Chapter Six: Follow The Leader

Petals in the Ash

Allison Illuminated

Chapter Publish Date: 5/14/20

Ruby Rose, you insufferable genius, how in the name of Remnant did you build this thing?

Cinder Fall didn't do attachments. They weren't in her vocabulary – she had pawns, who were useful, allies, who were too powerful to become her pawns, and adversaries, which included nearly everyone who didn't fall into one of those two categories. The only person in her past life who hadn't fit into those categories was Salem, the woman who had taken Cinder's hunger for power and her autonomy and twisted them beyond her own recognition. Salem had been her master, for all the term curdled Cinder's blood.

Now, Cinder could slot Salem into her adversary column without a second thought, right next to Ozpin where she belonged. The duo could burn in hell together for all she cared. No, now her complications were messier – she could write off Schnee as an adversary, and begrudgingly slot Pyrrha and Yang in as allies, but her most complex feelings were toward… well…

Herself.

Living in another person's body had the inevitable side effect of a deep, unbreakable intimacy with the other person. A certain respect had to be paid to Ruby Rose, who had taken Cinder's life away yet somehow given her another. The girl had been foolish and naive and powerful and so young that it hurt when Yang felt the need to give Cinder an extra hug before a training exercise, or Cinder found herself squirreled away in the common room on the couch late at night, staring at the photo of Summer Rose, lost in thought. She wasn't Ruby, but Ruby wasn't gone. She remained in the echoes, the expectations, the small touches in personal affects, in Cinder's memories of the future. Cinder came to feel a tender affection for Ruby, as alien as the feeling was to her – she could not deny its existence – and found herself thinking of the girl whom she had ejected from her body as more than a vessel. More than a template. This feeling was more than the veneration an actress gives to her greatest role. Cinder was Ruby. She couldn't put a label to it, not in any small part because Cinder was afraid any label she could bestow would be contrary to the nature of what kept her Cinder Fall.

She grew more and more comfortable in Ruby's body with each passing day. Playing around with her make-up set, it became a game to Cinder to dress the Ruby in the mirror up, matching her body to the image of the Ruby who had ascended Beacon Tower – bringing out the warrior and leader Cinder had admired in Ruby, although she would have never admitted it before the time jump, and hiding away the scared little girl.

Cinder couldn't do love and emotion like Ruby. But she knew respect. She did her best to treat Yang like a sister and Pyrrha like a friend because she respected Ruby. Her respect for Ruby had led Cinder down to the weapons lab to try and figure out how to use Crescent Rose, rather than scrap the oversized scythe and reforge her dual blades. Cinder had seen that Crescent Rose was a masterwork from the moment she touched it.

Now Cinder's respect for Ruby's craftsmanship had risen in her estimation twofold. Ruby had called Crescent her baby. She understood.

It had taken her three and a half hours to figure out how to dissemble and reassemble the intricate machinery. Each gear slotted into the compact rifle snugly. The scythe unfolded so fast, and with such efficiency, that Cinder barely believed it. The segments of the red hilt were custom jobs, well-painted, with a bright chrome paint that looked factory new with a little wash. A custom alloy, Cinder decided. She ran a delicate finger along the blade, and drew a thin line of blood. Cinder stuck the finger in her mouth and thought.

She's too valuable not to use, she decided. The blade is too iconic to Ruby – changing to a different weapon would draw too many questions. Somebody trained the girl and trained her well: Qrow Branwen. As soon as the thought dawned on Cinder, she froze. No, no, no. I cannot have Qrow Branwen onto me. I have to learn the scythe.

Which was not an easy task. She hadn't even been able to take down an Ursa with Crescent Rose – asking her to master an unusual, specialized weapon to the level of an expert like Branwen was a tall task to the point of being impossible. But Cinder had never given much thought to the impossible.

Hefting Crescent Rose, she strode out to the practice area and gave the scythe a swing. The blade cut through the air in deadly silence. Dead. Turning, she flipped the blade and sliced back, spinning in a circle to slice through an imaginary enemy behind her. Dead and dead. Arcs and spins. The faster I go, the harder it is to block. That tip could break marble. I've figured out her semblance; if I could at least get a basic handle on the scythe, I could fight like a really big blender.

