Weiss had a growing list of luxuries she'd taken for granted. Surprisingly high on that list was the availability of a quality heated towel in the bathroom. She preferred her showers on the colder side, just below lukewarm. To be able to step out and dry her skin with a warm, soft towel was a simple luxury, but one of great pleasure. Unfortunately, her cotton ones had been lost at the airport when she moved away from Atlas. Worse still, her landlord refused to fix the bathroom radiator.

As Weiss stepped in front of the mirror, wrapped in a cheap, unheated towel, her sour mood did not improve. The wound that ran from above her left eye down to her cheek was healing, the stitches gone, but it still looked nasty. There'd be a permanent scar there—the doctors hadn't bothered to sugarcoat that fact. Forever on her skin, a reminder of how far her family has fallen.

She ran her fingers through her wet hair, savoring it. That was the one thing she'd always taken pride in, the thing that made her special regardless of her family's wealth and status. Stunning, naturally snow-white hair. Now even that was being taken away from her.

She picked up one of the two identical boxes she'd left on the sink. On the cover was a woman with long, impossibly shiny black locks. "Schwarz" was written at the bottom in large, bold text. Weiss's eyes glanced to the trashcan where she so wanted to dump both boxes. Instead, she flipped the one in her hand over and began to read the instructions. In just a manner of hours, there'd officially no longer be any Schnees in Vale.


Weiss sat at her desk with her newly darkened hair still damp, staring down at a notebook. There were several pages in it dedicated to different types of Grimm and which mental illnesses they were the manifestations of, the most recent detailing the Nuckelavee and PTSD. But the pages she spent the most time poring over contained her theories and attempts to connect patterns between phenomena she'd experienced inside mental landscapes. Until Jaune Arc, she'd thought she had it all mostly figured out, was getting close to claiming mastery over her semblance. But now everything was back up in the air again.

Semblances are poorly understood and always unpredictable. Weiss knew that. But she'd thought that since her mother had the same semblance, she could expect hers to stay consistent. But it had to go and prove her wrong. Apparently, now she could randomly appear in Forever Fall instead of the Emerald Forest. She didn't know what to make of that. There had to be some kind of factor that caused it. But other than the window, she couldn't find any differences that stood out between Jaune Arc's case and those of her previous clients.

The window—Weiss didn't even want to explore that yet. Part of her didn't want to acknowledge that it had happened at all. Of all the abilities her semblance could develop, it just had to be one that would repel all future clients. Was it too much to ask to be able to pay her bills and help people at the same time?

The microwave beeped. Weiss closed her notebook and shoved it into a drawer, where it'd likely stay for a while. It wasn't like she was making any progress without further data, which she couldn't get while in recovery.

She collected her food from the microwave and began sadly dishing it out onto a proper plate setting—it was about as close as she could get to fine dining these days. Back home, she'd been able to expect three chef-cooked meals a day, with dessert as an option. Dinner always came with a glass of wine, though she'd usually only take a sip or two. Living on her own, she had frozen mush and water.

Admittedly, "mush" was a tad unfair. There was no other word to describe the mashed potatoes, sure, but the peas and meat were alright. If Weiss was being honest, she didn't outright hate processed foods, despite having avoided them like the plague for most of her life. They were quick and easy to prepare, and they tasted fine. But every bite was a reminder of the lifestyle that had been ripped away from her. She'd much rather be back at Schnee Manor, sharing a quality meal with company, despite who said company was.

Weiss stared down at her mediocre food, mindlessly poking at it with her fork while recalling the last meal she'd shared with her family. It'd been a year ago, just a few months before her father had been exposed for years of corporate fraud. She'd been home for the summer and it was just herself, Whitley, and their father at the table, as normal. They'd held a conversation about nothing in between long stretches of silence. Whitley behaved as coldly as ever and their father made several remarks about her decision to drop out of business school four years prior. It was exactly the same as every other meal she'd attended while staying at home, three times a day, every day.

