite her best intentions, this situation had devolved into nothing but a shouting match, and somehow she was winning. Yet no victorious glory reached her mind due to the deplorable fact that aggressing these civilians was wrong and Yang was the cause of this.

She tried not to blame Yang, she truly did, but every second that time lent her to think her own thoughts lead to her belief that this situation would not have occurred if not for the blonde's insistence. Yang had been the one to argue for immediacy, push into the crowd, and collide with a crowd member, thus starting this entire argument. There was no hostility that welled within Blake's mind, simply that same underlying fear which had been with her for most of her life.

The next utterance of the crowd would be, somehow, more frustrating than all those previous. Wrongful beliefs on ethicality and dubious usage of hateful propaganda were major matters which should evoke a vague sense of outrage, but it was the inclusion of a relatively minor matter which finally shattered the thin calm that still rested between the partnership and the crowd.

"It really is a shame that the human has taken hold of your heart and corrupted you so badly."

In unison, the partnership would respectively shout, "What are you talking about?" and "Are you crazy?"

"It's not natural, the relationship you two hold. It's perverse, wrong. A Faunus should be only with another Faunus. That way, we can ensure that more of us grow every day to achieve the equality that we deserve. With you sleeping with the enemy, you've already surrendered our fight for us. You've given up every right you had as a member of the White Fang so that you could assimilate with the humans. You've been corrupted by them and they've indoctrinated you with their lies about us. You don't have a right to speak for the Faunus any longer."

"Would you rather live in a world of hate or a world of peace?" Blake asked.

"I would live in a world of peace, huntress."

The addition of the lattermost word nearly dissuaded Blake from continuing, being that their beliefs on who she was were now cemented and unchangeable. However, they could not get away with speaking about Yang like that, no matter how brazen the blonde had been. "Then why do you continue to fight against humanity? Other Faunus Rights groups are trying to assimilate and are making the lives of many Faunus better. You're fighting for an organization that doesn't care about the lives of the Faunus any longer. They want the same thing the Grimm want."

"You don't know what you're talking about, child." Though it did not occur, it seemed as though the crowd stepped nearer. "You've been blinded by human propaganda and your allegiance belongs to humanity now. Of course you're going to defend them. Your perverted heart has been stolen and your mind has been addled. Now you're only a husk of a Faunus. You can't speak of the White Fang anymore. They've changed for the better—they've changed things for the better. They're the reason why Menagerie was destroyed and why we're even allowed jobs in the first place. If it wasn't for them, then there wouldn't be a Faunus Rights movement."

"But they aren't the Faunus Rights movement, not anymore," Blake argued. "The leadership of ten, twenty years ago could hold that title, but not those in power now. The White Fang's current leadership wants to see Remnant burn and the Faunus be the only people that survive."

"That's the way it should be." Another voice said this, speaking matter-of-factly. "After all, we are the superior species."

Blake recoiled at the absurdity of this claim. It was wholly unwarranted. "We're all the same! The only differences we have are our traits and night vision."

"Those are what make us superior. It's the basic rule of survival that if a species cannot adapt, it will die."

"Wait," interrupted Yang. "You're saying that just because humans can't see in the dark, we deserve to die?"

"Don't twist our words—"

"I'm not twisting your words; they're already twisted as it is. You're saying because I'm not up to your standards and because I wasn't born as a Faunus, I'm going to die. And let me catch you there before you say something like, 'Now you know what our pain is like.' I don't know your struggles—really, I don't even think much of what you're saying makes sense—but no one deserves to be told they're lesser. Blake's been through that for years and some of the effects might not ever come undone, but she doesn't have to live with that anymore now that she left the White Fang."

As caring as her words were, Yang's argument was reprehensible in this current instance. Blake believed the blonde was picking a fight with the protesters and that this would lead to combat with unarmed civilians. And for Yang to become defensive was for her to promise combat. Such was her threat to Weiss regarding the matter of Ruby and as well to Blake regarding her parents if they did not approve of their relationship. This was what the White Fang had resorted to, and for this, Blake turned a condemning glare on her partner.

Unfortunately, this look went unseen by the blonde. "And if anyone knows about White Fang stuff, it's her. She was around when it all hit the fan and got out alive. She knows what went wrong and when it went wrong, and that's more than any of you can say for yourselves. And if she wants to leave the White Fang behind to hang out with humans, that's her call, not yours."

Yang moved from her position beside the young Faunus and stepped to the one who had argued most recently. She was only a few feet from where he stood and was nearly half a foot shorter, but her expression of annoyance did not waver in the least. "And if any of you have a problem with who she dates or who she stands beside in battle, you'll bring that up with me." She glared a scarlet glare which seemed to catch the Faunus off-guard. "I didn't steal her heart. She stole mine. If you've got a problem with that, leave her out of this and pick on me instead."

Perhaps Yang expected some reaction of fear and an admittance to leave, but Blake knew that this would never be the case. She continued to glare at her partner. These were not people to be aggressive toward, for when cornered, they were liable to gain courage and fight in a similar way that their beloved White Fang did. There had been no forward progress in convincing these people and there would not be any in the foreseeable future. But Yang was combative and defensively aggressive. Such a combination was inherently volatile and Blake did not want to see the explosion. Unfortunately, her assessment of their characters would prove correct and her condemnation would prove wrongly placed.

The man Yang stood before smirked down at her. "You talk like we consider you equal. You don't have any say here, human. She's one of us. She's a Faunus before she's a huntress, a Faunus before she's your plaything, a Faunus before all else. And you're a tyrant who thinks that getting up in someone's face is the way to calm a situation."

"Oh, 'calm' isn't exactly what I was going for."

"If it's a fight you want, you're incredibly outnumbered, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah, but I could use the practice."

"You'd take us all on just for her?"

"For Blake? I'd take on armies."

"Yang! Enough!" All parties went silent, turning to the source of the shout. The blonde found her partner who scowled with an obvious fury, similar in expression to the protesters. The crowd continued to smirk as Yang lost her confident expression for one of worry. She attempted to ask what was the matter, but before she could get a word out, Blake interrupted. "We are not fighting these people, no matter how obnoxious they are. They've done nothing wrong but insult us. There is no need for bloodshed. That would only further their cause and get us arrested."

"But they were gonna try to take you away!"

Blake shook her head. "They're all talk."

"But they were going to attack!"

"Yang, we aren't soldiers and we certainly aren't murderers. We're not even huntresses yet, but still our enemy should be the Grimm alone. We can't fight these people. They're innocent and unarmed."

"I know, but they were going to take you away."

"They weren't and it shouldn't matter anyways. We don't fight civilians. We attend Beacon so we can learn to protect them, not destroy." This was not Blake reasoning with Yang, but scolding her, ensuring that the past could not repeat itself. "Yang, we are not the White Fang. We will never be the White Fang. Let's just walk away and let them be like we should have done in the first place."

Despite her earlier statement on the necessity for assertiveness and to fight for what was right, Yang lost her scarlet temper at a single glance at Blake's upset. She knew the young Faunus was not one to be offended but on the direst of occasions, and as such, she assumed that Blake was correct. "Blake, I-I'm…You're right. I'm sorry. We shouldn't have done this and I shouldn't have forced you into coming with me. Let's just forget about this and go home."

"You aren't going anywhere," the crowd said. "You cannot leave until we let you."

"You're not going to do anything," Blake sighed.

She figured that their next action would be to argue against this. It had been the pattern for years upon years and there was no reason to believe that her lone intervention would be their breaking point. As such, she looked away from Yang in disappointment and toward their intended destination. They had endeavored only to cross to the other side of the street, and yet so much trouble had been caused by the blonde. Without so much as a thought of hesitation, Blake pushed past the crowd, parting the defiant ranks and creating a berth which Yang could follow.