Cinder curled her lip in distaste. It's a start.

Crescent Rose shifted back into a compact rifle, which Cinder hefted, popping the scope, and imagined blasting an enemy's head off. Her imagination concocted Weiss Schnee. Now, a sniper rifle she knew how to use – and Ruby's rifle was far heftier and more compact than most. She could bludgeon someone with it.

I could bludgeon somebody with it.

She grinned a wicked grin. Her two step plan came into focus. Cinder would make it her mission to surpass Ruby with the scythe, and make her glorious red hunk of a weapon her own. In the meantime, she could add a few modifications to Crescent Rose of her own…

Glynda Goodwitch was not half as smart, nor half as good, as she believed. The women had a blind spot when it came to students, ignoring harassment and dissent in favor of Ozpin's agenda; she was his instrument, tweaking and arranging, and nothing more. A waste of a perfectly good telekinesis semblance, if you asked Cinder. Cinder had gotten remarkably good at reading and manipulating Goodwitch during her time posing at Beacon – getting her way in combat class was as simple as picking a fight with Weiss on their way into the room, something as easy to pull off as stepping on the other's toes.

"Hey!" Weiss crowed, jumping up and down on one foot. "What did you do that for?"

Ruby smiled. "Oops."

"I'm wearing heels, you dunce!"

"You're always wearing heels!"

"Ooh boy," Yang said. She nudged Pyrrha, pointing at the duo. "Here they go again. How long do you think it'll take them to calm down this time, an hour?"

Like clockwork, Glynda snapped her head up and zeroed in on Cinder and Weiss – Cinder noticed out of the corner of her eye, but Weiss was too busy furiously concocting a response to see – just like Cinder had intended, the pathetic little gears in Goodwitch's brain turning as fast as they could, noting the discord. Cinder held back a smile. Now to make it look good.

"You should watch where you're going, you know?" she said conversationally to Weiss. "This is combat class, after all – shouldn't you be thinking about your form?"

Yes, that'll do the trick nicely.

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

Cinder poured the mock concern into her voice, pasting an innocent look on her face. "You could trip in battle," she said. "Can you really fight in those things anyways? Our team might be in danger!"

Weiss gaped at Cinder in outrage – Cinder could read the words on her expression: you're the one who tripped and almost died in the Emerald Forest! She didn't care. Cinder had accepted the deep weakness that had overcome her in her first few days in the past and moved on. She'd feel shame again when another time travel approached and told her they'd coped with the shock better than almost dying.

"Ruby has a point," Pyrrha added, genuinely concerned. Cinder cheered inside. I love it when Nikos does my dirty work for me! It never failed, from the moment she'd gotten Nikos to kill the robot girl. "It may be worth exploring more utilitarian options. If you'd like, I could help you select something that fits your style?"

So genuine. So earnest. Cinder honest-to-good was proud of Nikos for how she'd taken Cinder's not-so-subtle dig at Weiss and had used it to try and make friends.

Like an overheated tea kettle, Weiss exploded. "I am perfectly capable at making my own fashion selections!" she exclaimed. Pyrrha flinched, and looked away, downtrodden. "And you!" Weiss said, rounding on Ruby. "I don't think you have any right to be lecturing me on form, given how you have a track record of almost getting yourself killed."

And here she came. Glynda Goodwitch, protector of the small, champion of students, wearing a stern frown tapping her riding crop against her arm. "Girls!" she said, shutting Weiss up. "I will not tolerate fighting in my class outside of the ring. Go sit down."

"Yes Ms. Goodwitch..."

Cinder shot Glynda a grateful smile as she passed under her watchful gaze, smirking internally. Predictable. Now, I wonder who she'll pair up first.

Team PWYR slid into their seats around the combat class arena, the crowd of first year students around them engaged in animated discussion, and waited for class to begin. Weiss was sulking like a child while Yang consoled a disconsolate Pyrrha. Cinder was content to sit by and watch the room, running over what she knew about her classmates. Cardin Winchester, fool and bully. Blake Belladonna, faunus, Taurus' weakness. Jaune Arc, irrelevant.

