If anyone is wondering, the song Hawkins and Willow are singing is the Phantom of the Opera. If ya search it up on youtube there are plenty of examples to fill in the music sequences. Also, before anyone doubts Hawkins' ability to sing, if ya search up Basil Hawkins Unmei No Rasen on youtube, the magician's got pretty dope vocal cords.

Observing the crowd, their eyes were filled with anticipation and wonder as Willow slowly placed a hand on her breast and the other on the mic stand. With a deep breath, the elegant voice of a professional singer soothed the atmosphere with silky tones that could melt even a heart of stone.

"In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came~"
"That voice which calls to me and speaks my name~"
"And do I dream again? For now I find~"
"The Specter of the Opera is there~" "Inside my mind!~"

Admiration brimming among the spectators, one by one, they turned their gazes at a suited man who adorned a white mask. His golden hair reflecting the dim lighting, he remained a few feet beside Willow and raised an open palm toward her direction.

"You'd better know the lyrics to this song as you promised Bastion, or else I'm never going to listen to you again..." Hawkins mentally snarled.

"You have nothing to fear! For this is a Mantlesian specialty that has been passed down from my generation! Now, watch that diaphragm and let the music flow!" Bastion's symbol glowed brighter, threatening to reveal itself through the magician's dark clothing as he opened his mouth to sing.

"Sing once again with me, our strange duet!~"

"My power over you grows stronger yet!~"

"And though you turn with me to glance behind!~"

"The Specter of the opera is there!~"

"Inside your mind!~"

Jaws slacked and eyes widened at the magnificent voice that the mysterious singer produced. His low and dark tones contrasting the elegance of Willow perfectly, even Bastion was speechless for a time in utter shock.

Continuing the play, Willow cautiously approached the man in the darkness as he approached her. The two meeting at center stage, they remained within an arm's length of each other. The Schnee sang first.

"Those who have seen your face~"

"Draw back in fear~"

"I am the mask you wear~"

Hawkins stepped forward.

"It's me they hear..."

Their gazes locked, they nodded and sang in unison.

"Your spirit and your voice!~"
"In one combined!~"

"The Specter of the opera is there!~"

"Inside your mind!~"

A short showing of instrumental skill gripped the auditorium as Willow extended a hand toward Hawkins who took it a little too reluctantly. The Schnee tried to decipher anything about her mysterious partner in that brief window, but to her disappointment, the mask offered nothing more than a single crimson eye. Before she could think of anything else, the music section had come to an end and the lyrics were called for.

"In all your fantasies, you always knew!~"

"That man and mystery!~"

Willow took queue.

"Were both in you~"

Voices of light and darkness conjoined once more.

"And in this labyrinth, where night is blind!~"
"The Specter of the Opera is there~"

The magician grew silent as the noble took the reigns.

"...Inside your mind~"

Her piece done with, Hawkins raised his hand to gently caress Willow's visage. The action took her by surprise as the script didn't mention physical contact, but with her duty as a singer, she buried her worries and focused on the calloused palm that cupped her chin with a shocking gentleness.

"Sing, my angel of music!~" He bellowed.

Willow complied, elevating her voice to its maximum peak as the phantom demanded.

"Sing!~"

"Sing for me!~"

"Sing my angel of music!~"

"Sing for me!~"

Her throat strained and lungs depleted, the performance ended in a great eruption of fireworks that blew from canisters hitched to the front and sides of the stage. The Schnee found the white and golden sparks beautiful, but her partner didn't share the sentiment.

"ARGH!" Breaking face, Hawkins withdrew his hand from Willow's visage and staggered back. Arms raised, he shut his eyes and tried to deflect the bombardment of fireworks. Horrible memories fastened his heart rate as his vision began to blur.

Unfortunately, the fireworks continued, as once they were lit they cared not for who watched them.

Hawkins could feel his devil fruit powers beginning to manifest on instinct, he tried valiantly to keep his straw at bay, but soon it tore through his sleeves with aid of his blackened nails. His transformation was not the complete version of demon face, but he'd shown enough to earn sudden gasps and hitched breaths.

Willow blinked. Taking a few steps back, she raised a quivering hand toward her partner. Those below the stage couldn't see it, but the man didn't seem like he wanted to attack. From the way his posture slumped and his arms coiled, he seemed... scared?

"I-Is something the matter?"