Faunus would try to grasp her, to keep her in place and bring her back to the darkness of the White Fang, but nothing more than a simple shrug was necessary to disregard them. They were an argumentative group that lacked conviction and were thus pliant. If they were the White Fang, she and Yang would be dead already. If they were a true Faunus Rights movement, none of this would have happened—in fact, it was possible she and Yang would agree with their points if this were the case. But they were neither. They were children who wanted to achieve greatness in their lives but never wanted to accept the responsibility which will always surround any greatness. They could not handle the concept of differing outlooks and they certainly could not handle defeat. They could claim themselves the White Fang all they wanted, Blake thought. Both groups could burn together.

Yang followed close behind, glancing apologetically at everyone around her, understanding now why Blake had been hesitant about heading into this crowd. It is not to say that the blonde was afraid of the mob, but that she was insecure because of what they said. She had always been either revered or feared because of the way she carried herself, but these people talked down to her like she had done something wrong. Her life had been fit to accommodate everyone around her, and now she felt as though she had neglected an entire side of her life for years.

She looked to Blake and the irregular anger that marred her expression. Perhaps Yang truly did not care about the Faunus and only saw Blake as a plaything, as they put it. She had not listened to her partner when she should have, she had argued about a matter she had little understanding of, and she had even threatened to fight thousands of unarmed civilians by herself. And what was worse was that she knew that she would win. Perhaps she was a child with a gun. There were definitely unintended targets hurt by her aggression, and Blake was one of them. Perhaps aggression wasn't the answer. Understanding had done well in the past.

In a matter of minutes, the crowd had been passed through and the opposite side of the street was found, leaving the aggressors at the partnership's backs like but a shallow memory. There would be no further admission of this conflict in the present moment, both due to upset and prioritized emotion. The blonde would continue to frown and her girlfriend to glower at some point upon the sidewalk before her.

While it may seem as though the crowd itself would be the cause of this present anger welling within the young Faunus, the deepest rooted concerns of the girl in black would not be struck for some time to come. The protest had, of course, been the starting point from which this upset was allowed, but it was not the reason why Blake was as frustrated as she was. Truthfully, she did not know why she was acting this way. Perhaps it was the teenage angst that plagues one from time to time in those years or perhaps it was something founded in yet inscrutable logic, but whatever the case, the crowd had instilled irrationality from which they were characterized.

To do away with any ambiguity, it should be said that a fledgling frustration existed specifically due to Yang and her insistence. Though it cannot be said that any specific part of her interaction with the blonde was to blame for this emotion, the emotion existed nevertheless, and this led to a scornful silence on Blake's part as the two continued down the path planned by them before the encounter with the mob.

Yang heaved a heavy, almost playful sigh as she caught up to her girlfriend's side, apparently unshaken. "So, that was a thing. You know, you were probably right about waiting instead of barging through like we did. Honestly, I think we would have been better off following your plan. Now I'm not sure we'll be able to get a table, anyway." She gave a short laugh and looked over to Blake. Unfortunately, the comment seemed to have gone unnoticed. Blake's brows continued to furrow and her mind still occupied thoughts of withheld reprimand. "Hey, kitten, what's wrong? Did those guys get to you or something?"

No, Blake answered, it was someone else, someone closer. She sighed. She had a right to be angry, she believed, but no right to be rude—curt, perhaps, but not cold. "I just want to go home."

"You don't wanna see if we can still get a table?"

The young Faunus shook her head. "I've lost my appetite. I just…need to go home."

"Yeah, all right. Sure." The attempt at restorative positivity had failed the blonde, and now she frowned again. "Hey, uh, if I said anything back there that was, you know, offensive or anything, I didn't mean it. I…I'm sorry, Blake."

Again, she was saying that word—that word the crowd had been unfortunately correct about. Yang didn't know what was going on. The protest did not, either. There were two people on this world who would have known how to deal with this emotion, but their power had been severed by White Fang propaganda and its corruption of a child. Yang, in every other circumstance, would know how to mend a wound like this, but not now, not when the issue concerned her versus the Faunus species. She was a human—a great, loving human, but a human nonetheless. She and Blake were different at the most fundamental level. It was doubtful they would ever truly coexist without fear of the other's kind.

Bumblebee was in sight and Blake did not feel like talking. However, she would because Yang was still dear and because the young Faunus could not yet find what she had done wrong. "Can we please just go home?"

"Yeah," Yang sighed.

There would be no embrace between the two except what was required for Blake to ride behind her partner. And even this was not in the least affectionate. No matter how close the two would sit near one another, there would be an uncertain distance between them all the while. Throughout their journey back to the house on the outskirts of this city, Blake would hold close to her partner, feeling the reassuring aura try to warm her heart and fail. There was something wrong, and she knew it. She could not be certain what it was, but there was something. She had felt the exact same way about the White Fang prior to her discovery of their change. Perhaps Yang was changing, perhaps Blake was changing, perhaps not. Whatever the case, something was wrong and Blake was not immediately ready to forgive. The protest had shaken her.

---

As the groan of rising metal shrilled throughout the sisters' garage, the bike and its two passengers entered and came to a halt with an expected rumble and diminishing whine of the engine. With the press of a dashboard button, the garage door began its descent and the two moved to dismount, one quicker than the other.

Blake shook her head, freeing her ears and hair from the helmet and attempting again to distance herself from the festering anger. During the ride home, she could only bring herself to ask why she was as upset as she was. Unfortunately, she never found an answer. This confusion only further upset the young Faunus because introspection had once been a comfort to her. Now it was a wall she could not scale and a wall of thorns at that. There was injustice somewhere to find and misunderstandings aplenty, but Yang had not fired upon the crowd even once. Blake set her helmet on the table against the back wall before moving to the door leading inside. Meanwhile, Yang was still sitting astride her bike, staring fearfully at the returned pain within her partner.

Without any ceremony or look behind, Blake entered the house in her unresolved daze, leaving the door open for her partner and making her way inside.

Yang did not bother following procedure by putting everything where it needed to go. She could afford to be hasty with her belongings this once if it meant ensuring Blake's wellbeing. There was something terribly wrong and she knew it was all her doing even if she did not know exactly what it was that had caused this expression. Blake was not the type to show a cold shoulder. She could get mad at times when her beliefs were tried or her people insulted, but this was something different. This was not as dire as the situation with Weiss in their first semester, but it was obviously important to the young Faunus. As such, Yang placed her helmet atop her seat and chased after her partner.

"Blake?" she yelled as she closed the door behind her. "Blake, is everything all right?"

She received no answer.

At the end of the hall, Blake could be seen entering the kitchen, detouring to a far wall and swiping the sisters' home phone before looking to head to her room. However, before she could, Yang would shout again in her worried tone, "Blake?" At this, the girl in black would pause, standing beneath the door frame leading into the next room. Yang would stop close by, but she lacked the nerve to reach out and hold her partner like she wanted to because she was aware of the tight grip the Faunus held on the phone and the frustration this represented. "Blake?" she asked again in a voice much quieter. "Blake, talk to me. What's wrong?"

The Faunus did not turn to look at her girlfriend but instead emitted a low whisper of a growl. This itself was frustrating to the blonde who knew not how to respond to this sort of emotion. Ruby's upset had always been disappointment or relatively simple sadness, and this was all Yang knew. She, herself, had struggled with remorse and regret, but this left her with no knowledge as to what Blake was feeling in this present moment. There was no word Yang could give to describe Blake's feelings because she did not know what they were. This was the reason behind the blonde's questioning, not simple care (though it was involved significantly), but an attempt at understanding.

The blonde stepped forward. "Blake, it'll all be okay if we just talk about it. What went wrong out there with the protest? Did they say something? Did I say something? Were there just too many people out there at once for you to handle? Tell me, Blake, and we'll work this out. I'm sorry about whatever I said, just please let me help."