Actually, what was the Arc boy's semblance? Cinder knew of his past romance with Nikos, but she'd always suspected they'd only gotten together through proximity – with Nikos and Belladonna on different teams, another marker of how she'd changed the past, she suspected it would never come to be. That was for the best. Nikos was out of Arc's league.

Not that Cinder cared. She had no time for romance.

She leaned in before Weiss could react and kissed the heiress on the lips, luxuriating in the surprise on the other's face. Cinder drew away slowly, giving Weiss a seductive smile, and turned away. "There's your bone." She would twist Weiss into knots and take away every last thing she cared about before she brought Weiss to her knees and killed her.

"Ruby?" Yang elbowed Ruby in the side. "Ruby. Stop daydreaming and pay attention!"

Daydreaming? I'm not daydreaming, I'm plotting, Cinder thought, annoyed. She turned to the arena.

"I said, Miss Rose, you're up for the first fight against Miss Schnee," Glynda said, tapping her foot impatiently. Weiss, who had already gotten onto the battlefield, shot daggers at Cinder. Giving her best apologetic smile, Cinder grabbed Crescent Rose and skipped down to the arena. Sometimes her plans worked too well!

Whatever. She had what she wanted – Weiss Schnee as target practice, and a chance to bring their team leader down a peg.

Glynda stepped back, and the scoreboard came to life, displaying the levels of Cinder and Weiss' auras. Cinder hefted the sniper rifle into her arms, stroking the top where she'd installed her surprise, and watched Weiss primly draw Myrtenaster with an unimpressed look. "The rules are simple," Glynda said. "You will duel until one of you reaches the red zone of your aura. There will be no killing or maiming, nor shenanigans of any sort. Any use of your weapons or aura is acceptable. You may not leave the ring, but if you are knocked out, you may attempt to return. You will be graded based on demonstrated improvement from past sessions – if you have not yet fought in the class, that baseline will be your initiation. You may begin."

All Cinder heard was fight. She gave Weiss her cockiest look and smiled – she already had Weiss angry, which was more than what she needed to win. "Come and get me, Ice Queen."

Eyes narrowed, Weiss readied her rapier, a shimmering white glyph forming beneath her feet, and launched herself at Cinder.

Training hard and smart had been beaten into Cinder's head by Salem, who had taken Cinder from a passable duelist to an assassin. It was worse than useless train a wrong instinct hard, so Cinder had been downright delicate in selecting how she used Crescent Rose. Video footage. Books. She hunted down every last scrap of information she could find on Qrow Branwen and scythe fighting and drew out a fighting style, one move at a time, drilling them into her head and body – and her body remembered. The muscle memory was there. Ruby Rose's body remembered every fight she'd ever been in, and Cinder leaned fast that if a motion didn't come effortless to her, it was wrong. From muscle memory, she was on her way to resurrecting a dead girl's fighting style.

She slashed through Weiss' path, spinning on the reverse to catch her momentum. Weiss ducked. She'll use dust. Cinder brought the scythe up and spun it as fast as possible before her, deflecting the crystal, which exploded against the side barrier, her movements clumsy but assured. Using Crescent Rose properly was exhausting, mentally and physically. Offense. Cinder jumped at Weiss, using her 'blender' move, a semblance-enhanced spin, and tore through the wall of ice Weiss created like wet paper – Weiss dodged, and managed to score a hit on Cinder's leg as she flew by. Her aura trembled.

Fuck.

Using Ruby's style was important, but Cinder wasn't good enough yet to score a hit. It looked dangerous, sure, but it took more than a week's intensive practice to become a killing machine with such a non-standard weapon. She hacked and slashed, using Ruby's semblance to try and gain an edge, but, ultimately, she failed. Weiss panted and had to pause to catch her breath, but she was unscathed. "That's the best you've got?" she called.

Cinder scowled at Weiss' patronizing look. She'd had it. She'd given Ruby's fighting style its honest try, its workout for the day, and had definitively proved something she'd always known – your fighting style was a part of who you were, as surely as your face or hair.

Sorry Rose. My turn.

