"No, this won't do. You're far too injured to be wandering in the forest."
"But I-I feel fine."
"I mean no offence but you are a terrible liar. My decision is final, you will be staying in to rest today."
Weiss nearly blurted that Adam was likely still out there looking for her, but Violet left the tiny bedroom before she could speak up.
"I'd listen to her if I were you, Weiss," Ash said from somewhere in the house. "It's a beautiful day to be relaxing. Why not take some time to put up your feet and enjoy the scenery?"
Because a heartless murderer was looking for her.
Weiss did find it odd that Adam hasn't made a move yet. It was possible he didn't have the heart to attack his own people, or he was plotting a way to lure her out. Either way, she couldn't wait to get out of the village. It was reckless to stay in one location for too long.
"Violet will be out running some errands," Ash said, bringing a tray of food for her. "Take it easy while she's gone. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself again."
"Can I at least go out for some fresh air?" she asked. Weiss wasn't thrilled to have escaped the Manor only to stay in a cramped wooden box.
"Only if you feel up to it, kiddo. Be careful if you plan on going alone."
Weiss thanked him when he placed the tray down on her lap. To call it a meal would be a far cry. It was a simple assortment of food, consisting of sliced fruit, a glass of water, and some bread. There was more food on her plate at Beacon.
She listened to Violet and Ash's banter in the kitchen while nibbling away at her bread. If she didn't know any better, she would've thought they were a normal couple going about their life, not a Human-Faunus couple. Weiss wasn't sure why the circumstances of their relationship bothered her so much.
Weiss waited until they left the house before helping herself out of bed. Despite her protests earlier, her shoulder was stiff as a board. Even if Ash and Violet had let her leave early, she couldn't defend herself in this state. After allowing the pain to settle, she walked into the bathroom to freshen up.
Weiss grimaced at her reflection. One side of her face sported a nasty blotch of purple from where Adam punched her, and a horizontal red streak cut across her left cheek where his sword had grazed her.
She had the sudden urge to collide her fist into the mirror at the thought of what he did to her – to Yang and her classmates. Weiss glared at her reflection as if it were Adam standing in front of her.
Her hatred buried an unseen knife into her heart, further agitating her rage.
She hated that it hurt to hate him.
With a huff, she washed her face and tied her hair into its usual side ponytail. Satisfied with her appearance, she took her sword and made her way outside.
Ash wasn't wrong when he said it was a beautiful day. Weiss couldn't make out a single cloud in the sky, and the small village was bustling with activity. It was jarring to see how peaceful one part of the world was when another was still recovering from the worst Grimm attack in recent history.
The light-hearted mood shifted the further Weiss wandered from Violet's home. Like yesterday, the entire village seemed to stop what they were doing to stare at her. She tried to disregard the eyes tracking her every move, but she couldn't ignore the whispers as she passed.
"Human," some whispered.
"Atlas spy," others murmured.
"Slave owner."
The last comment irked her more than she liked to admit.
People scattered from her path like she was contagious with a deadly disease. Curious children who approached her were hastily picked up by their parents and carried home. Neighbours armed with weathered axes and swords kept their eyes glued onto her as if expecting her to go after the children of the village.
Weiss ignored the uncomfortable knot in her stomach and kept walking. After all, stupid looks and comments couldn't hurt her. Letting them scare her away would only give them power over her.
She slowed her pace when she stumbled across a group of villagers huddled near the edge of the village. What caught Weiss' attention was not the ugly sneers they all had when she approached. It was the Faunus woman with white goat ears standing amongst the crowd.
The woman wasn't from the village - Weiss could see that from the way she dressed. Unlike the villagers, her clothes were perfectly tailored without a single mismatched patch of fabric to mend any tears. She carried a staff on her back, with blades and twin bayonets attached on both ends. A glare of sunlight bounced off a stylised robin badge attached to the woman's coat.
One of the Faunus villagers whispered something into the woman's ears. Whatever he said made the woman look at Weiss as if she'd pulled a gun out to threaten them all.
Weiss turned her back on the group and hurried back to Violet's house.
"Hold on there!"
Weiss stopped, glancing over her shoulder. It was the mysterious woman who addressed her. When the stranger approached, Weiss turned so the woman had a clear view of her sword.
"What are you doing here?" the woman asked. She spoke softly, but something about her kept Weiss on edge.
"I'm staying with Violet for a bit. I got hurt while travelling."
"Is that so?" The woman frowned, sweeping her olive eyes over Weiss.
"I don't know what else you expect from me." Weiss glared at the nosy villagers watching the exchange. The villagers tensed and turned their backs on her.
Why couldn't they leave her alone? All she wanted was to get some fresh air. She didn't know it was a crime to go for a simple walk.
"How long will you be staying here?" The women pressed on.
"I don't think that's any of your business."
"The villagers deserve to know who's staying with them and for how long. It's a precaution."
"What are you? The police?"
