Yang knew that she probably looked like a petulant toddler throwing a tantrum to the academy students around her as she stomped along through the halls, but she didn't care at all. Her combat boots thumped into the carpet as she walked, fists balled and shaking. Yang could feel that there were several pairs of eyes on her back, and she did her best to ignore them entirely. A particular set of eyes had been following her for quite some time, and with every footfall, she waited for their owner to finally say something and give her an excuse to go off and make a scene.
The opportunity never came.
On and on Yang walked, weaving through hallways to try to lose her stalker as she picked up the pace. Eventually, she had worked herself up into a jog and made a sharp turn before pushing open the first door she saw and ducking inside. What awaited her was something that Yang wasn't at all prepared for, and her heart sank into her stomach at the familiar sight.
The empty lecture hall that Yang had stumbled into was an almost exact copy of the ones she had sat in so many times before while attending Beacon Academy. Just a year ago, the prospect of slipping into the stadium seating would have been a drag that could only end in Yang being bored to tears by material she had already studied on her own to prepare for life at Beacon. In that moment, however, Yang wanted nothing more than to shuffle into a row and sit down to hear a lecture about anything other than the current situation. She could practically envision her sister sitting next to her and scribbling on an otherwise empty page, Weiss giving the younger girl an annoyed look as she took notes in perfect cursive, and Blake listening attentively. The thought stung and brought the beginnings of tears to the corners of her eyes.
Things were so much simpler back then.
A flood of emotions came rushing through her all at once as she ascended the steps between rows, her hand running along the metal railing in the dark room. Part of Yang wanted to turn around and run back into the hall, and yet, she continued her ascent as if her body was on autopilot. If someone had asked her why she was bothering at all, Yang wouldn't have had an answer. Her footsteps upon the staircase were the only sounds within the cavernous room until the creak of a door opening echoed behind her.
As Yang turned and sat down in one of the seats in the back row, she found Harriet standing by the door of the room, looking annoyed. The older woman had her scroll out, and with a single tap, a faint click signaled that the door had been locked remotely. Harriet stuffed her scroll back into a pocket before moving to follow Yang up into the seats. The blonde said nothing as the Ace sat quietly beside her. Yang tried to busy her mind with looking at the sparsely decorated room- a math classroom, going by the equations scribbled in chalk all over the board behind a vacant lectern.
Seconds passed in silence. Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to impatience, and Yang inhaled sharply as she furrowed her brows and stared at an equation she didn't quite understand with as much hatred as she could muster for the innocent set of numbers and letters.
"…how can you possibly be fine with the notion of Ironwood ordering an innocent old woman's execution?" Yang spat. "A woman that you've met personally and know isn't in any mental state to volunteer for that sort of thing."
"I'm not," Harriet answered with a shrug as she rested her crossed ankles atop the back of the bench in front of her. "I never have been, and I'm still not. It took me years to rationalize how he could sleep at night after deciding on something like that and roping Winter into it, but… I think I have a pretty decent answer, now. He didn't make the decision."
Yang's lip twitched in annoyance.
"…Fria isn't ab-"
"Not Fria," Harriet interrupted. "Salem."
Yang turned to the side to look at Harriet. All of the regret, frustration, and sadness in her chest had seemed to plateau, and Harriet's next words would either make those emotions bubble over and explode or begin to recede ever so slowly. Yang wasn't sure which outcome she preferred.
"…what?"
"General Ironwood doesn't have a choice, most of the time," Harriet began. "Fria doesn't have a choice other than to do what she's doing, I don't have a choice to do anything but follow orders in service of Solitas… and all of that stems from the choice that Salem made to go after the relics. She created a domino effect of 'choices' for us that aren't really choices at all. Any other path than the one we're on right now is negligent and borderline treason. This is on her. So take everything you're feeling right now about Operation Snowfall, and use that as motivation to keep pushing forward and see this through to the end. Pin it on Salem- not General Ironwood."
"…do you really believe that?" Yang asked. "Or are you just passing along the blame so you don't have to think for yourself?"
Harriet leaned forward slightly and clasped her hands between her knees as she brought her feet to the floor and ground her teeth together.
"…I have been thinking, Yang. It's not just passing the blame, and I'm not…" Harriet looked over at Yang, her face contorted into an expression of something between desperation and anger. "…look. I'm not the smartest on the team, nor am I the most in control of my emotions. That should be clear by now. I can't lead or be trusted with too much responsibility for my own good, and that of those around me, so… I have to follow. That's my role, and I've accepted it. If you think that's pathetic… I don't care. I might not know much, but I do know this- General Ironwood's heart is in the right place, and we're on the right side in this war. I might not be able to put how I know that into words, but… knowing it is good enough for me. It has to be. It's how I feel, and I trust my gut."