A demonic smirk crossed Cinder's face as she tapped into her aura, drawing on Ruby's semblance, summoning part of the manic energy she'd discovered in her caffeine rush that seemed to fuel Ruby's powers. She rose into the air, her torso turning to petals, and held out her scythe to one side like an executioner.

Weiss blinked. "What."

With the press of one button, Crescent Rose retracted to its sniper rifle form. With another, a shield of red energy formed around the blunt end of the rifle, turning it into an effective club in Cinder's hand, blazing with red dust energy.

Her prey still didn't seem to get it. "What."

Now, what was the pettiest thing Cinder could say?

"You know, we could stop now, if you wanted," Cinder offered, meeting Weiss' eyes before deliberately trailing her eyes down her body. "I would hate if you had to take your fancy dress to the tailor when you don't have your butler to make the trip for you. Walking all that way in heels..."

Weiss's glance flickered down to her beautiful pale blue dress and turned red with rage. She whipped a glare back up to Cinder and shrieked with wordless anger. The only warning Cinder got was the telltale sound of a Schnee glyph before the heiress was on top of her.

Well, that did the trick.

Fighting was far more fun with semblances. Cinder and Weiss danced around in midair, trading blows and performing fancy acrobatic stunts – rather, Cinder danced and performed stunts she'd grown fond of as a Maiden, relishing the familiar freedom of flight, while Weiss tried as best as possible to stab her. Her club-rifle wasn't elegant or refined, but it gave Cinder far more options than the scythe. They clashed in midair, the collision of dust sending a shockwave into the protective barrier.

"You know nothing about my butler," Weiss hissed in a righteous tone.

Cinder kept up her smirk, hoping the heiress could see the depths of her loathing for her in her eyes. "So you admit I'm right."

"I admit that you're infuriating!"

Zipping out of the way of a stab of ice, Cinder went to the arena floor to catch her breath and a glimpse of the scoreboard. She was losing, but not by much; they were both down past 50%. Fun times had to end. Rose's body didn't have the aura she needed to sustain maiden-style combat for long – no, she didn't need her superior combat experience and magical knowledge to defeat a seventeen-year-old nuisance. Maybe in a zero-sum situation. Cinder was expanding her notions of what limits meant in Ruby's body, which seemed to bend the laws of physics and reality in ways her old body hadn't (until Salem had begun to modify her), and she hadn't even figured out how to tap into Ruby's eye powers yet.

Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by explosions.

She played with Weiss for another minute, deflecting blows and landing her own. Weiss began to lose ground. Time to end this.

"Hey, Weiss!"

"What?" Exasperated, Weiss skidded to a halt, her rapier at her side, and made a face at Cinder. "What could possibly be important enough for you to interrupt our battle agai-"

Clang.

Cinder stood over Weiss' unconscious form, pursing her lips, tapping Crescent Rose against her palm and considering the spot on Weiss' head where there would be a large bruise soon. "Do people always forget I have a speed semblance?" she mused, cocking her head.

"I suspect that may be a more frequent occurrence than you think, Miss Rose." Glynda walked into the arena and waved her riding crop over Weiss, who drowsily came too. "A fact which you should take advantage of in a more prudent manner – a more experienced opponent would expect the feint after how central you made your semblance to your style earlier in the battle. I am glad you are not as incompetent in battle as your performance in the Emerald Forest would have suggested. Miss Schnee." Weiss shook her head free of unconsciousness and struggled to her feet. "Your form when faced with the scythe was excellent. Your response to unexpected challenges was not. And I suggest that you work on your temper, unless you intend to lose every battle where your enemy taunts you."

Huh, who knew? Cinder thought. The Witch can actually teach when she feels like it. I suppose Ozpin had her loosen her instruction around the foreign pupils – or perhaps she was otherwise occupied.

"I don't have a temper!" Weiss exclaimed, jabbing an accusing finger at Cinder. "The only person who makes me this angry is her."

Glynda raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Forgive me. I suggest you work on your problem with Miss Rose. She is your partner, and you will fight together often and in more dire situations than this. Losing your head in battle can mean losing a limb. Or your life. Teamwork is essential."

My piece of work.

Weiss lifted a prideful sneer and walked back to her seat without acknowledging Cinder.