All at once, that low growl in the back of Blake's throat became a snarling shout as she turned on her partner, both physically and emotionally. "I don't want your help!" she bellowed. "You won't understand because you can't understand!"

Yang could not help but recoil. Admittedly, this expression was startling as it was altogether unexpected of the reserved Faunus. "Well, I can try."

"And you'll fail!" The amber eyes which once calmed the blonde now frightened her. "You can't understand what went wrong out there because you're not a Faunus! You don't know the White Fang and the things it does to people! It destroys them, cripples them—it takes their minds away and shoves new ones in that want only to cannibalize their own culture. Those people didn't deserve what happened out there.

"But you went ahead and shook the beehive anyway! I said 'Wait' and you said 'Go,' and you had to have your way. You dragged us into trouble without thinking and then you walked out like nothing was wrong. Did you not see what was wrong there? We were walking all over people who were victims of the White Fang—people who had their minds ripped out without their consent! They were trying to fight for what was right, and even though they weren't going about it the right way, they didn't deserve to be threatened. They were unarmed! Defenseless!"

"Well, I thought it was the right thing to do," Yang admitted. "We were having a great time and I thought that if we didn't get a table, it would ruin our date. I was wrong and I know it."

"No, you don't know how wrong you were. We could have let them pass and everything would have been fine."

"Okay, it was poor planning on my part. I was just trying to help."

"Was threatening that man your attempt at helping?"

"Yeah!" Yang said, her voice rising in evident annoyance. "That actually was. Didn't you hear what they said? They were gonna take you away from me. I know they were probably exaggerating, but they threatened us first. And I wasn't just going to sit back and let someone threaten you like that, Blake. You mean too much for me to take chances like that, and even if he wasn't serious about it, I had to treat him like he was."

"But you didn't! You treated him like the White Fang. You treated all of them like the White Fang, saying that you'd fight all of them."

"Just to keep you safe!"

"Just to keep me safe?" asked Blake, bewildered. "I wouldn't think threatening to shoot someone at point-blank range was a way of keeping anyone safe. You were threatening them with physical violence—you were threatening peaceful protesters with physical violence!"

"Yeah, because I assessed the situation and I saw a threat. Don't you remember all the paperwork Goodwitch had us sign so we could be partners? All that legal stuff? We all had to read it."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I promised to keep you safe no matter what. I said I'd risk my life for you if you were ever in danger, and that's exactly what I did. You were in trouble with those guys and I helped."

"You wouldn't have had to if you didn't insist on walking through them in the first place!"

The blonde threw her arms up in apology. "Again, my bad! I didn't think it'd turn out like that and I was wrong. Still, that doesn't excuse those guys from trying to pull you away from me and insulting us like that."

"Insults, Yang? Really? You cared about the insults?" Blake shook her head in disbelief. "Yang, they were just trying to get under your skin, and you let them. That's not even linked to their affiliation with the White Fang. That was just them being terrible people. And you lowered yourself to their level!"

Yang arched an eyebrow. "Are you calling me a terrible person?"

"I—No, it's not that, I…" The Faunus sighed. "Yang, you responded to verbal abuse with threats of physical violence. That's exactly what the White Fang used to do, and I'm not going to let you lower yourself to their level. You aren't the White Fang and I'm not the White Fang and we aren't going to act like the White Fang. If those people want to be like them, let them. They don't matter to us. They'll be sorted out by the world in due time, not by your gauntlets."

"I wasn't really going to shoot them! I was just pushing them back."

"You could have fooled me! You've always been the type to keep your word, threats and all. If I thought that you were going to shoot him, imagine what he thought—imagine what everyone around him thought! By getting up in his face, you not only made them angrier, you gave the White Fang fire to work off of. They might use you as an example from now on for how terrible humanity is."

"And you think humanity's terrible? Are you trying to say that you're siding with the protesters? Because all I'm hearing right now is how I didn't do anything good back there and only ruined things for an entire race of people."

"Don't make this about yourself! Of course you got us into a bad situation and of course you exacerbated it. Does that make all humans bad? Absolutely not, but you still have to take responsibility for your actions."

"And I did. I knew that if I was going to fight one of them, I was going to fight all of them."

"Do you honestly think fighting solves everything?"

"No, I—" Yang was cut off.

"Then why are you arguing?"

"Because you're arguing with me!" Now Yang was yelling as well, her shout echoing throughout this otherwise uninhabited house in an attempt to overpower her partner's voice. "I get that I did something wrong. I might not understand what it was completely, but I know it was wrong. But ever since we left the crowd, you've been angry with me and I'm just trying to find out why."

Blake hesitated, not having truly an answer to this yet, but she felt the need to fight nevertheless. "I'm angry with you because you tried to act the same way as the White Fang. You tried to attack innocent people! Even if they're misguided, they don't deserve to die."

"But I didn't attack them and I won't even think of doing that anymore." There was a moment's pause between them as Yang tried to will her statement into more of a promise after the fact, but she realized that Blake was still fuming and needed extra assurance. "Blake, I was just trying to help. It wasn't their insults about me that were hurting, it was the insults about you. I wasn't just going to stand around and watch them beat you down. I'm your partner! I'm your girlfriend! If it's anyone's job to have your back, it's me, and I wasn't going to let them hurt you like that."

"Hurt me? They couldn't have hurt me if they tried. I'm desensitized to all of their insults; I've heard every one there is to say. When you spend time with the White Fang, you grow accustomed to that sort of abuse. It stops having the same effect and starts motivating you into taking action, into attacking and changing things. You took their bait and threatened that man and acted like a member of the White Fang."

"And what would you have done if that was me on the line out there?" Yang argued. "Would you have just walked away and let them continue on their protest? Would you just let them be and push away peacefully, not harming anybody at all?"

"You know that's not true. They wouldn't have hurt you, and I did rescue you from them. You already saw what I would have done. I got you away from them."

"Well, that was what I was trying to do for you. They were saying that you were a traitor and that you weren't supposed to be with me. They were attacking you, Blake, and whether or not you care doesn't change the fact that they were. They were going to pull you away and take you with them. Maybe they weren't going to do that, but I didn't know. It sure looked like they were and I wasn't about to let them indoctrinate you again. You aren't with the White Fang anymore. You're with us now, Blake. With family. I was just trying to protect you and make sure you were okay."

The lattermost sentence in this argument sent a jolt of indignation through the mind of Blake Belladonna, finalizing her assumptions as to what was upsetting her. Now she knew, and thus she glared at her partner, unfortunately growling, "I don't need your protection! You've been smothering me ever since I asked you out, and I can't take it anymore! I was fine without your protection for seventeen years and I think I can make do on my own!"

An unintended silence swept the room, leaving both parties speechless at what Blake had said.

A look of sheer horror crossed Yang's countenance, and on Blake's, immediate regret. There were questions to ask, many answers required, but Blake was still coming to terms with the words that had come out of her mouth. Had she said what she thought? Had she said the unthinkable? A noxious feeling welled inside her, paining her stomach and racking her mind as she desperately wondered if this was life or some horrible dream.

Yang's jaw gaped in shock. These were not Blake's words, surely. They must have been somebody else's, perhaps a White Fang propagandist. The kind, nuzzling Blake of ticklish ears and teasing remarks could not possibly say something this rash and sudden. It was wrong, simply wrong, and Yang knew not what to do in response.

Blake was in much the same state with the only difference being that she had the ability still to speak. "I…I…I…" She could not get any further word out past this yet. She regretted what she said, but at the same time, there was truth to it. The line, however, between truth and lie in her own statement was incredibly vague and even more troubling. "Yang, I-I need some time to myself. I'm…Please don't come after me."

At this, the Faunus turned and quickly made her way to her room, withholding tears and a desire to scream as she all but ran down the hall, closed the door, and locked it suddenly.