The stranger said nothing, after a few ragged breaths, he sped to the darkness of the auditorium's backstage to the shock of everyone, but none more than Willow. A round of applause despite the awkward scene, Willow joined the band members and technicians for a joined bow making a mental note to investigate her troubled partner's whereabouts.

"Huff... Huf..."

Hawkins didn't know how far he'd ran and he didn't care. He couldn't risk going on a wild killing spree in a place filled with capable combatants, as while he could definitely kill a reasonable amount, their numbers would eventually overwhelm him.

"Hawkins! Are you alright?!" Bastion's voice finally reached the magician's ears as he poured more energy into his pale being.

The light the spirit bestowed felt odd, not quite mixing and actually gave Hawkins a rather intense migraine.

"That's enough, Bastion, thank you!"

Lifting his heavy lids, Hawkins threw his mask aside and allowed the chilling air of the night to bask his clammy visage. His blood simmering, he fumbled to stand and used a nearby trunk to support himself. Shaking his head, Hawkins realized he'd come close to the same secluded spot in the gardens where he'd conversed with Monet.

"Sniff~"

Hawkins checked his nose, not a dribble in sight, his ears perked in the direction of what he assumed to be muffled sobs. Carefully treading behind the tall, square shrubs that followed the brick pathway, the magician felt his eyes widen at a familiar dress designed to mirror Remnant's midnight. There, on the same bench Monet had sat upon, was Ms. Goodwitch. Tissue in hand, she lightly dabbed beneath her eyes to save the mascara she'd worked so hard to maintain.

Hawkins turned away, hoping to avoid another emotional spiel.

"You should comfort her. There's a high chance that it's your fault that she's crying." The magician's breath hitched. That voice... didn't belong to Bastion. It belonged... to him? Was Hawkins' conscience actually telling him to do something good?

He glanced at his temporary date once more. Her emerald pupils dimmed, her lips veered toward the ground, and the way she scrunched her nose in a desperate attempt to keep her emotions masked... Hawkins could relate better than anyone in this specific predicament.

Despite all odds, he pulled out his tarot cards. He shuffled conservatively, as not to alert his fellow blonde of his presence. Once he got his tarot reading, all became clear.

"87% chance this is my fault..." The magician groaned. He pocketed his cards and trailed around the shrubs until he was behind Ms. Goodwitch.

/-/

"They're nothing but idiots who wouldn't know what a profession was if it slapped them across the face!" Glynda hissed under her breath. She'd spent the entire time hunting down her date that she'd missed Willow's performance, but she didn't care.

As long as she was away from those drunken idiots who mocked her title as a huntress she was content. Or that's what she told herself.

"Oi, isn't that the legendary snooty witch?" Hiccuped a passing drunk. His gray suit wrinkled and tie nowhere to be found, he stared at the sulking woman with lecherous eyes and tossed his empty beer can into the bushes.

Despite his intoxicated state, the man was quite handsome. A chiseled jawline and tanned skin free of any blemish, he let out a burp and straightened his back.

"Excuse me, but I'm not in the mood to talk right now." Glynda glowered.

"I saw what those blokes were saying about you, and I gotta admit if you dropped that sassy attitude you'd probably have way more friends." He slurred, ignoring whatever quip the witch sent his way.

"Anyhow, I heard that you had a date for the reunion, but that was obviously a lie wasn't it? I mean come on, as the highest-ranking graduate of Beacon, I'd assume you'd have men drooling at the thought of attending any event with you." The man chuckled mercilessly.

"I-I..." Glynda bit her lower lip.

"Aw, don't worry, there's no need to cover up for yourself anymore. Plenty of people were gossiping about you and some scary-looking man mingling with each other, but from what I can see, he stood you up without a care in the world!"

"T-That's not..." Glynda's napkin crumpled under her grip.

"Or maybe the whole thing is just a fib to keep Ironwood away right? That proud Atlesian captain always has a stone face except when he's talking about you. Why he's mentioned your body plenty of times, and man, I can see why!

A scowl marring her delicate features, the huntress felt her aura simmer as a purple hue enveloped her hands.

"I mean, you look pretty and all, but my Oum can you be a bitch sometimes!" The drunkard chortled, his mocking tone reaching for the stars as the waterworks behind Glynda's eyelids had reached their limit.

"Sniff~"

Salty droplets mixing with decorative powder, streaks of eyeliner marred Glynda's complexion as the purple hue around her hands dissipated. The man who'd caused her grief shook his head jokingly, and offered her a hand saying that he'd serve as a better substitute to that fake menacing blonde she decided to bring.