A week after that, when she was eating alone in her dorm, she found herself confusingly missing those family sit-downs, even with the absence of her mother and sister. Just like now, when she rarely ever dined with company. Because despite the dysfunction of it all and the fact that it was the man who'd destroyed her grandfather's legacy at the table with her, Weiss somehow preferred it to being alone.


Weiss was starting to think her luck was turning around. A motorcycle vacated a parking space just as she was pulling up to her destination, so she happily took it. She stepped out of her car, a used model in decent condition, and locked the doors. The entrance to the building she'd come here for was barely ten feet to her right. Inside she found an elevator, which was extra fortunate because her client lived on an upper floor.

After ringing the bell, Weiss hardly had to wait for the apartment door to open. The occupant was a girl with short, black hair highlighted with streaks of red, as well as a pair of dazzling silver eyes. Her appearance did not lend credence to the fact that she was only two years younger than Weiss.

"Wow," said the girl.

Weiss raised an eyebrow. "Wow?"

"Oh! Sorry. You just . . . look a lot different than I expected. You're the psycho . . . thingy? I'm Ruby." She extended her hand.

Weiss shook it. "Psychotherapist. My name is Weiss."

"Nice to meet you. Come in!" Ruby smiled and turned back into the apartment. "Uh, you can have a seat on the couch."

Weiss followed her in and closed the door. She took a look around the apartment—it was a huge step up from Jaune Arc's. Not only was it far cleaner and more organized, but it was also a lot bigger and classier. There was no way someone Ruby's age could afford it on their own.

Weiss sat down while Ruby continued into the kitchen. The TV had been left on. The screen was taken up by a pause menu for some kind of video game, and a lit-up controller was sitting on the coffee table next to some scattered comic books.

"What do you want to drink?" Ruby called. "Juice, tea, coffee?"

"I'll take some coffee, thank you. Black."

"I don't know how you can drink it like that," Ruby commented a minute later as she handed Weiss her mug and sat down in a lounge chair.

Weiss took a cautious sip. It was warm, but not hot. "I just have more refined tastes."

Ruby shrugged as she dropped five sugar cubes into her own mug, which looked to have already been diluted by cream. Weiss watched her take a drink, slightly repulsed. She was so distracted by this that it took her a few moments to notice how alert Ruby seemed for someone suffering from insomnia. Her cheeks weren't sunken, her eyes bore no bags, and her voice betrayed no hints of exhaustion. She looked perfectly normal—energetic, even.

Concluding that she'd just caught Ruby on a good day, Weiss decided not to bring it up. "So . . . Was it my eye?"

"Hm?" said Ruby.

"You said I wasn't what you were expecting. Was it my eye?"

"Er, no. Actually, that was the least surprising part."

Weiss frowned. "How so?"

"Well, you fiddle with people's minds! I thought you'd be like a . . . you know, a witch doctor or something."

Weiss stared. "A witch doctor."

"Yeah. So I was surprised to see you're so young and . . . elegant."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you. I carry myself with pride and dignity."

Ruby snickered.

"What?" Weiss said defensively.

"Sorry. I just didn't think people actually talked like that."

"Like what?"

Ruby sat up straighter and stuck out the pinky holding her mug. Then she said in an overly posh accent, "Oh, I'm her royal highness, Weiss the psychotherapist. I carry myself with pride and dignity."

"Hey!"

Ruby snickered again.

Weiss scowled. "If you're done mocking me, then perhaps we can get started."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I couldn't help myself. So, uh . . . how does this work?"

"First, I'm required to show you this." Weiss placed her mug on a coaster and dug into her bag. She pulled out her card and showed it to Ruby, but held it in a way that her finger covered her last name.

Ruby spent a few seconds reading it, then said, "Okay."

"Insomnia doesn't typically require this kind of treatment," said Weiss, her card stowed away and a pad in hand. "If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you some questions to better understand what it is you're suffering from."

"Ask away."

"Have you been professionally diagnosed?"