Feeling as though she'd forgotten something important, Cinder followed behind her, slotting Crescent Rose on her belt and sliding into place next to Yang. Yang shot her an odd look, which deepened the feeling. What's that for? Cinder thought irritably. I won. I showed up Weiss. The victory felt empty with the way Yang looked at her. She'd expected… Well, Cinder had expected nothing from Yang, but Yang had a way of giving Cinder looks that made her feel alien in her own skin – as absurd as it was to call her skin her 'own.'

Only when Cinder was trailing the rest of her team out of the classroom did it come to her. Or, rather, he came to her.

"Miss Rose?"

Freezing, Cinder slowly turned toward the voice and paled at the sight of Ozpin, standing near the door, leaning on his gear cane with a bemused expression. She had not had any direct contact with the man since she'd come to the past. Instinct and training asserted themselves. I am Ruby Rose. Nervous, hiding the shake in her hands, Cinder scratched the back of her head and laughed, for once thankful for Ruby's high and reedy voice. "Oh, Professor Ozpin! I, uh, didn't see you there..."

"That's quite alright," Ozpin said, his tone indulgent. "I'd expect you would be celebrating your victory over Miss Schnee right now. After all, I've heard you two have struck up quite a rivalry."

Whatever Cinder had thought would come out of Ozpin's mouth, it wasn't that. He spoke gently, his words soft but padded with hidden meaning – an adult speaking to a child. If there was a sharpness in his eyes, it was a product of his age or his… tendencies, not overt suspicion and animosity. Perfectly crafted. A near impenetrable facade.

She didn't buy it for a second. He's on to me. But he knows nothing. Occam's Razor. I throw him no bones, and he won't bite. Terror nearly struck her silent, and she had to fight to conceal it from her words.

Ruby is good. Ruby is awkward. Ruby isn't a spiteful, arrogant bitch.

"I hated how initiation went," Cinder said, knowing better than to lie to Ozpin. Paint the lies in a veneer of the truth. "I wanted to prove to her that I'm not a useless partner! I don't… mean to be mean to her; she just gets under my skin. Maybe I got a little carried away..."

She detested her performance in initiation. The way Weiss looked at her with pity made her want to scream – Cinder would accept nothing less than fear or respect. Her life would certainly be easier if she didn't pursue her vendetta against the Schnee, and it would make posing as Ruby Rose so much easier, but she had no interest in backtracking on her plans. They were the only plans she had, and Cinder Fall was a planner.

If she had attracted Ozpin's attention, she'd done worse than get carried away. Slipping, Fall. You're slipping and it's going to get you killed.

In that moment, Cinder's mistake slapped her full-on in the face. She had gotten so focused on beating Weiss that she'd forgotten the point in trying to master Ruby's style in the first place: to blend in, and not make it obvious that Cinder didn't have an inkling how to fight like her. Cinder had never been a good imitator. Her fighting style was as signature as Ruby's, and rather than use Ruby's, she'd found a way to brute force hers into Ruby's body. In the heat of the battle, she'd forgotten important principles like hide your hand and let them underestimate you and don't fight like a maiden around Ozpin.

Ozpin nodded sagely – if he was onto her, he gave her no indication. "Miss Schnee can be a challenge at time, I'm sure. But you might find that even the hottest rivalries can become close friendships. I'm sure your relationship with your partner will improve."

Cinder made a face at the idea. "I don't see how I could be friends with her."

"Why is that?"

I see what you're doing, you cunning old man. She couldn't help herself, though; the truth would met her the best results and she really was angry at Weiss. So Cinder did the impossible – she confessed her feelings to her greatest enemy. "I should have been the leader of Team PWYR," she declared, crossing her arms and shooting Ozpin a petulant look. "Or if not me, then at least you could have given it to Pyrrha. Weiss is an arrogant, spoiled brat who has no business ordering other people around!"

Ozpin hummed and nodded, taking a sip from her coffee cup. Through her fear, Cinder felt strangely vindicated. She hadn't gotten a real chance to vent since she'd been rudely thrust into the past, and as the words left her mouth, she became more and more convinced that Ozpin wasn't on to her. How could he be? Her situation was fundamentally absurd; who would believe in a story of time travel and body snatching from the lips of a fifteen-year-old? There were a million explanations more likely than the truth – Cinder could speak frankly and allow Ozpin to draw the wrong conclusions, especially if he cared more about her hatred for Weiss than her fighting style.