However, a certain pirate begged to differ.

"H-Hey, what the hell are you doing?!" Cried the man. His head was encompassed by a gloved hand, its fingers bore into his skin, crushing the bone beneath.

Glynda's head snapped upward. Eyes wide at the scene, there was Hawkins, albeit differently dressed, standing firm with a yelping drunkard who begged to be released.

Sparing a glance at his temporary date, the magician whipped around and threw the idiotic drunkard all the way back to the auditorium's doors. The man's squealing voice could be heard by all before his face smacked a brick wall.

The annoyance dealt with, Hawkins turned back to Glynda who didn't seem all that pleased to see him.

A weary crimson staring straight at a pair of indignant green, before Glynda could open her mouth Hawkins uttered something she didn't account for.

"I'm sorry for being unfaithful and for my lack of presence." He said firmly and without his usual gloomy voice.

The with's lips twitched to a neutral line, but her frown returned as quickly as it left.

"Am I supposed to accept that apology? I've been looking for you for the past thirty minutes, getting laughed at all the while by other couples who used to look down on me!" She made no effort to hide her tears as the soaked napkin had exceeded its purpose.

Hawkins sighed, this wasn't going to be easy, was it?

"May I have a seat?"

The huntress glared daggers at him, but he decided to sit anyway. Though he positioned himself as close to the edge as possible to allow Glynda her space. Silence dangling over the duo like a guillotine, Hawkins took the blow and initiated the conversation.

"This has been a disappointing night hasn't it?"

Glynda scoffed. "Is that really your opening hand?"

"I figured we could get through this through a familiar perspective." Hawkins shrugged.

"Well my night has been horrible, thank you."

His eyes toward the sky, Hawkins took a deep breath and rubbed his palms together. He hated to admit it, but without Bastion around, he didn't really have anyone to rely on for an emotional dilemma such as this. Which beckoned the thought, why did Bastion fall silent all of a sudden? Peeking under his collar, Hawkins curled a brow as the Arc insignia was nowhere to be found.

"Is something wrong?" Glynda muttered.

"Yes, you're unhappy," Hawkins replied.

The witch shook her head at the magician's feeble attempt to make up, but she'd give him the benefit of the doubt and allow him to right himself.

"Well, go on, if you're going to apologize then I expect an explanation to come with it."

The stoic blonde coughed and shifted to meet Glynda's glare head-on. "It was never my intent to leave your side, but Monet's abrupt presence demanded my attendance. Like me, she also hails from a similar land, but the idea of other citizens of the grande line and four seas settling here astound me."

"I've taken a few Mistralian courses during my years as a student, and I've never heard of a place called the North Blue."

The former pirate visibly shuddered. "That's... because it's not a location you can find on Remnant."

"What?"

"I may be human, but my birth roots stem from a kingdom named Dolph. Tell me, have you ever seen anyone dress similar to me?" Hawkins said.

"I won't deny that your fashion is unique, but that doesn't mean your home isn't located on this earth. Besides, how else would you have found your way to Vale if you weren't a previous inhabitant?"

Hawkins chuckled weakly. "Your guess is as good as mine. I arrived here and am now the father of an innocent child, despite my history smearing such a trait from my being."

"You're a father?" Glynda's glasses dipped.

"With no history of parenting, I might add."

"You can't be serious..." The witch deadpanned.

"Whether you believe me or not doesn't matter. In the end, I still have a baby too goofy for his own good waiting for me at home."

Glynda clasped her hands on her lap and turned away. "Well, I wish you the best of luck, a man like you needs it."

"Luck has never taken a liking to me, if it weren't for my cards, I wouldn't have survived the daunting perils of the grande-line and north seas."

"Were you a sailor of some kind?" The witch scooted a tad closer.

The magician leaned forward, his knees resting on his thighs, he covered his face with an open palm and drew a deep breath.

"I was the captain of a loyal crew. We journeyed throughout the North Blue wherever my cards guided us, and we always got through challenges with minimal casualties... Until we reached the half-point of our travels."

"Captain, please we have to flee, a navy admiral is not something you should overlook!" Cried a cloaked crewmate.

"Not to worry, for I do not see the shadow of death upon me today..." His captain stated.

"I should have done a reading for all of them," he said solemnly, "while my initial readings for myself held true, the fates of my subordinates remained ominous. If only I'd have more time to see how close death's door really was..."

"H-Hawkins, are you alright?" Glynda stuttered.