"In a sense. I'm here to address their safety concerns."
Safety concerns? All she'd done was follow Violet into the run-down village and go out for a walk. How could that warrant safety concerns from any of these people? They didn't even know her. They had no right to treat her like some low-life criminal.
These people were crazy, plain and simple. Weiss couldn't wait to recover and get away from this place.
"I'm being honest. I plan on leaving as soon as my shoulder gets better," Weiss said with a forced smile. "If you have a problem with that, you can always talk to Violet to confirm my story."
The woman raised her brow and regarded Weiss for a moment. Despite the woman's piercing gaze, Weiss held her head up high and maintained a forced smile. There was no way she'd let some stranger intimidate her like this.
"I see…in that case, I hope you make a speedy recovery. Behave yourself, and we won't have any issues." The woman held out her hand to Weiss. "My name's Fiona."
She hesitated before accepting the handshake. Fiona's hand crushed Weiss' the moment they made contact.
"Weiss." She pulled her hand back quickly.
"I know. It's nice to meet you, Miss Schnee." Fiona winked before returning to the group of Faunus villagers.
Weiss hurried back to the privacy of Violet's house. The eyes of the Faunus villagers followed her every move as if expecting her to trip along the way.
With her plans of spending the day outside completely ruined, Weiss kept busy by exploring Violet's home. If she was going to stay for a bit longer, she might as well learn about the people housing her.
The small interior of the house didn't allow room for much furniture, but that didn't stop the couple from decorating it with their unique personalities. Framed charcoal sketches of lilies, roses, and various wildflowers sat on the hearth's mantle, contrasting the fierce collection of battle axes mounted above it. A small pile of firewood was neatly stacked beside the fireplace on one end while the other was decorated with a series of lumpy hand-crafted vases.
The kitchen was the most populated area, with an assortment of dried herbs, fruits, and jams cluttering their shelves and overflowing to their countertops. An open binder was left by the sink. Neat cursive writing detailed a recipe for blueberry pie on the inside. Weiss flipped through the binder, impressed at the many recipes Violet recorded over the years.
She frowned when the writing style suddenly changed. Intricately penned letters were now replaced with large, clumsily composed words. It was clear a child had written down the recipe.
At first, she thought the recipe was given to Violet by someone else. But the further she flipped back, the more that messy writing style continued. The final page, composed of a combination of both writing styles, detailed a recipe for chocolate cake. A star was drawn at the top corner of the page with the words his favourite written in Violet's cursive penmanship.
Not knowing what to make of the mysterious child author, Weiss closed the binder and explored the rest of the house.
Aside from the guest room and bathroom, two more closed doors were tucked away at the back of the house. An embroidered lily was hanging on one of the two doors.
She cracked the door with the embroidery on it. Inside, she was greeted with colourful children's drawings pinned to the walls. A wooden desk stood between the wall and the bed. A wall-mounted shelf, holding a dusty collection of books, was nailed above the desk. Hand-sewn animals cluttered the perfectly made bed.
Neither Violet nor Ash mentioned anything about having a kid, and there weren't any hints a child had once lived with them.
The layer of undisturbed dust inside dropped a weight into her stomach. Weiss was about to close the door when a drawing taped above the bed caught her eye. She barged inside to get a closer look at the image, her heart racing.
It was a crayon drawing of what appeared to be a boy and a girl, smiling and holding hands against a grey backdrop. She couldn't make out what the background was supposed to be, but what caught her eyes was the boy's red hair and the girl's long white hair.
Weiss examined the other drawings pinned on the walls. None of them featured the same two characters. They all seemed to have been drawn by a different artist, depicting characters and people she'd never seen before.
She looked back at the offending drawing, her heart beating faster than ever before. Upon her second inspection, she caught the two black markings on the boy's head. They looked like horns.
It had to be a freak coincidence. Kids make up all sorts of crazy scenarios. Still, what were the chances of her finding a drawing that perfectly depicted her and Adam?
In a daze, she turned her attention to the wall-mounted shelf. Of all the books on display, a particular one stood out from the rest. The book in question had no spine or cover. It was crudely sewn together with red string. Yellowed pages curled at the edges. Curious, she slid the old book out from the shelf.
Daily Journal
I hope you can find peace in recording your thoughts.
Happy birthday!
Love,
Auntie Violet
Weiss should've put the book back once she read the front. But she wanted to know who lived in this bedroom before she arrived. Who was responsible for that drawing? She glanced over her shoulder before flipping open the first page.
Her pulse quickened at the familiar penmanship filling the interior pages. Though the letters were messier and more hastily composed, there was no doubt whoever wrote this had also written in Violet's binder. She took a deep breath before delving into the first entry.
Entry 1
Auntie Violet keeps telling me to write in this thing. She says it'll make me feel better and help with my writing. It doesn't help at all. I hate it. I hate being here. I hate writing. I think writing is stupid.