"I disagree."

"What?" But you made Ruby Rose captain of her team? How can you disagree? The position is supposed to be Ruby's!

The position is supposed to be mine.

"I think Weiss is suited to the role of team leader," Ozpin said. "Her performance in the Emerald Forest demonstrated a clear aptitude for problem-solving and leadership. Being a good leader does not necessarily stem from being nice or friendly, Miss Rose. Some of the best leaders I have ever known have been thoroughly unpleasant people, but their decisions have saved my life many times." He gave her a stern smile. "You belong at Beacon. I thought your performance in the ring today was exemplary, although perhaps a little mean-spirited. But you are still young, Miss Rose, a gift which you should not be so quick to give away. Don't be so quick to seize responsibility – I think it more important that we take the time to learn how to live."

Cinder burned with righteous fury, both for her sake and for Ruby's. Ozpin didn't know what he had taken away from Ruby! He didn't know what she had lost! She had died and been reborn – what could Ozpin know of that? What right did the spiteful headmaster have to praise both her and Weiss in the same breath, when it was clear to her that they were both terrible people? By the time all of this had passed through her head, Ozpin had given her a knowing nod and turned to walk away.

"But-"

Ozpin turned and leveled her a flat look. Cinder quailed.

She wasn't young.

She had taken on the mantle of the Fall Maiden and wielded the power of the gods.

She had been forced to her knees in front of Salem, tortured, unmade.

She had killed more people than she cared to remember. She had ruined more lives than she cared to count. Her mantra was power – the fabric of her being fire – the nature of her soul dark and unremitting.

Cinder was no child, but she could say none of that to Ozpin. She could only look at him with helpless anger and thinly-veiled desperation.

He looked at her and saw a child.

"I believe there is something beautiful in a true rivalry," Ozpin said softly. "It is a gift to feel so strongly about another. I hope you can learn to use your passion to build Miss Schnee up rather than tear her down, Miss Rose. You might find more value in your partnership than you think."

Watching Ozpin walk away, Cinder stewed in the sense that she had lost an argument and bit down on a scream.

The glass rested at an angle beneath the quiet nighttime lights, glossing over the old photograph of Summer Rose, who eternally smiled under the picture frame. Cinder held the picture, curled up on a couch in the common room. She ran her thumb up and down the wooden frame. Ruby was so much smaller than her; she took up less space now, in her rose pajamas she still hadn't replaced, lost in thought. Summer offered comfort, but no answers.

I killed your daughter, Cinder said to Summer in her head, meeting Summer's inanimate eyes. I didn't mean to. One second she was here, and then I was here instead. I guess, since she sent me back to the past, in some twisted way, she's the one who did it.

I'm… sorry.

Cinder felt dangerously close to crying again, an urge she shoved down into the lockbox where she kept the rest of her useless emotions. Her sense of loss was acute, but this was more than simple loss. She felt grief. For Ruby. She was grieving for a nemesis, for a girl who wasn't dead but no longer existed. The portrait of Summer Rose offered her some comfort – aside from Crescent Rose, it was the most meaningful thing to Ruby that she possessed.

Who are you to me now? she wondered, looking at Summer. I can't return to the future. I don't know how to. I can't live as Cinder Fall, I can't return to Salem, I can't trust Ozpin, I can't even pretend to be Ruby. Everything I try I fail.

Biologically, are you my mother now?

In her past life, Cinder Fall had never known her parents. She had come from nothing – a street rat, an orphan, no better than Grimm bait. To have a mother seemed artificial and wrong.

This is pathetic, Cinder thought, a hot tear trickling down her face. Here I am, talking to a picture of a dead woman, in the body of a dead girl who cared for her.

She loved us.

No she didn't.

I miss her.

Shut up.

"Ruby?"

Oh, great. Exactly who Cinder wanted to see. Yang Xiao-Long, wearing her most concerned face, walked into the common room and sat down next to Cinder, dabbing at the tear on Cinder's face. She turned her cheek away. "I'm fine."

