"Ah, Johnny boy."

Jaune recognized the voice instantly, and it was still too late. Before he could react, he was trapped in a corner of the locker room, the greater bulk of Cardin Winchester blocking out almost his whole vision. "Hi, Cardin," he said.

"You didn't exactly cover yourself in glory in sparring class today, did you?" said Cardin. The expression on his face was too sinister to call a smile. "Got yourself slapped around the arena a bit. I bet that smarts."

Think tactically, Jaune reminded himself. Those leadership classes had to be useful somehow!

Unfortunately, the tactical situation wasn't looking good. Half the boys in their class hadn't had to spar that day, and so hadn't even come into the locker room. Of the boys present, most were preoccupied cleaning up or awkwardly averting their eyes as modesty demanded. Worse, fully half the boys in the room were members of Team CRDL.

Tactically speaking, Jaune was hosed.

He should have seen this coming. Cardin was a jerk in general, but he was especially a jerk to anyone he thought he had an edge over, and he had all sorts of edges over Jaune. Cardin had been pushing his boundaries for weeks now. Bumps in the hallway, slaps against his tray in the cafeteria, petty indignities that Jaune had tried to ignore had piled up and piled up. This was just the logical endpoint.

"You know," Cardin said with a mocking veneer of friendship, "it's no secret you're the worst fighter in the school. It'd be dangerous for you to wander around campus on your own."

There—Ren had noticed. He was looking past Cardin to Jaune, looking for direction. As much of a void as Ren seemed most of the time, Cardin hadn't noticed him.

Jaune appreciated the backup… for a moment. Unfortunately, the rest of Team CRDL was still in the locker room, and while Jaune liked Ren over any one of them, asking Ren to 1-v-3 Russel, Dove, and Sky was too much.

Wait. There was a person who could beat those odds. If Jaune could just remember the right signal…

Keeping his hand at his waist for stealth, Jaune made two handsigns at Ren. Ren gave a slight nod of acknowledgment and went to exit the locker room.

"Eyes up here, Jaune," said Cardin, leaning even further into Jaune's personal space. Jaune, almost against his will, looked up at his tormentor. "That's better. Like I said, it could get awfully dangerous for a pathetic wimp like you out there. Good thing I'm the generous type."

"That word isn't on the list I was keeping for you," said Jaune.

"Well, you'd better add it, because I'm prepared to offer you a deal."

"Lucky me," said Jaune.

"That's the spirit," said Cardin. "It's pretty simple. You agree to be my friend, and I'll protect you from all the nastiness that mean people could do to you."

The locker room was nearly empty now. The other members of Team CRDL were the only ones still around, and they were clearly loitering, standing by in case their leader called them in. Or, more likely, to be eyewitnesses who'd deny everything if something bad happened to Jaune.

"Just like that?" said Jaune.

"Just like that," said Cardin. "You wouldn't have to worry about people stuffing you into lockers and sending you flying, or people knocking you down the stairs, or people taking your backpack and throwing it in the fountain, or people…"

"…beating me up in the locker room?" Jaune said.

"Now you're getting it."

Where was Ren? Jaune thought fast, trying to buy more time. "And you'd protect me from all that just because I'm your friend?"

"Sure I would," said Cardin. "That's what friends do. Friends help each other. So I'll protect you from all the mean people who'd take advantage of how pitiful you are, and you'll do me a favor from time to time when I need it."

Jaune swallowed. "What kind of favor?"

Cardin's smile seemed to taint all other smiles by association. "Oh, I'm sure we'll find ways you can help me out."

The locker room door opened not enough to make a sound, and a hand stuck through in a thumbs-up sign. Not Ren's hand, either.

Jaune relaxed. "You know," he said, looking at Cardin again, "I'm not sure you're the sort of person I want to be friends with."

Cardin leered. "That's too bad, Jaune. It'd be a shame if, say… you stumbled getting out of the shower and got a black eye. It's so slippery in here, after all."

"That's why I've got flip flops," Jaune said, lifting a foot. "But I think I get the idea."

"So?" said Cardin expectantly.

Jaune took a deep breath and tried to steady his nerves. "So… Pyrrha is right outside the door, waiting for me. If you hit me, I'll scream, and she'll come charging in."