Yang slumped forward and held her head in her hands as she shook it gently from side to side. Her nails dug harshly into the skin, forming little dents hidden within her mass of hair. A single thought crept into her mind as her forehead began to pound with a sensation like that of a snake constricting her brain.
Bubble over it is.
And yet, just as Yang felt like she was ready to flip the entire bench in front of her, something unusual happened. Nearly everything roiling inside of her just stopped in a single, exhausting rush, leaving her with nothing more than a throbbing headache and lingering feeling of defeat.
"…I fucking hate math," Yang grumbled as she raised her head and zeroed in on the same equation once again. "Other people can look at this shit and just… get it immediately, while I just end up pissed off, confused, and feeling stupid that I can't see the solution even though I know I should be able to and everything I need is right in front of me. It's the one subject I was never good at, even back at Signal."
"Yeah," Harriet agreed. "Fuck math entirely."
Yang couldn't help but snort in amusement as Harriet laid a hand upon her shoulder and leaned in a bit closer.
"Listen, Yang, I don't have all- or most of the answers. I just… you can't look at everything we're doing and the stress we're causing ourselves and convince me that we're the 'bad guys' in this scenario. You just can't."
"But at what point does that change?" Yang asked, falling backward into the bench and letting her head loll back over the top of the seat as she stared up at the high ceiling. "When do we get to the point where we're doing more harm than good? Even if we're not 'the bad guys', how many people have to die from our decisions before we aren't 'the heroes' anymore?"
"…I don't know," Harriet admitted as she mirrored Yang's movements and leaned back. "But when the scales are currently at sacrificing one life versus trying to destroy all of Remnant? I'd say they tip in our favor. This is exactly the kind of thing I don't like thinking about… but I can't really blame you for going there, either."
Yang blinked in confusion as she studied every little imperfection in plaster above her.
"…is that what Salem wants? To destroy Remnant? I mean, do we actually have any idea what she's doing?"
"We don't," Harriet answered. "And if you ask me, that's… actually scarier than knowing exactly what we're up against. She has… had a Maiden in her employ, controls the grimm, destroyed Beacon Academy, and is hunting for relics. All of that doesn't add up to anything good, and someone willing and able to wipe out a major academy shouldn't ever get their hands on even more power. That's really all we know, at this point."
"That's all we know," Yang echoed. "Ironwood probably knows more, doesn't he?"
"If he does, should he even tell us?" Harriet asked as she turned her head to the side. "Look at what the news about Hope did to you, and now this. If we can't change it, does it even matter? He's trying to protect you. If you take a minute to think about his actions, he always has been, really."
Yang felt Harriet's knuckles rap against her mechanical arm. Even though she couldn't feel it directly, the memories that the echo dredged up were enough to make her shudder.
"You know… when Beacon was falling, Ironwood stopped us, all of us, when we were about to rush back into central Vale to try to defend against the grimm. He told us that there was no shame in running, and that no one would blame us for saving ourselves. Obviously, we didn't listen… but he did it again when we arrived in Atlas. When our crew gave him the lamp and you guys were watching Corsac, he offered to give us room and board at no cost, and the opportunity to just… live. Retire from being hunters and let him handle everything. He wants to hold up the entirety of Remnant on his shoulders."
"And we can't let him try," Harriet declared. "Otherwise, it falls. No one man can do that… but the man who would try to deserves our support, doesn't he?"
"…what if he's just trying to temporarily save us from the pain of what's coming because he doesn't know what to do, either?" Yang suggested. "What if he's stumbling in the dark just as much as we are?"
"…don't," Harriet warned as she sat up straight once again. "Don't put that thought out there. Even if it does end up being true… I can't deal with that notion, and I don't think anyone else could, either. We're the only hope Remnant has. We have to move forward with purpose, Yang. This is the job we chose, and I'm not going to let you poke holes in it. Shut up, before I shut you up."
Another period of silence passed. Yang was vaguely aware of a clock ticking away somewhere in the room, and over time, the throbbing in her forehead began to pulse along with the steady rhythm. Eventually, she closed her eyes, well aware that the back of the bench was beginning to make her neck hurt but lacking any motivation to sit up properly.
"… I know it probably doesn't mean shit and you don't need validation from someone nowhere near as experienced, but I don't think you're pathetic, Harriet."