"Well, not really. I can't sleep. I don't need a doctor to tell me that."

Weiss wrote it down. "How long has this been going on?"

"A while."

"That doesn't help. Can you give me a timeframe?"

Ruby scratched her head shiftily. "No. I don't know. It's just been a long time, you know?"

Weiss sighed. "Have you tried sleeping medication, sedatives?"

"Yeah. They don't work on me."

"What about changing your sleeping habits? Or behavioral therapy?"

"Nothing works."

"Do you have any other illness that could be causing you to have problems sleeping?"

She shook her head.

"How many nights a week do you have troubles sleeping?"

"Seven."

Weiss paused. "Can you be more descriptive with the symptoms you're experiencing?"

"I can't sleep," Ruby said simply.

Weiss waited, but the silver-eyed girl said nothing more. "I said be descriptive."

"I can't sleep. I don't know what else you want me to say. I just can't sleep."

Weiss stared at what she had written down, her tongue between her teeth and foot tapping against the floor. She was silent so long that Ruby had to speak up.

"Er, is there anything else you need to ask?"

"No," Weiss answered distractedly. It was several more seconds before she spoke again. "This is definitely unusual."

"But you can fix it, though . . . right?"

"I won't guarantee anything, but I think I should be able to. My best guess is that you have a unique, much more severe form of insomnia. I've not heard of a case that completely resists all forms of treatment."

Ruby didn't appear fazed by this. "But can you fix it?"

"I'll try. I'll need you to be closer, though."

Without hesitation, Ruby hopped off her chair and proceeded to plop herself down next to her.

Weiss blinked. "Um, right. Are you ready?"

"Yep. Have at me, doc."

"I'm not a doctor."

"Wait, really?"

"I have a master's in psychology. I didn't need a doctorate for the CAB to license me to sell my semblance."

"Oh."

"Now, are you ready?" Weiss repeated impatiently.

"Mhm!"

Weiss touched her face, inhaled a flowery scent, and slipped into another world.


It was the same as before. She now stood outdoors surrounded by trees, everything having an almost cartoonish appearance to it. The difference was the colors. The sky was now a bright blue, and just about everything else was green, from the grassy earth to the luscious leaves. She was back in the Emerald Forest.

Weiss smiled as she drew her rapier, allowing herself to hope for a return to normalcy. It was possible that seeing Jaune's memory had just been a fluke, caused by the fragile emotional state he was in. Perhaps she wouldn't have to waste the CAB's time after all.

She took a minute to observe her surroundings, searching for whatever Grimm Ruby's insomnia would manifest as. When nothing attacked, she took a few tentative steps forward and then tried to determine which way was north. Unfortunately, upon studying the shadow of a tree, she discovered that the sun wasn't moving. Weiss convinced herself that that didn't mean anything and chose a random direction to walk in.

Her feet carried her far. She tried to keep focused, but the longer she walked without seeing or hearing any kind of disturbance, the more her mind began to wander. She went over all the Grimm she'd encountered so far, what their corresponding ailment was, and which ones she had yet to see. A Nevermore seemed fitting. She glanced at the sky but saw nothing. She strained her ears for a piercing caw, but she heard only the rustling of leaves in the wind. And a voice.

Weiss stopped, but didn't dare move her head. A few short words, too faint to even make out. She'd imagined it, surely. That thing with Jaune had been a fluke—she'd just established that. There's no way it could be—

"Yang got the promotion yesterday." It was unmistakably Ruby's voice.

Weiss's heart dropped into her stomach. She looked to her right and saw proof that she'd been deluding herself. There, hovering ten feet away, was a window just like before. Weiss, her curiosity getting the better of her, approached.

"She and Blake both passed the exam, just like you did. I know you'd be really proud of her."

Through the glass, Weiss saw a grave. Leaning against it was a photograph of a woman who looked a lot like Ruby, but older and more mature. According to the inscription, her name was Summer Rose, and she died two years ago. The window went dark for a moment as Ruby brought her hand up to wipe tears from her eyes, accompanied by a sniffling sound.