"Blake…wait." The blonde's words were a mere whisper now, a command to a ghost that had long since passed. She spoke to a person beyond the reach of her voice and beyond her help. "Blake, no." Had she lost? Had she brought an entire army to its knees and still lost? "I'm sorry," she desperately croaked as the room's light dimmed and so too her aura. She watched the place where Blake stood, a position that would be perhaps the closest she could ever get to Blake again. "Blake," she mourned one last time.

---

Yang was wrong. The Faunus were not to be walked through or stepped over. They were people just like Yang was and they deserved the same respect. If they were unarmed, they would not be fired upon; it was as simple as that. And if they were to demonstrate peacefully, they would not be met with war.

That was all Yang knew: war. Her life was filled with loss and she could not get away from it. She fought constantly to keep pain at bay, but lacked the ability to eliminate it entirely. She would inflict pain upon others because it had been inflicted upon her and she would do so with no regard to the victims of her assault. She was reckless, brash, everything Weiss claimed her to be, and still she surprised the Faunus who accepted her despite these faults by showing aggression when there should be none. She was turning, changing like the crowd and the White Fang. She would be another partner lost to the seduction of power.

But Blake did not want to believe this. She rationalized the concepts, countered her own arguments with those against Yang, but in the end, she could not accept as truth the notion that the loving blonde was truly as uncontrollable as she seemed. For this, Blake had taken the sisters' phone, not as a means of cutting off the house from the outside world, but instead to call the one person in that world who would understand a young Faunus' plight.

Yet she was not in her right mind and could not bring herself to dial. She sat shaking in her own bed—the bed she had seldom used since that night of the storm—and simply stared at the pale green glow of the screen. Her arms cradled her legs close and her ears drooped deeply as she planned the path her thumb might take over the number pad.

Yang had been there for her in every fight up to this point and had even ventured with the Faunus to Sierra and braved a fear shared between them. She had been kind and caring and treated Blake only as another person, not a member of the White Fang or as a lowly Faunus. But she was a human and harbored institutional sentiments regardless. She would always see Blake as someone different. This was unavoidable and a factor which the crowd despised.

A relationship between a human and a Faunus was unprecedented. The White Fang had evidence that told why the relationships could not work and the crowd seemed aware. Though the statistics were likely apocryphal and falsified, it was still a belief held by many, humans included. It was not about biology or ethics or even conflicting cultures, but about fundamental stigmata toward change and difference. They were different people, Blake and Yang, and always would be. Perhaps a relationship could not occur if their ideals were not aligned on this matter of righteousness.

But Blake did not know this for certain and could not admit her decision as final. There was one person she knew who could give a definite answer concerning a human-Faunus relationship—one who had experienced the trials and knew of the pain. She looked again to the phone, a new resolve drying her tears as she pressed slowly the number that had been lost for many years.

The phone began to ring in her ear and each electronic tone seemed to test her courage, but she knew that this would be the only way to be certain.

It would ring three times more before a silence captured the line. Blake nearly hung up, but a calming voice with an ease about enunciation asked, "Hello?"

"Mom?" was the only word the young Faunus could utter, a choke overtaking her ability speak any further.

"Blake?" Lilian confirmed. "Blake, you don't sound well. Is something wrong?"

As per usual, the older Faunus wasted no time with pleasantries for her daughter, moving only to direct care and assessment. This brought Blake some sense of comfort that someone might understand. "Mom," she said shakily, unable to find the conviction she had used against her partner, "I…I…Something's happened with Yang. I…I don't know what to do and I…I just need to talk to you."

"Would you like me to get your father on the line, as well? If she's hurt you, he may want to have a word with her."

"No, it's not that. It's…We're having a disagreement."

"An argument," corrected Lilian.

Blake was silent.

Her mother sighed, seemingly preparing for the sudden discussion. "It's natural for you two to argue. It's natural for any couple to argue." She paused, listening to the silence Blake maintained. "I assume this was your first?"

"As a couple," Blake answered. "We've fought before, but never like this."

"And it stings?"

Blake could only give a whimper of confirmation.

"What was the cause of this argument?"

"The White Fang…I think. I'm not sure exactly. I just…snapped at her."

Lilian sighed, taking a moment to organize her impending lecture before beginning. "Blake, I know you have an idea as to the extent of the White Fang's indoctrination and I know you've broken out of it for the most part, but you must understand that their claws sank deeper than you might think. I assume that the matter of the White Fang came up in conversation and you had differing viewpoints?" This was not exactly the case, but Blake confirmed. "You have a very different view on the organization than most. You see their merits, both past and present, but you see their weaknesses clearly because they affected you horribly.

"You left us in search of Faunus Rights but found the White Fang. The two aren't in agreement and never were, no matter what past leadership may have said. You were disappointed throughout your stay with the organization and it mounted to a point where you could not take anymore. Unfortunately, this means that you will be more susceptible to these sorts of snapping instances. It sounds like a number of things went wrong and frustrated you to the point of lashing out. Did Yang do anything wrong to you directly?"

The argumentative side of Blake's mind searched desperately for something to pin on her partner, but until the moment they shouted at each other, there had been no instance where Yang had directly accosted her. "N-no," Blake answered honestly. However, she believed, such an answer would only prove her wrong. For this, she argued, "She tried to fight the crowd, though."

"The…crowd?"

Blake let out a shuddering sigh as she explained, "We ran into a protest rallying for White Fang ideals. They weren't White Fang, but they believed they were. Yang threatened to fight them all if they wouldn't let us go."

"And did she mean them, the threats?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure she wasn't using hyperbole to frighten them?"

"Mom, Yang is fully capable of taking on a crowd by herself. If she says she will fight anyone, it would only be a matter of when."

"And you didn't want to fight them because they were protesting against the White Fang's cause?"

"No. They were unarmed."

A silence settled between the two as Lilian absorbed this information. Blake knew that there was something going on in her mother's mind that was bound to hurt when it was eventually stated, but until that time came, the young Faunus would sit in her own confusion, seized by distrust and self-loathing.

Soon enough, this silence would be broken by Lilian's conjecture. "Perhaps you're angry because she did not listen to you. She did not listen to you about the White Fang or this protest, and you saw this as something akin to the White Fang not listening to you. Did you voice your opposition to Yang about your involvement with the protest?"

"Yes, I told her that we shouldn't have gone in. And when she was threatening them, I told her that we needed to leave."

"Did she listen?"

"Not the first time, no." Blake paused for a moment, considering the second part to the previous explanation. "But she did the second time."

"Did she apologize for that first time?"

"I…Yes." Slowly, the past was becoming clearer to the young Faunus as perspective was gleaned. Lilian was not soothing her daughter as she was expected to, but rather she was setting things right, opening doors through which Blake could see and paths which she could take. By admitting that Yang had apologized, a pang of regret struck the girl in black. However, this pang would be countered by one of prideful inflexibility. As such, she argued, "But she didn't know what she was apologizing about. She didn't understand why our interference with the protest was wrong and she doesn't understand why we hurt the way we do."

Suddenly, Lilian's voice grew more severe, as though she were reprimanding her daughter. "It does not matter if she feels the pain we do because we do not feel pain at all times. If she were to feel the sting of society's outrage, then it would break her as it would anyone else—human or otherwise. No one deserves what we have gone through, and if you'd have her empathize continuously, then she would not be your friend but just another person who pities you.

"From what I can gather, she was there for you, not them. She is reckless, no doubt, but she did not strike me as the type of person to be cavalier with anyone's life, let alone yours. If she apologized, then it was for your sake, not the White Fang's. She cared about only your experience and wellbeing, and this is why she apologized to you and not to them. Of course she will not understand the plight of the Faunus overall, but this is to be expected and cannot be changed. Her lack of understanding does in no way reflect her capacity for sympathy, and by her apologizing, she showed a humility that most simply wouldn't have in the sort of situation you two were in.