"You're terrible at bluffing," said Cardin.

"I honestly don't know how to bluff," said Jaune. "I sent Ren to get her earlier. She's waiting for a signal. If you rough me up, she'll get it."

"You really think Pyrrha's gonna ride to your rescue?" Cardin scoffed.

"Do you really think your team will get between you and her?" said Jaune. "They've all seen her fight. They're not stupid. They know what would happen if they tried. So? You feel like fighting Pyrrha alone?"

"I don't think she's out there," said Cardin.

"If you're willing to roll those dice," said Jaune, "then it's your funeral."

Cardin laughed. "So your big, bold plan is just to hide behind Pyrrha's skirt. Ha, and you call yourself a man!"

"Says the guy who needs three teammates around while he's picking on someone weaker than him," Jaune said coolly.

Cardin shoved Jaune back into the wall. "It only takes one of me to—"

"Pyrrha," said Jaune.

Cardin moved no more. There was hostile silence for a moment; Jaune thought he could see gears turning in Cardin's head.

Cardin sneered down at Jaune. "What a pathetic excuse for a Huntsman. You can't even fight your own battles."

"Well, as a friend of mine taught me, people wanting to help you isn't a bad thing," said Jaune. "And I have plenty of people who want to help me. I don't have to threaten my way to "friendship"."

Jaune set himself and looked Cardin in the eye. "I'm not a better fighter than you. But I am a better person."

Cardin blinked for a moment, like Jaune had spoken a foreign language, before bursting into laughter. The rest of Team CRDL added hollow imitations of their leader. "Listen to this guy," said Cardin at large. "I'm here asking to make friends, and he rejects me by saying what a 'better person' he is. C'mon, Johnny boy, lighten up a little."

Jaune couldn't think of a single thing to say.

Cardin watched him for a moment longer, then smirked. "I can tell when I'm not wanted. Real shame, though. If you care about people helping you, I'd think you'd want as many friends as possible."

"Not friends like you," said Jaune.

"Oof," said Cardin, putting a hand over his chest, "right in the heart. Alright, Jaune, we'll let you be for now."

His team headed for the exit. Jaune dared to hope he'd survived.

"Oh… one more thing," Cardin said over his shoulder.

Hope was stupid. "Yeah?" said Jaune.

Cardin's eyes glittered maliciously. "You'd better make sure Pyrrha's always around to protect you. It'd be a shame if you ever got into trouble while she was outside of hearing range, and all you had to rely on was yourself."

"You're not wrong," said Jaune. "Guess I'll have to be careful, huh?"

Cardin snorted at him and left.

Jaune's head lolled back against the wall for a moment. His heart was racing like he was ten minutes into one of Nora's exercise routines; his brain felt like mush.

But he'd survived with his body and honor both intact. That was something.

He gingerly finished getting dressed and packing up. When he emerged, the rest of his team was waiting for him.

"Sooo?" said Pyrrha.

"I'm okay for now," said Jaune. "Thanks for being there for me, guys."

Pyrrha smiled, and for the first time coming from her it took on a terrifying aspect. "I really will break his legs, you know."

"I know. I appreciate the thought, really I do, but that's too much trouble to get into for a guy like him." Jaune looked at Ren. "Nice job getting backup."

Ren gave a nod so small it might have been a trick of the light. "By the way, the hand signal for "get" or "bring" is more like this."

"That's what I did!" said Jaune.

"I promise you it's not."

"But you still interpreted it right, so I guess I was clear enough," sputtered Jaune.

"I had a lot of context."

Jaune sighed. "Yes, Ren, I'll practice more."

The corners of Ren's mouth curled the slightest bit.

"What now, oh fearless leader?" said Nora.

"Yeah, definitely not 'fearless'," said Jaune. "In fact, the first thing I need to do is go back to the dorm and get some fresh, clean pants. After that, though…"

He looked at Pyrrha. "You're not always going to be around to fight for me, and it's not fair to put that burden on you in the first place. I need to be able to take care of myself so that I'm not dragging you all down. Frankly, I don't think I can learn fast enough on my own. Pyrrha, I know it's asking a lot of you, but do you think you could help me out? Give me some extra training so I can get my act together?"

Pyrrha beamed at him. "I'd be delighted to."