Abruptly, Weiss turned heel and marched away. Her knuckles were white from gripping her sword so tightly.

"Where are you?" she shouted into the sky, for all the good it did. The forest was as still and silent as ever.

Weiss pressed forward, hunting for her adversary. The next time a memory cropped up, she ignored it. It wasn't her place to go snooping around in here. She shouldn't have seen the first one.

What felt like hours passed, and still she saw no Grimm. Weiss passed four windows in total, four aggravating squares that seemed determined to show her the private memories she had no right to see. By the time she stumbled onto the ruined palace, to say she was annoyed would be an understatement.

She flicked her rapier through the air, and it passed cleanly through a crumbling pillar, shearing off a sizeable chunk of it. She sat down amidst the rubble and began to count down from a hundred in her head, taking deep, steady breaths. It'd never taken her this long to hunt down an affliction before. If she reached zero and still hadn't been attacked, she'd have to accept that Ruby simply didn't have one.

By the time she'd finished counting, her irritation had mostly alleviated. She took one last deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was back in the apartment, her fingers still on Ruby's forehead. Weiss lowered her hand and scooted away from her, but Ruby still looked to be waiting in anticipation.

"There's nothing I can do for you," Weiss lamented.

Ruby looked confused. "What? I thought you said you would try."

"I just did."

"But . . . nothing happened."

"That's what I'm saying. You don't have any mental illnesses; therefore, there's nothing for me to cure."

"What? No. You made a mistake or something. You only touched my head for like a second. You must have—"

"Don't dare to presume how my semblance works," Weiss warned. "I'm telling you, your troubles sleeping aren't caused by a mental disorder. I can't help you, and that's all there is to it."

"Please! You have to try again." The desperation was plain in her voice. "You're the only one who can help me!"

"See a doctor. The only other cause I could think of would be a physical abnormality on the brain itself."

"It's not that."

Weiss frowned. "Have you had a scan done?"

"No. But . . ." Ruby was wringing her hands together, then suddenly threw them up in exasperation. "I don't care what CAB says! It has to be curable!"

"Cab?" Weiss took a moment to comprehend what she'd said, then her eyes narrowed. "The CAB?"

A look of horror dawned on Ruby's face.

"You're a paragon?" said Weiss.

"No! CAB thinks I am, but they're wrong. I know they are. There has to be some way I can sleep!"

The pieces clicked together inside Weiss's mind. Ruby's dodgy answers, her immunity to sleep medication, and her lack of visible symptoms—they were all starting to make sense.

"Ruby," Weiss said, having to actively keep her voice steady. "When you say you 'can't sleep', what exactly do you mean by that?"

Ruby bowed her head. "I've never been able to sleep. I've been awake my whole life. I thought that you—your semblance—would be able to finally help me."

Weiss shot to her feet. "Why didn't you tell me you're a paragon? I can't cure a semblance, Ruby!"

"Because I'm not! I refuse to believe it's a semblance."

"It is! You just said it. The Civil Anomaly Bureau doesn't make mistakes. If they say you're a paragon, then you're a paragon. Remember that the next time you decide to waste someone's time!" Weiss collected her things and stormed toward the exit.

"Wait! No, I can still—"

Weiss slammed the door, cutting her short, and made for the elevator. That was two failed contracts in a row. She had more appointments built up from her ten-day hiatus, so losing one didn't hurt as much, but she was still angry. She really needed to reconsider charging in advance if this was to become a pattern.

Weiss exited the building and found her car right where she'd left it. She'd already closed the door and put the key in the ignition when she noticed something. A small piece of paper had been slipped under her windshield wiper. Slowly, she looked toward the curb and saw a sign she hadn't noticed upon arrival.

Reserved Parking Only

Weiss allowed herself one, very undignified scream of pent-up frustration.


A/N: Credit to my beta readers: I Write Big, 0neWhoWanders, and Bardothren. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.