Yang laughed softly, shaking her head and pulled Cinder into a hug. Sullen, Cinder allowed it; in all her dealings with Yang, she had never offered her anything less than emotional comfort. It made no sense to Cinder, but Yang gave good hugs.

"It's okay, Rubes," Yang said, stroking her hair. "It's been a hard month. Hell, I know I couldn't have started Beacon early – I was a mess when I was your age. You've been really brave."

Cinder bit back a laugh of her own. She didn't feel brave. She felt like a murderer and a coward, too weak to claim her own identity. A pesky conscience she'd been convinced she had disposed of years ago was acting up, interfering with her ability to think and act. "You don't have to lie to me. I've done awful."

"No, you haven't. Your fight today was incredible. I've never seen you move like that with your semblance – when did you learn to control it like that?"

"Practice," was a flimsy lie that Yang seemed to buy. "I wanted to have more options. In case..."

"You're still upset over initiation," Yang said, her lilac eyes holding an understanding Cinder disliked. "That's why you've been having trouble with Crescent, isn't it? I know you've been avoiding using the scythe, and that's okay; I just want you to remember how much you love using that weapon, okay? She's your-"

"My baby," Cinder mumbled, eyes downcast.

Yang smiled. "See, there's the spirit. It'll come back to you, I promise. And if you're still having trouble, I'm sure when Uncle Qrow gets back he'll be more than happy to help you work it out. You don't have to turn Crescent into another weapon just cause you screwed up once, okay? I think you can use the new fighting style you came up with Crescent and you'll kill it, right? You dig?"

"Yeah."

For a while, they sat quietly side by side. People came through the common area, giving them passing glances and waves. Cinder rested her head on Yang's shoulder, feeling low, guilty for not being Ruby, wishing she knew more about Ruby Rose. Yang loved Ruby like a sister – Ruby was dead. She was an impostor. The love and comfort Yang gave to Cinder was false, aimed at another woman.

"Yang?"

Her voice was quiet and weak.

"What's up?" Yang said.

"Can you tell me a story?" Cinder said.

"Sure," said Yang. "About what?"

"Why do you and I have different last names?"

Yang's face darkened, and Cinder winced when she realized she'd hit a touchy spot. She honestly hadn't meant to. The question had irked her for a long time, demanding an answer that wasn't immediately clear – even before her jaunt through the past – and direct questions were easier than research. "We have different moms, you know that, right?"

Cinder hesitantly nodded. She hadn't, and it didn't make sense, because if their last names were different shouldn't they have different fathers? She was beyond the point of questioning small mysteries.

"Our moms, Dad, and Uncle Qrow were all on a team together," Yang explained, reaching over to touch Ruby's portrait. "Team STRQ. They were elite, I think – Dad said Ozpin sent them on lots of special missions. Dad fell in love with my mom, Raven Branwen, and they had me. Then Raven left."

The look of old hurt and anger took Cinder aback – it was an expression she would never have expected on Yang's face in a million years, a telltale sign of an old scar, an unhealed wound.

Yang continued. "Dad fell in love with Mom, then. Summer." She gestured at the portrait. "And they had you. I dunno why you have her last name. I guess maybe they thought it sounded cooler? I know Mom's family goes way back, you know, maybe she was one of those old families that cares about their last name – like, I think Pyrrha's family is like that, and maybe Jaune's too. Or maybe they wanted to be true to the color rule – Ruby Rose sounds a lot more red than Ruby Xiao-Long."

Cinder grimaced at the mention of the color rule – her own name didn't follow it particularly well, and she'd always thought of it as a contrivance of modern society. "I like the first one better," she said. "Color is a stupid reason for us not to have the same last name."

"You always did like the idea of fairy tales," Yang said, pinching Cinder's cheek to her protests. "Who knows? Maybe somewhere way back you've got a king in your family, or you've got some inherited superpower or something. 'The Lineage of the Roses...' I like your name."