"Blake, if you felt hurt during your time in the crowd, then it was because of them, not Yang. It sounds like you were frustrated at them and displaced your anger onto her. Your father and I did much the same when we were younger, and it is unfortunate. However, you'll find that Yang had your best interests in mind when you were amid the protesters."

The young Faunus quietly nodded, not entirely believing what was being said, but accepting it as a definite possibility. Yang did have her roundabout ways of doing things, and perhaps this was one of those times when the blonde defied expectations. The interaction with the crowd was reprehensible, but her use of the word "Sorry" was not. No, Yang truly had been sorry—she had been sorry about her own actions and for not being able to understand entirely what was going on. From Blake's perspective, this only made herself seem like the villain, no better than the White Fang.

"If you're looking for my opinion on the matter," Lilian continued, "neither of you were wrong. But neither of you were right, either. This is a grey area that you will have to work through together, and it will always be that way. For the time being, I'd say apologize to each other and talk about it, as painful as that may be."

But this was impossible now after everything Blake had said in their argument. She had implied a separation, a sudden split in a relationship still fairly new to her. And she had visibly upset Yang in the process.

There was no apology apt for this situation and there was no way to take these words back. The words had been said and their effects had sunken in and Blake had chosen the coward's path once again by running away and hiding. She was not as strong as Yang, as confident as Yang, and she never would be. She could not comfort anyone about anything, only apply reason and logic that might help the person better understand the situation. But understanding, in this circumstance, would only twist the blade hilted in Yang's heart. She might explain what she meant and this would further the fear of separation or, perhaps, she could lie about what was said and claim it all innocuous. But she would not lie to Yang, not when she was in pain. Reason and logic would only hurt the blonde as it now did Blake, who atoned for her compounding mistakes.

There was still an awareness that Yang had done wrong, but Blake saw now that she, herself, had acted childishly. All the while, her mother waited on the other end of the connection, lacking the unnerved expression which plagued the daughter. Perhaps this was all teenage angst and the situation meant little, but they had taken their argument too far and now it meant something.

"Mom, I think I might have broken up with Yang."

A sputtering noise came from the older woman, breaking the façade of calm. This reaction only managed to make Blake shrink even further against the headboard of her bed, pulling her legs closer and gripping the phone tighter. "You…what? Blake, please tell me you didn't."

"I-I don't know what I did, mom, I just said it. I said that I could be fine on my own and that I didn't need her."

"Blake, that girl travelled with you halfway across the kingdom." Lilian's expression was all but a frown now, a mix of parental disappointment and personal disbelief over this incredibly rash action. "She stood beside you through all of your troubles and couldn't stop talking about you when she was here. If it weren't for her, you would have run away from your father and I once again when we opened our door to you. It doesn't matter if that girl is not a Faunus and does not understand the way humans have treated our people. She is your friend and she loves you very much. You cannot simply throw a friend like her away over a petty argument. Tell me you did not mean what you said."

Tears clouded the young Faunus' vision as she realized the severity of her actions. Though she seemed correct in the moment, she saw now that she had been like the vicious traitors of the White Fang's leadership she had grown furious at. She had thrown Yang to the crowd and had attacked her when the blonde had tried to get back into the Faunus' favor. Blake had imagined a rift between them that simply did not exist, all because of the crowd's hostility.

Her mother was right. Yang was a friend, and leaving her to the wolves was nothing any friend should do to another.

Blake would answer eventually and with a quaver to her voice as she whispered, "No, I…I don't think so…" She thought of Yang and the smiles they had shared with each other for months upon months versus this one frustrating point in time. Yang had only been a shining light in her dark, shadowy life, and this one instance where she winced at that light had burned them both, potentially fatally. The young Faunus closed her eyes and pushed through her confusion, fighting back her tears as she said with all certitude, "No. No, I didn't. I don't want to lose Yang, mom, I…I just didn't know what to do."

A hum came from the telephone line, one belonging to the reassurance of the maternal Faunus. "Well, I'm glad you called, then. I'm glad you'd rather be knowingly confused and reliant on others for support than lie to yourself and continue to make brazen decisions."

Unfortunately, Lilian's reassurance could not alter her daughter's mood which had sunk from the previous doubt and self-loathing into complete panic and shame. Blake had wrongly accused Yang of attacking the protesters when, in fact, they had attacked her. Blake had lied about her lack of understanding—who else in this world might better understand Blake than her own partner and girlfriend who had quelled the pains of memory and the stress of anxiety? And she had told Yang that all of this frustration was due to her "smothering" the Faunus when her actions were truly comforting and warm. Blake had insisted that life without the blonde would not only be possible, but ideal. This was a terrible, horrible lie.

As the two Faunus paused, one out of contemplation, the other out of consternation, a question burned away at the back of Blake's mind and was brought quickly to the forefront. It was a flame that could sear and singe, but one that might warm if answered correctly. However, with the current state of the young Faunus' mind, the thought merely burned with its evidenced answer. But it was worth asking for Yang's sake, even if the blonde was scornful by now.

"Mom?" Blake asked, knowing already how she would be responded to. "Are relationships between Faunus and humans wrong?"

A deep sigh was released from the elder Faunus. "Blake, you know what my answer will be."

"I know you don't approve of them, but are they wrong? Objectively, are they wrong?"

"Blake, your grandmother was no fool. She married who she thought was best for her, and that man was your grandfather, a human. They lived in Mistral, where Faunus were still hunted for sport, let out onto the hills for the enjoyment of aristocrats, and my father was one of them. He didn't have a taste for murder, of course, but it was expected of him and common practice for those of his society. When my mother met him, he stopped going on those hunts and spent all his days with her. They were in love, Blake, but they couldn't be and admitted their feelings only to each other.

"When his parents found out about them, my mother was barred from seeing him and he from her. But even under this duress, they married and fled to Vale. Blake, with that union, my father and all his reputation was replaced by my mother's. Every time a Faunus and a human unite, one's reputation always takes precedence over the other—in good times, the human's, in bad, the Faunus'. It's a combination viable only from biological and romantic standpoints. When I was born, I was treated as a disappointment by everyone I interacted with. My father lost his standing and never regained his poise. My mother, however, remained the same: beaten, broken, but full of love for my father and I.

"If you are asking if relations between human and Faunus can objectively exist, then you should look no further than your own existence for an answer. But if you ask if they are advisable, then the answer is a resounding no. There is and always will be pain and dissension that surrounds such marriages. I could not ever advise anyone under any circumstance to choose a partner of the opposite species for the pain I have seen first-hand."

Blake frowned into her knees, finding her mother's answer to be what had been expected. Pain would face them at all times, and this could spawn from even Blake herself. Yang did not deserve this fate, nor did she need to understand the Faunus' plight by way of replication. She had never needed to be kind to her partner, but she loved Blake nevertheless. Pain would always haunt them.

"However," Lilian sighed tiredly, causing Blake's inner tangent to stop for the moment, "you seldom choose who you fall in love with. You and Yang are an enigma together. I've never seen two people so amused by one another who would not be the best of friends. I may not trust Yang with our name yet, Blake, but she is an inexplicably kind girl. She is good for you and you for her. I may not support human-Faunus relations, but you and Yang are my exception. Every bit of propaganda you had instilled in your being will be a lie when pitted against the force of you and your partner. I hope you know this."

Though they did not make Blake smile, the words were incredibly reassuring to hear. Both from sentiment and logic, Blake trusted her mother above the crowd, and because Lilian had assented to their relationship while in Sierra and because she now gave an agreeable stance, the young Faunus had regained her moral compass which had hitherto guided her well.

Still, there were problems to face, and these were problems that outside advice could simply have no sway in. "Thank you," Blake would quietly say.

"Do not thank me. Thank Yang. After all, she's the reason why we're talking right now." The young Faunus could hear the smirk that formed her mother's countenance. "Anyhow, I think it is time I let you go. I'd imagine Yang is taking this harder, having no one to talk to, herself."