"Thanks," Jaune said, and there was a moment of warmth between them… that ended when Nora snickered. "Nora, Ren, I need your help, too," he said, trying to recover. "You're some of the best in our year at Dust and Aura, and I'm way behind on both. You think you two can help me catch up?"

"We'll whip you into shape, buster!" said Nora, punching her palm.

"You can count on us," said Ren.

"Thanks," Jaune said. "You really are good friends. Alright! Time to kick off Operation Make Jaune Not Suck!"

He turned and marched off in the direction of their dorm. As Pyrrha's gaze lingered on him, Nora leaned in close to her and whispered, "I bet you wish he would."

Pyrrha blushed scarlet.

"Professor Oobleck…"

"Doctor," corrected Penny.

"…talked about the Battle of Fort Castle in class," said an undistracted Blake. "He described it as a turning point in the Faunus Rights Revolution. But what makes it a turning point?"

"When your army takes that rough of a beating, it's kinda hard to keep fighting," Yang drawled.

"That can't be the answer," said Weiss. "Atlas stepped up its recruiting afterwards, and the next year fielded an army just as big as the year before."

"Atlas' force generation was and remains robust," said Penny.

The team was together in the library for a group study session on history. While normally the team studied in pairs, Blake was far and away the most knowledgeable on the team on this subject, so she'd used her authority as team leader to make it a group study session.

Penny approved. She had discovered early on that her classmates all had some baseline historical knowledge that she lacked. Even those who hadn't studied the subject academically, like Ren and Nora, had picked up on certain events and names and dates just through exposure, through background accumulation while they grew up.

Penny, not having had a childhood, was far behind in base knowledge. Memorizing names and dates was trivial for her, but to her surprise that wasn't enough to do well in Doctor Oobleck's class. He demanded that they be able to make connections and inferences and see things in cause-and-effect terms. It was fascinating and much less intuitive, and Penny discovered that she was not the best at it.

Which, strangely, made her happy. It was refreshing for there to be a class where she had to think differently, where she had to work to learn, where she wasn't in the top two just by existing.

She wondered if Pyrrha felt that way, sometimes. Even as scared as Pyrrha had made her in their duel the day before, she still respected her classmate.

So she enjoyed the class and the subject matter both. In general, at least. Something about this topic was stirring up something unknown and unsettling within her.

"War isn't just about how many soldiers you can field," Blake said. "That's just the material dimension. War has a moral dimension, as well."

"Like if you're fighting some grimm," said Yang, "and you take a hit, you lose Aura, and that's bad, but if it makes you scared then you start drawing in more grimm, and that's worse."

"Exactly," said Blake. Her eyes were wider than usual, Penny thought, and her voice two to three decibels louder. History, and the history of the Faunus in particular, seemed to bring out more of Blake's energy and enthusiasm than any other subject. Penny wondered if that was true of all Faunus.

Threat groups make extensive use of historical examples and arguments to justify violence. Increase resources to Tactical to monitor.

Penny started. What subroutine had generated that alert? It hadn't come from higher consciousness, and a query across all subroutines produced negative results… which was impossible. Nothing came from nothing. So where…?

"The General's defeat and capture didn't just cost Atlas a field commander and the better part of an army," said Blake. "Remember, General Legume wasn't just a general. He was a leading figure in Atlas politics, especially among the people pushing a hard line against the Faunus in the first place. He'd been on the Council in the past, and used his political sway to get himself appointed to lead the expedition, hoping that success would make him popular enough to get on the Council again."

"Political generals," Weiss muttered venomously.

"If he made a whole big deal about being anti-Faunus," said Yang, "you'd think he'd know more about them. We're anti-Grimm and we study them until our eyeballs bleed."

"That would be logical," Penny said with a frown.

"Hate isn't logical," said Blake. "It doesn't take any understanding to hate. In most cases, it's easier to hate if you don't understand."

"That sounds like the voice of experience," said Yang softly.

Blake's eyes shut, and Penny took that as confirmation of Yang's words. "I'm sorry for you," Penny said. "Should we stop?"

"No," said Blake, "this is exactly why we should keep going. Okay. So, because the general was so well known and was so prominent in the anti-Faunus movement, his capture was a huge hit to the movement's credibility… and the credibility of the Council. It made it seem like the Council itself didn't know what it was doing. If a member of the Council was so wrong about these policies, what other policies was the Council wrong about?