The next entries followed a similar pattern. The mysterious writer vented various frustrations in short sentences and single phrases. Sometimes the author repeated what they wrote in the previous entries word for word as if trying to fill a quota. She felt a bit better by the vagueness of the entries.
Weiss quickly flipped through the book, stopping at an unusually long entry. The writing was neater. The author took extra care to pen each letter, their lettering resembling the recipes they recorded in that binder. It was the first entry where she knew the author was being genuine.
Her throat grew thick at the prospect of snooping through someone's intimate thoughts, but she only wanted to know who was responsible for that drawing. The author would didn't know her anyway. There was no harm done.
She looked warily at the crayon drawing of the boy and girl before plunging into the entry.
Entry 41
I dreamt about them again tonight.
Auntie Violet keeps telling me that it'll feel better if I talk to someone about it, but I don't want to feel better. It's my fault. I don't deserve any help. I deserve to feel like shit every single day.
If I told anyone else the truth, they'd just tell me it was her fault, but that's not what I want! They don't get it!
No one will ever understand what it's like.
I don't know what to do anymore.
I wish I followed that old guy up the waterfall before they blocked it off. I tried to sneak past the guards last week, but they caught me. Now I can't go to bed with the door closed because Auntie Violet's scared about what I'll do next. She said it was a blessing that the guards saw me, but I think it's just another sign that I can't do anything right.
Yesterday they found out someone snuck past the guards and jumped. I heard they're still trying to find their remains downstream. That should've been me.
I guess I didn't try hard enough.
Auntie Violet told me I can talk to her about anything, but I know that's a lie. She'd think I'm crazy like the rest of them if she knew the truth.
But maybe I am crazy.
It'd explain why I still miss–
"Find something interesting to read?"
Weiss yelped, the book in her hand dropping onto the floor with a dull thunk.
"V-Violet!" Weiss flushed.
Weiss couldn't look at her as Violet bent down to pick up the old journal.
"Don't you know it's rude to go through someone's journal?" Violet asked, looking over the journal for damage.
"I'm so sorry! I don't have any excuse. I completely understand if you want me to leave–"
"Leave? Don't be silly. I'm not going to kick you out for making a mistake." Violet flashed her a quick smile before returning the journal to the shelf.
Weiss wasn't sure what to expect next. If it were Father, she would already be paying severely for her actions. But there were no threats of violence from Violet - she didn't even raise her voice.
This was new territory. Weiss wasn't sure what the right words were to keep Violet from lashing out at her.
"You must be curious about this room."
"N-no."
"Says the girl caught snooping." Violet laughed, making Weiss' face burn even hotter. "I used to have children stay with me, but it's been years since I've had to care for a hurt child. I don't have the heart to throw out their belongings."
Weiss' ears rung from the silence hanging in the small room. The words written by the nameless author still burned painfully in her mind.
"W-what do you mean by a hurt child?" Weiss breathed.
"Hmm…I wonder what indeed." Violet gave a curious look. Weiss wasn't sure what to make of it, but she didn't like how Violet looked as if she expected Weiss to provide an answer.
"Well, perhaps that will be a story for another time." Violet's entire demeanour relaxed. "I brought home some wild blueberries. If you're feeling up to it, can you help me wash them so we can make some delicious pie later?"
"H-huh?" Weiss blurted. Had she heard that right?
"Pie. A sweet custardy dessert? Surely you've had pie before."
She was being serious. Weiss nodded numbly and followed Violet out of the old bedroom.
"I'm really sorry I went snooping," Weiss insisted again as Violet poured blueberries into a strainer. "I knew it was a bad idea, but I still let my curiosity get the better of me and–"
"I know you're sorry. Don't stress yourself out about it," Violet chimed. "Chin up, dear. What's done is done. As long as you don't do it again, there's no problem at all."
"But aren't you…mad?"
"No good comes from being upset over a small mistake. If you still want to make it up to me, be a dear and help me get some ingredients out. Cooking is much more fun with another person around!"
The journal incident wasn't brought up again. Weiss' anxiety settled as Violet's nonchalant attitude towards her continued, but her curiosity was still unsatisfied.
Where did all those hurt children come from? And who was the one responsible for that drawing?
The unanswered questions haunted her all through the night.
The next day, when Weiss found herself alone in the house again, she tested the door to the infamous bedroom. Her heart skipped a beat when the doorknob turned without resistance, letting the door swing wide open.
If Weiss were in Violet's shoes, she wouldn't dare to leave the house without locking away every valuable item.
She slammed the door shut and hurried back into the tiny living room, opting to read one of the books Ash had left her before leaving that morning. Weiss didn't know why Violet was being so kind to her, but she had no intentions of breaking her trust any time soon.
Special thanks to Yeet and a Guest reader for the reviews!
Yeet has got their priorities straight with the whole outfit change comment lolol. You'll just have to see what I have in mind.
Lemme know what you guys think and see you again tomorrow!