Blake simply hummed in dour agreement.

"If you need anything else, do not be afraid to call. Your father still wants to catch up on all your adventures at the Academy." She paused a beat. "We love you, Blake, your father and I, but so does Yang. See that she does not lose that feeling. Apologize to her."

The girl in black sighed before accepting. "Okay, I will. I love you, too, mom."

"Take care."

At this, the call was ended and the phone went quiet. Still, Blake held it to her ear as a means of warding off the silence.

There was once a time when she loved this silence. She would run away from those around her, be them White Fang members or students at Beacon, into the quiet embrace of peace. It was in silence that she could read and collect her thoughts, effectively distracting her from past politics and mistakes. It brought her away from people, from potential betrayers, and into the infinite escape which novels do allow. But now she loved Yang and the previous infatuation fell away for the delights of companionship and warmth. She did not become increasingly sociable, but she did value time spent alone with the blonde over time spent simply alone. It was cold in the silence of escape, and Yang was brave.

But she had left Yang alone—Yang who had admitted a discomfort for silence and abandonment. She was somewhere beyond the locked door, mourning the separation she had been left with, having no distraction. Her cheerful sister who had been with her for all her life was now away on a date with a girl who Yang had despised and Blake could not bring herself to face the repercussions caused by her statement of separation. There might have been a sob that came from the girl of gold, perhaps a groan of fury, but Blake could not admit herself the means to hear. Her ears flattened against her head, blocking out all sound except the low whine of the sisters' phone.

Blake was a coward. There was no way around it, she thought. Just like that night in southern Vale, she had run away from her problems rather than facing them and rectifying the situation. She told Yang that she would be fine without her, and this was simply not true. She had gone too far and more than likely ended this summer prematurely. Tears began to roll again, but these were a coward's weapon of self-pity. They were frustrated, sad, angry, and wholly remorseful, and fell without any choke or sob, catching in her leggings as she held her legs near.

She missed Yang now, missed her presence and warmth and laugh. Yang was the only person able to console Blake now, not her mother, not herself, but she was far away, both physically and emotionally. Where there had not been a rift, there now was, and where there had not been pain, there was now a scar. It was likely this argument, no matter how short it had been, would never leave either of their memories which had been falsely painted brilliant summer hues these past two months. Darkness was ahead of them, both of the Grimm and of the past, and not even Yang's teachings of forward movement could alter this path.

But there would be no ambition to help the blonde because Blake knew she had failed. She had forsaken her own partner and girlfriend to side with a protest that, even in her darkest of days, had been a joke. It was no longer a just cause she fought for nor her own prudential cause, but of the moments set immediately before her—she acted on impulse as she had been trained not to and sided against the righteous for the exceptions. She was backwards in her beliefs, placing priority on insecurities rather than those she held dearest—she placed the protest before her partner and as well the White Fang before her parents. She was a cowardly mess who could but cry at her own faults and mistakes rather than face them head-on—she would run from the crowd in terror to stumble and fall and bruise with no hope of recovery.

And now Yang was in the same darkness Blake had been in. The blonde of light and fire would fight herself and would last a thousand blows, growing stronger with each assault in the worst way possible. She faced abandonment yet again and rightfully feared her girlfriend's departure. Blake would be just another name and another story to tell to the future companion of the loving blonde. The Faunus had betrayed her and pierced the shield which had been unbreakable. Blake knew Yang well and knew that once a breach was found in her defenses, there would be no way of saving her unless she was consoled by those she held dear. But Ruby was away and Blake was cowardly and all those others who played a hand in Yang's formation were one of dead, apathetic, or long gone.

This frustration was caused by neither Yang nor the crowd, but by Blake herself who could not bear the weight of pain. This frustration was the result of the compounding stress in her life and the argument had been perhaps the zenith of her outrage. It was the lies of the White Fang, small at first and corroding overall, but eventually large and impossible to accept. It was her leave from the organization and from her parents and from the Faunus which stood ready for her order and the cowardice these actions formed. It was the struggle of readjusting to what was deemed a normal life after living a decade in silent, militant conditions. It was the contrast of this summer to that of the rest of her life and the plight of love on a heart unaccustomed to expression. It was the trip to Sierra, the reconnection with her parents, the acceptance she found with them, and her soon-after leave. And, as for today, it was the pain shared from Yang's stories of past relations and an unfortunate reacquaintance with a past long forgotten. It was the past—the past that Yang fought against and the past Blake wore as a scar.

Yang did not deserve this pain. Blake should take the brunt of it.

But Blake could not apologize, for who would forgive such a deed? Certainly not Yang who had trusted her with insight into her past. Instead, Blake would simply sit there, listening to the dull hum of the phone and cradling herself into as much of a ball as she could in order to cry like the coward she was.

She did not know when exactly it would happen in relation to these latest revelations, but eventually, a presence would be heard outside the door and the knob would be tried. Whoever it was had been quiet—likely due to pain that could turn a person hesitant for fear of repercussion. Afterwards, a confident knuckle rapped the door twice and was followed by expectant silence.

On instinct, Blake was frightened by this. She knew that Yang was in pain, but such confidence in action must surely mean anger or something of the destructive kind. For this, the Faunus choked out weakly, "I said I needed time to myself!"

However, a voice met hers which was shrill and militaristic, curt and formal with a nagging edge. "It's me," Weiss said from behind the door.

Blake sighed. She did not know if this action was out of relief or disappointment, but whatever the case, it served to rally her motivation to clamber out of her bed and move to the door. All the while, she wiped away her tears, sniffled, and ensured her appearance showed as little of her prior emotion as she could. When she opened the door, she found Weiss waiting with the same bored, imperious look that she always seemed to carry. Somehow, this normalcy was calming.

The heiress wasted neither time nor words in entering the Faunus' room, and it was only then that Blake could notice what her teammate was wearing. Clad in ivory chiffon, Weiss moved noisily to her teammate's bed and sat down immediately, in the process showing the full gown of pure white and the décolletée embellishments of what looked to be white flowers seen only in the highest of mountains.

It was then that Weiss let out a tired groan, one of tolerable pain and total relief. "Long night," she said. "A Long night indeed."

Still trying to compose herself, the best Blake could offer for this entrance was a mere "You look nice." Even then, this came with a croaking unease that afflicts one who has not spoken for hours at a time.

"You should see Ruby," Weiss replied with more than a slight smirk. She sighed. "Rarely do I get the chance to dress for a formal occasion anymore, and when a chef demands a certain dress code, well, I'm not one to refuse. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy dressing like this; tonight was fun. I'm simply letting my mind wander, and I trust you won't divulge my ramblings. It was a long night, after all."

The heiress shook her head, smiling one last time before gracefully losing her grin for one of characteristic stoicism. "But enough about me," she said. "You were in an argument."

Blake took a step back in uncertainty. "H-how do you know?"

Weiss gave her a lame look that silently told that the answer was obvious, if not to Blake. The girl in white then motioned to the place beside her. "Come, sit. We have much to discuss. You don't mind if I sit here, do you?"

It took a moment to accept this invitation, but Blake eventually sighed, "No, it's fine." Hands folded hesitantly in her lap, the young Faunus found her place beside her teammate. "Why are you here?"

"Well, there is the fact that Ruby and I returned and came upon the sight of a very distressed Yang. Now, there are only two people in this world I can think of who have the potential to cause such a reaction as we saw, and one of those two people was with me the entire night. So, it's a safe assumption that you and she had a bit of a spat."

"That's an understatement…"

"Oh, I am aware. Normally, I'm not one to feel any sort of attachment to Yang, but there is something seriously wrong with her. Even I don't hate her as much as it would take to ignore her completely right now. I've been through what she's going through, you have, Ruby as well, and we can't simply stand by while she struggles with herself, and you can't sit around while she's weeping about you."

"Did you try to help her?" asked Blake quietly, hoping that Yang was recovering. "Is she all right?"