"Me too," Cinder admitted, surprised to find it was the truth. Ruby Rose was a good name, a strong name, for a girl who matched the bill. She felt like she had to comment on Summer somehow, but she didn't know enough, and the death of her mother was so intrinsic to what Cinder knew about Ruby that to ask a question about it felt wrong. She had to go with a simple admonition of fact. "She's dead."

Yang sighed, following her glance down to the photo of Summer. "She is." She tightened her hold around Cinder. "She was such a good mom," she said. "For both of us. I know that somewhere she's watching us and she's proud of you, Rubes. I know she is. Cause I'm proud of you too."

You wouldn't say that if you knew the truth.

Cinder closed her eyes and leaned against Yang. Her 'sister' had given her too much – she had to give her something in return, something genuine to what Ruby would have done. Yang deserved to know how Ruby would have felt, not the half-life Cinder was living.

Take the time to learn how to live.

"I love you, Yang," Cinder whispered.

"I love you too."

The problem with living was you had to be alive to do it. Cinder was dead, and so was Ruby. She couldn't change – Ozpin would have to learn he was barking up the wrong tree. She wouldn't change. She would get her revenge on Weiss.

From a shadowed corridor, Weiss stood pressed against the wall and watched the two sisters cuddle on the couch. She heard the whispered 'I love you's, watch Yang wrap her arm tighter around Ruby. Something ugly twisted in her chest, a loneliness, born from years of isolation and cold, tempered by the swirls of… something she felt toward her partner, spinning like snow flurries at the edge of Atlas's heated climate control in the sky. Professor Port's words echoed in her mind, sound advice about leadership and teamwork, but nothing of use for dealing with Ruby. Her partner was an enigma she could not unfold, no matter if she'd let Ruby think otherwise. There was something there, something ugly like the darkness in her, that called to her, that the others didn't, something dangerous.

She remembered the taste of her lips.

This was the Ruby who had humiliated her in combat class, who had toyed with her like she was nothing. This was the Ruby who had sniveled over her sister one second and turned around to cut into Weiss' armor the next. The girl whose life she had saved in the Emerald Forest. The girl she hated with all of her heart for ruining the start of her Beacon experience. Ruby Rose was the most infuriating, cruel, illogical person she had ever met. This was the Ruby who had kissed her.

She watched Ruby fall asleep against Yang's shoulder and slipped away, lost in thought.

[A/N] Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Allison Illuminated masterclass on how to resurrect a dead fic. First you deliver something short and sweet to remind people your fic exists, then you hit them with a massive, fat chapter to remind them why they liked it – and why they need more.

Holy shit guys. You delivered the second most reviews I've ever gotten on a chapter last time. If y'all keep feeding me good like this, it's hard not to be motivated to keep writing.

Anyways Cinder is struggling with Ruby's fighting style and her new situation, feeling (what's this?) actual human emotion toward Ruby. It's hard to hate someone when you are them – self-loathing is easy, but even the worst self-loathing is of a different tenor than the blind hate you feel for an enemy. It's the hatred that comes from knowledge, not ignorance. And Ozpin definitely knows more than he lets on… He did, after all, create the maidens; not that Cinder knows that.

Did I give Weiss a bit of a powerup to give her half a chance against a weakened Cinder? Yes. She's probably closer to Volume Two combat level here. In my justification, I subscribe to Mr. Oum's school for the Rule of Cool, and badass anime girl fights do help a romance out quite a bit ;) Never fear, I'm quite aware of broken power scaling, and Cinder will very quickly outstrip Weiss on her superior combat knowledge alone.

Also, Cinder mods Crescent Rose out of frustration. Swinging a scythe around isn't easy, after all. If I didn't know better, I'd say she and Ruby have something in common there…

Thank you to (deep breath) Diamond1234, 5th Dimension, Infinity-Mosz, merendinoemiliano, Mr. G0d, TheHolyBlade, FirstEcho, TacoKing23, Izunama, Popei, Kyve, Oll, Gamer, ItCanOnlyGetWorse, Ozark, KING, DLFangrill, buzzy147, LOL, Zustrai, and Varder, plus 4 guests for reviewing/commenting! Your feedback means the world to me you have no idea.

Love you guys. Hope you're ready next time for some Forever Fall shenanigans and Yang's awkward flirting.

Cheers, Allie