A single tear strolling down his pale cheek, the former pirate flinched as a soggy napkin wiped it away.

"The gesture is appreciated but not necessary-" Hawkins bit his tongue. "When did your dress get torn?"

True to his word, an ugly split from the hem to the knee marred Glynda's attire. She shied away, trying to cover the seamed blemish, but Hawkins was surprisingly adamant on the subject. He did, after all, choose and buy the dress for his temporary date.

"I've been honest with you, so it's only natural that you offer the same courtesy." The stoic man grunted.

"I... got into a scuffle while searching for you. A few of my former colleagues from Atlas decided it'd be a good idea to pull a prank on me. Unfortunately for them, I possess a semblance that can manipulate inanimate objects." A rare smirk crossing her features, Glynda covered her giggles with an open palm.

"I'm sorry for not being there," Hawkins said flatly.

This sent the trained huntress for a loop. "And why are you bringing this up again?"

"Because my whole purpose here was to serve as a detestable wall to deter the advancement of potential bullies and lecherous men. Which I, for the most part, failed."

"I'll consider your apology as... acceptable, but you'd better not take my gratitude for granted," Glynda warned.

"On another note, why did you say that your semblance only affects inanimate objects? You managed to slow me down at the park, isn't that right?" Hawkins asked.

"That's not wholly true. My semblance, telekinesis, allows me to manipulate the objects around me as I see fit. So I wasn't necessarily manipulating you, rather your clothes and weapon."

"I see." Hawkins hummed.

"Which brings me to ask, Summer described your ability to one that manipulates straw. But is that all it can do? Or are your card reading talents linked to it?"

"I ate-" Another bite on the tongue before a swift correction. "The straw I produce, to a certain degree, is linked to the life force of my person. While I can achieve great transformations, I am not invulnerable and will receive damage like any other human."

The crinkling sound of straw emanating from his forearm, a lanky limb of straw, and black iron nails were created in place of his flesh and bone.

Glynda tilted her head, "I've never witnessed a semblance change the actual structure of a person, I must say I am shocked."

"You'll be even more surprised to find that I can do this without the need of a semblance."

Glynda blinked rapidly. "You're kidding."

"A perceptive woman like you would've found me out eventually, so I might as well state the obvious while I have the chance to prevent confusion." Hawkins shrugged.

"Klick, Klick"

The magician tilted his sights to see that his date had removed her high-heels.

"Oh don't give me that look. You're lucky that you can make do with padded boots, but designer heels like these lose their comfort after a few hours."

Hawkins smirked and merely shook his head. "I appreciate people who mind their appearance, but the extent that some try to reach I find to be rather ludicrous."

"Present company excluded, right?" The witch shot the magician a threatening glare.

"I'm well aware, your partner did inform me that you spent the entire morning and afternoon preparing your makeup."

A light dusting of pink seeping into her cheeks, Glynda denied her date's claims with a snooty huff. Flexing her nylon-covered toes, she leaned down to rub her aching soles while biting her lower lip.

"Does it hurt that much?" Her blonde cohort deadpanned.

"You can't relate can you?" She hissed back.

"No, I suppose not," he chuckled mockingly.

The once dreadful tension easing away, the magician and witch found themselves in a playful battle of witts as they traded snarky remarks and jovial quips not minding their separation from Beacon's reunion as they found their shared isolation bearable and dare I say... pleasant?

"By the way, I've been meaning to ask, did you kiss my partner?"

A bead of sweat trickled down Hawkins' forehead. "No..."

"Really?"

"Yes!" The pirate said a tad too hastily.

"It's not smart to ruin the night with a lie, Hawkins." Her words bore an edge of punishable death as her left eye twitched.

"I'm not lying!" He protested.

With the magician stuck in the endless storm of falshoods as he returned to his rightful post as a temporary date; not too far away, the knees of another blonde were buckling atop the academy's roof plateau. Fixing his tie for what had to be the hundredth time, Tai Xiao Long forced a thick lump down his throat as he cradled a humble engagement ring between his palms.

"Tai? Are you there? Qrow said you were looking for me." Called a bob of red-tinted locks and silver eyes as she opened the door to the plateau.

"S-Summer!" Tai jolted and shoved the ring down his pocket.

"U-Um, is this a bad time?" His leader pursed her lips.

"N-No, you see the thing is... Oh man, there goes a week's worth of work of rehearsing..."

*Grad Reunion Arc. Part 3. End.*