"Of course not," the heiress answered, not a bit frivolously. "You know how I get around the…lachrymose and especially Yang. The mixture of those two, I cannot help but feel, is prone to melodrama." Blake's head bowed as she looked to her lap. "But I left her with Ruby and came to find you. What happened?"

The question was repeated again at Blake's uncertain eyebrow. Truthfully, the Faunus had not been listening to much of what Weiss had to say after she stated that she had left Yang alone. She now had information about Yang's state and it was not good. But Blake would answer Weiss' questions now rather than sprinting out and consoling the blonde because there was still a lack of certainty as to if an apology could ever suffice. A quiet whimper hummed in the back of the Faunus' throat as she began. "I…We ran into a White Fang protest and Yang pushed through. We got in an argument with the crowd and then with each other."

"Hmm," Weiss hummed, apparently considering the situation. "I imagine she was reckless?" Blake nodded. "Unaware?" Again, Blake nodded. "Pigheaded?"

"Weiss."

"I'm sorry. I'm simply trying to get an idea of what the situation was since so little information was supplied."

Blake sighed. "We encountered opposition, she argued with the protesters, threatened them with physical violence despite them being unarmed, and I took it to heart."

"As you should," said Weiss plainly. "She had no business arguing with them. Why were you even there in the first place?" An answer was attempted, but the heiress cut her teammate off. "It doesn't really matter. What matters is that you two fought. At least, I should say, you two didn't devolve to blows, which is good, all things considered. The problem now is that tearful mess down the hall who's crying your name."

"She's…crying?"

"Believe me, I was surprised, too. Whatever you said, it hit her hard, and now she's inconsolable. Even Ruby isn't having an effect on her."

"She…isn't mad?" Though her sentiment was a bit delayed and even more so inappropriate, Blake found hope through this question.

"Not in the definition you are using, but no, she is not mad."

This was good, relatively. This meant that their relationship was not lost forever. Still, Yang was in pain and Blake had no means of making it up to her. Moreover, if Ruby could not help her sister, what good could Blake do? It should be said that this particular thought process began the movement towards motivation which would eventually bring the two back into each other's presence. However, it would take a bit more questioning to get to this point, leading to Blake's inquiry of, "How is she? How did she look when you saw her?"

Weiss exhaled with an expression about herself like that of a person bearing horrible news which must be handled tactfully. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you outright, so what I will say is that she is obviously distressed. Visibly so. It's like she isn't Yang anymore, but someone lesser. She is caught between fury and anguish, and it has left her writhing about the living room as she whispers your name.

"Blake, whatever you did has broken Yang. She needs you right now. I'd imagine there are difficult emotions between you two, but if you truly do need to separate from her, at least let her down easily. If there is any one person on this planet you should not want to upset, I think it would be Yang, not because of how nice she may be or how sickeningly positive she is, but because she is inherently volatile. If not for her safety, help her for yours."

"I…" She had broken Yang? Yang was…writhing? Truly Blake did not know the horrors she could inflict upon another. Such cruelty could have been attributed only to the White Fang in her past, but now she knew that her own words had destroyed the indestructible. "I'm sorry," she whimpered.

"I would assume so," answered Weiss. "But I'm not the one who needs to hear that."

Without any hesitation, Blake stood from her bed, purpose renewed and mind set on consoling Yang no matter how terrible the damage might be. She looked to the open door, clenched her fists, and focused her hearing to a point down the hall. She heard a shuddering growl that could only have come from Yang who strived constantly for her façade. It was a chilling sound which caused Blake's hearing to retreat and her gaze to rest upon Weiss again. For the sake of rationality, she needed a third opinion. "Weiss?"

Again, the heiress would let out a relieved sigh as she stood and stretched her arms.

"What do you think about relationships between humans and Faunus? Are they…acceptable?"

Perhaps it was her uncharacteristically happy mood brought about by her seemingly successful date, but Weiss gave a flippant hum as she mulled the question over for a moment. Eventually, she would say with all certainty, "What do I care? The Faunus hate me as it is, so I'm sure my opinion won't hold any weight in the world overall. On top of that, you're my friend, and who you fall in love with is none of my business. Do I believe they are wrong? I'd be lying if I said no, for some part of me will always feel that way due to my rearing. But then again, I'd also be lying if I said yes. You could do a lot better than Yang, but you could as well do a lot worse than her; though, I shudder to think of what would be worse than Yang.

"No one on this team would mind a relationship between you two. You certainly have proven yourselves competent in that regard. Of course, your argument is a sizeable setback, but you will only find support among Team RWBY. It may seem wrong on different levels, a relationship between a human and a Faunus, but I would consider it acceptable if it were between you and Yang."

The heiress paused and smiled a slight smile, indicating a shift in topic. "Blake, she needs you right now. She doesn't need your argument to be taken back or your words rescinded, she simply needs you: your presence, your apology."

At this, Blake nodded and readied herself, eyes closed and fists clenched as she prepared to vault that wall of thorns which separated cowardice from bravery. Once more she nodded and decided that she was ready. Blake turned to the door, wiping away the last of her tears and began to move. However, she would be halted one more time by the heiress in ivory.

"Blake?" The Faunus turned. "Don't lose your edge. If you do, you might lose Yang in the process."

Without another word, Blake accepted and left her room in search of Yang.

She had done wrong, been a coward, and now was the time for rectification. Now was the time to repay the debt she had just incurred and to ensure that their separation would not come to pass. She had promised Yang that she would never leave her. This was a pact formed from necessity which now afflicted them both, and it was a bond that Blake would not knowingly break for any reason. The crowd was wrong, the White Fang was wrong, and most of all, Blake was wrong. Although Yang threatened the protesters, they were the ones to incite pain instead of the blonde. They were not supportive of Faunus Rights, merely oppositional-defiant in their methods to all who might argue against them. They had evoked Blake's insecurity and Yang had suffered greatly. Now was the time for rectification and apology which Yang so desperately needed.

The young Faunus exited the hall and came to a halt in the sisters' living room. At first, she tried to scan her surroundings, but she was stopped by an indomitable cold which permeated the house. She could see that the front door was closed, so this was surely not a draft, but even then, this arctic air would not be appropriate for the summer climate of Vale. Furthermore, she found with her panicked gaze that the lights of the house were somehow dimmed to a low shadow that seemed to breathe, glowing with each inhale and darkening with each shuddering exhale.

It was then that Blake heard Ruby's voice from the other room, causing her to rush to the leader's location. Upon dashing through the portal into this locale, she was halted by a sight of desolation.

Yang shook weakly as she buried her face in her hands. She neither sobbed nor gave any outward appearance of crying because she believed herself too strong for such an action. Yet she seemed frail now, broken from her usual confident self. Her ragged breaths somehow did not fog in the way the Faunus' did and she seemed only concerned with the pain of her emotions rather than of her body. She seemed pale now, paler than usual, and incredibly weak—defenseless, Blake was to observe. With words alone, Blake had destroyed a force deemed indestructible.

Ruby sat nearby, placing a hand on her sister's back and whispering quiet assurances all the while. She shook as well, but these tremors proved to be shivers with her own red ombré gown, one consonant with her regular attire and hair colors but one that was of no practical use in this cold. However, Ruby was not Blake's concern at the moment.

The closer the Faunus got to her partner, the colder the air became. Within five feet of the blonde, the air had chilled so harshly that even the tears which had pained Blake emotionally now stung her physically.

Ruby looked to Blake but did not say anything, silently pleading for help as she, herself, began to form tears. Blake looked to the young girl and nodded, causing Ruby to rest her head on Yang's shoulder as one last attempt at consolation before pulling away and standing. The young leader looked to her teammate for a moment, regarding her with a hopeful expression and then wrapped Blake in a quick, thankful hug. Without a word, Ruby retreated off into the other room to find Weiss.