"I don't think you are, either," Harriet clarified. "I think you're on the same road I was when Vine and I found Fria. You're just farther back along it than I am now. Keep moving forward with us. We might need you."
"You might need me?" Yang asked, finally pushing herself forward to sit up.
"…whatever," Harriet sneered with a wave of her hand. "You want advice and reassuring words? Talk to Marrow or Clover. This isn't my specialty at all, and you're lucky I bothered to come after you to begin with."
Yang chuckled and cracked her neck to one side.
"Gonna be totally honest, I was kinda hoping you would yell at me, demand I turn back, bark some orders, and end up starting a full-on fight instead of being reasonable and trying to talk me down…"
"Because you feel like beating the piss out of someone right about now?" Harriet guessed.
"Uh-huh."
"I get it," Harriet said with a shrug. "I've goaded Marrow and Elm into fights a time or two for that reason. We're really not so different…"
"No, we're not…" Yang confirmed as a heavy knock came at the door. She squinted to find two figures standing just beyond the embedded glass, one of which was waving enthusiastically. "Jaune and Corsac…?"
"Want me to let 'em in?" Harriet asked as she took out her scroll.
It didn't take long for Yang to arrive at an answer.
"…yeah. Might as well wallow with company."
The door clicked open, and the two men strode into the room in short order. Jaune broke into a jog immediately as Corsac walked slowly behind him, entirely unbothered while the younger man seemed to have worked himself into a panic. Jaune was sweating lightly by the time he reached the back row where Yang and Harriet sat, and he doubled over for a moment to catch his breath.
"Yang… we need to talk… you can't leave…"
"…Jaune," Yang deadpanned. "I'm fine. Or… getting there, anyway. I just needed a minute, and for Harriet to knock me upside the head a few times."
"Not literally," Harriet clarified. "Yet."
"…oh," Jaune replied as he straightened up and tried to look dignified. "Uh… good? Um…"
"…you're good, man," Yang reassured as she patted the spot on the bench next to her. "How'd you even find us?"
"Jaune asked around in the halls," Corsac explained calmly as he followed Jaune into the seats. "Most of the students likely think he's insane, now."
"Sorry," Jaune said sheepishly. "I just… I was worried about you."
"I'm worried about everyone," Yang replied. "I think we all are."
"Yeah, probably," Jaune agreed as he breathlessly sank into his seat. He smiled slightly as Yang leaned her head into his shoulder. "Things are getting… complicated."
"They always have been," Harriet reminded as she fiddled with her scroll. "You guys just weren't aware."
"And they will only become more complicated as time goes on," Corsac mused. "We need to keep our foundation strong. If that means taking some time to reflect, then so be it."
"Well said," Harriet praised as she stood up into an overhead stretch. "But I've done more than enough talking for the day. More like the week, really. I'm gonna head to the training room and punch shit, living or otherwise. Swing by if you want in."
"May I join you?" Corsac asked, only to stand up as he received a nod.
"I'll probably jump in in a bit," Yang considered. "For now, though, I just kinda wanna… exist."
"Then I'll see you when I see you," Harriet said as she and Corsac made their way down the steps. "Bring your A game."
Yang just watched the pair leave in silence, her mind full of conflicting thoughts once again. The muddled mixture of ideas and emotions was suddenly pierced by a rush of warmth and surprise as she felt a set of warm fingers come to rest atop her own.
"…hey," Jaune tried, looking nervous. "Are you really okay?"
Yang smiled softly as she looked up at Jaune's deep blue eyes, appreciating the level of concern she saw within them.
"…I will be," Yang said quietly as she lifted her head from his shoulder. "Thanks, Jaune. You're… something else."
"So I've heard," Jaune replied. "Still not sure what that something is, or whether it's a good thing."
"It's a good thing," Yang reassured as she sat up. "And… can you bring the hair back? It was kinda cute."
Jaune nervously reached up and ran a hand over his short locks, which had been slicked over to one side after weeks of teasing.
"…you think so?"
"Yeah," Yang reassured. "It just kinda… worked for me, even if I gave you some shit for it. The dorkiness was kinda hot."
For once, Jaune was ready for the touch of Yang's lips against his, and he returned the gesture with a confidence that had been entirely absent in their previous encounter. Though the contact was brief, Yang found it to be more reassuring than she would have imagined.
"…wanna just… hang out here and talk for a bit?" Jaune asked as he wrapped an arm around Yang's shoulders.
"Yeah," Yang agreed. "Yeah, let's do that."
Author's Note:
Next week- Ruby and Blake take center stage.
-RD