It was then that Blake took Ruby's place, sitting beside her partner. Yang did not react whatsoever, still keeping her face hidden in her hands. It was doubtful that she would have noticed her partner's arrival anyways, and as such, not a word was shared between the two. Only from this distance could Blake hear the silent whimpers that emanated from the strong blonde. It was apparent that she truly was crying as she gasped for the occasional breath and mouthed her partner's name continually. This was a pain unimaginable for Yang.

Blake elected to sit in her own misery for a moment, feeling the bite of the cold air and witnessing the effects of her own reckless actions. This was not who Yang was supposed to be. This was not the tireless blonde who had always been so sunny. This was not the ever-upbeat fighter whose purpose in life seemed to be positivity and puns. Blake had destroyed a beautiful individual and crushed her into implacability. Blake had displaced her anger wrongly and now she had another name to add to her list of people she had failed.

It did not take much further thought to will the Faunus into reaching out and hugging her partner from the side. Blake wrapped her arms around Yang's shoulders, pulling her close as the girl in black buried her face into the flaxen hair and shuddered. She was so sorry. She hated herself, the crowd, the White Fang, but mostly herself. She could feel Yang's form again which had once been warm but was now a glaciated statue. Her tears began to fall again as no reaction came from the blonde. There had been a fleeting thought that ran through the Faunus' mind that her damage had been done and could never be undone now that she had broken Yang. However, a gasp was heard and the cold was suddenly lifted, bringing with it the returned light of the room and a spark of hope within the young Faunus' heart.

"Blake…?"

The girl in question shuddered again into her partner, nuzzling Yang in the hope that doing so would rekindle her warmth. "I'm here. I'm so sorry, Yang. I'm so, so sorry."

In an instant, the Faunus' arms were torn from her partner's form. She expected this action to be coupled with an animalistic scowl of hatred as would be expected from one she had betrayed, but what she found was a disbelieving grin as Yang's eyes returned to their regular lilac. Just as quickly, Blake found herself caught in a desperate hug of Yang's own, one that was strong enough to pop a few vertebrae and warm enough to be thankfully suffocating—wonderfully smothering, if Blake was to muse.

Blake took but a second to recover from her surprise before hugging Yang back and never letting go. She should not have yelled at her. She should not have doubted her. Where there was not a rift, there now was, and Blake could only hope that she could mend it in time. With the absence of the arctic chill, her tears fell freely, catching on the leather of her partner's jacket. She could see from the corner of her eye that the ghostly skin was warming to a healthier hue, and for this, she smiled weakly, if not hopefully.

They would sit there like this for a while, Yang gripping tightly onto her shivering partner and Blake taking in the accepting presence of the exuberant youth. There seemed to be no blow Yang could not withstand if she was able to rebound this quickly. Blake believed the blonde was only acting this way for her partner's sake, but there was something about the strength with which this hold was given that shifted the perceived sentiment away from appeasement to thankfulness. Yang was evidently thankful for Blake's return and Blake was thankful that Yang would accept her, argument, flaws, and all.

Eventually, Yang would come to rest her head upon Blake's shoulder in kind, leaving the two at each other's ears as they smiled slightly and treaded warily over the thin ice still beneath them. "You don't need to apologize, Blake," the blonde would whisper, her voice being unable to reach above a low decibel. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have been so aggressive with those Faunus. I…didn't know what I was doing."

"You were protecting me," Blake assured. "You knew exactly what you were doing. I was the one who acted rashly, siding with them rather than you. You were only trying to move the day along and get home, and I got mad at you."

"No, it's all right. You have every right to be mad. They were your people and I was insulting them—"

"No, Yang, you weren't." The Faunus did her best to match Yang's fervor and strength, pulling the warming form as close as possible as she shared her heat with the still cool skin of her partner's cheek. "They were insulting us. They were insulting you. Defending yourself is what we've been taught to do, and that's all that was. It doesn't matter if you threatened them; they were threatening us."

"But it was wrong." There was a conviction behind these words that could be construed in other circumstances as potentially frightened. However, Blake was talking to her partner again, and she did not seem angry. For this, the Faunus would smile and work towards mending the rift between them.

"And we know that now, so we'll never make the same mistake again."

"You mean you aren't angry?" Blake shook her head into her partner's shoulder. "And are we…are we still together?"

"Always," Blake said. "I should have never said what I did, and I now regret every word. If you'll forgive me, I will be by your side and never hold any of this against you. You're…you're family, Yang, regardless of I'm a Faunus and you're a human. I should have never favored them over you, and I'm sorry."

A wave of warmth washed over both girls as Yang sighed happily against the Faunus' neck. "Don't be," Yang said. "It's over now and we're still together. That's all that matters. We're home, you're safe, and everything's all right now.

"I love you, Blake."

The young Faunus pulled herself closer to the warm form which now shook from happiness rather than from bereavement. "I know," she said. "I know."

---

I might end up losing a few followers because of this chapter. Honestly, the story couldn't have continued on a cycle of fluffy, dour, fluffy, serious, and so on and so forth. Sometimes, a bit of tension is needed to keep the wheels spinning, and this is what this chapter was—well, more specifically, tension building more than tension itself, if you'll believe that. Although, I should not imply that this is the end of the fluff. No, there will be more fluff down the line; this is just me gearing up for the end of the fourth act and as well the entirety of the fifth.

With this chapter, we saw Blake and Yang stumble treacherously through their first argument. The result was them appearing to almost break up out of reactionary frustration and a lack of knowledge as to what to do, but then this was later rectified by their reconnection. I can see how someone could potentially see this chapter as going nowhere by its end, and I would understand that stance completely (after all, the arguments did somewhat lose their potency since the apology was included in the same chapter), but if you look at this chapter from a grander perspective, you might understand why the apology was included and why the arguments were simply brushed off by the end. As I said before, this chapter was intended to build tension. Now the seeds of doubt have been sown, uncertainty is rising between the characters and their differing motivations, and Blake and Yang's first argument is now out of the way. I'm not spoiling anything by saying this, but the arguments in this chapter will serve a greater purpose.

But I can understand how this chapter and its conflict may be stressful to a reader. And even though the ending was somewhat placating, there might be some lingering frustration because of the way Blake and Yang acted. For this, there is the short story Solace, which was written as my Christmas present to you all that does not take place during Christmas but instead during the summer break (more specifically, in the period between chapters thirteen and fourteen). It is a Bumblebee-centric story that was intended to focus on fluff. However, after reading this chapter, you might find that the memories recounted in the short story and the arguments had here share certain information.

And while I am plugging my own works, it would be wrong of me to not mention Edelweiss. Its second chapter was released mid-December of last year to a warm reception and high praise. For those of you who have an interest in White Rose or a curiosity about the goings-on between Ruby and Weiss which occur outside of Valence's narrative, then Edelweiss may interest you. Once again, I should say that the next chapter of Valence will not be released until after the next chapter of Edelweiss, as is the previously discussed schedule.

Finally, I need to thank you all for reading. I have never asked any of you to follow or favorite or review, and I doubt I ever will, so the success of this story is yours alone. Out of the kindness of your hearts, this story has (as of this chapter's posting) passed the milestone of 200 followers. Though this may not seem like a lot to some of you, this number is completely unreal to me. That you all would stick around through variances in quality, durations of more than a month without an update, and an author who is woefully inept at humanizing his writing is a testament to your kindness. I know that Valence can be all of difficult to read, wordy at times, bombastic with its aureate terms, excessive with chapter lengths, inscrutable with some of its perspectival rationalizations, impenetrable in its winding metaphors and motifs, and, most of all, pretentious on the whole, and the fact that you all have still supported this work is nothing short of astounding. Thank you for all that you have done, no matter if it has been following, favoriting, reviewing, reading, or simply observing from the shadows. Thank you so much.

Stay safe and stay tuned.

Five chapters remain.