"You're right that Atlas was able to field another army the next year," Blake went on, "but they had to introduce conscription to do it. You can guess how popular that was."

Penny considered the prospect of being forced into a fight she didn't believe in. "Not very," she hazarded.

"Not very at all," said Blake. "The army Atlas fielded the next year had as many soldiers as before, but those soldiers tried half as hard. They marched slower, had to fight off twice as many grimm, and broke the moment an engagement turned against them."

"They didn't wanna be there, so they sucked as soldiers," Yang said thoughtfully. "Kinda like how Huntresses are all volunteers. You couldn't conscript a Huntress if you tried."

"Right," said Blake. "You could conscript someone and unlock their Aura, but that person wouldn't have much command of their Aura, and they'd never unlock their semblance. So Atlas' campaign in the fourth year failed, and after that, political support for the war all but collapsed."

"Allowing other threat groups to metastasize."

The members of Team BXPS swiveled their heads to look at Penny. Penny didn't understand why, and she especially didn't understand their expressions.

"Excuse me?" said Blake indignantly. "'Other threat groups'?"

Wait… had Penny said that?

A top-priority query went to Vocal. Yes, the controller for her voice reported. Its logs showed she'd said those words. But why? Vocal belonged to higher consciousness, no subroutine had interrupt control over it, and higher consciousness hadn't ordered those words. This had happened before and Penny had thought nothing of it, because it hadn't mattered, but the expressions on everyone's faces made it clear this really, really mattered.

Interrogative: subroutine ordering that vocalization.

No content.

Emotion Signifying was starting to gobble up more resources. Penny's hands were clasping and unclasping and a frown was dominating her face.

Her teammates were still staring.

"I… do not know why I said that," she said with complete honesty and great distress.

"What 'threat groups' did you have in mind?" said Blake with audible edge.

"The Whi—"

Penny cut power to Vocal before it could finish the words. It was the only thing Penny was sure would stop it. Once more, an interrupt signal had gone to Vocal, and Penny couldn't tell where it had come from.

Terror squeezed her tight. Penny felt like things were piercing her all over. Something was wrong with her, something was in her head that could make her say things, and those things were upsetting Blake, and the only way to safeguard herself was to strike herself dumb…

"The White Fang wasn't a threat back then," Weiss said, reviewing her notes with a frown. "It may be full of bloodthirsty maniacs now, but it had pacific ideals to start."

Penny restored power to Vocal; words spilled out of her. "The Atlas Military classified the White Fang as a threat group from its inception, to be monitored and controlled by all appropriate means."

"What the military considered 'appropriate', anyway," said Blake, and the look she was giving Penny hurt. It was… disapproval, and surprise, and…

…and…

"That is not saying the Atlas Military was correct," Penny said in a rush, relieved she could say the words on her own, terrified all over again that it was even a question. "A non-violent protest group hardly seems to meet the definition of 'threat'."

"You think?" said Blake scathingly.

It was becoming too much. How could Penny track down this system error or hidden subroutine or whatever it was and get Blake to stop looking at her like that and feel all these feelings at the same time?

Because now Tactical was pinging for more resources because Blake being defensive about the White Fang had triggered a new alert and oh gosh what was happening to her?

Blake stood and put her palms on the table, hunching her back like she was cornered. "Atlas treating the White Fang as a threat is part of what radicalized it," Blake said hotly. "The argument went, if the White Fang was going to be treated like a militant organization, why not actually be a militant organization?"

"And so the White Fang revealed its true col—"

Penny killed Vocal again, stricken with panic and shame at the words spilling unbidden from her mouth. This wasn't Penny, this wasn't Penny, but there was no way to say that, no way that didn't risk this thing taking control again and saying something hurtful and wrong and this wasn't Penny…

Penny fled.

Blake slumped into her chair. "I don't believe it," she said.

"I don't believe it," said Yang.

Blake's had whipped towards Yang. "I know you're not about to apologize for her," said Blake. "She said what she said."

"And it looked like it made her want to cry," said Yang. "I don't think she really believed what she was saying."

"People say what they believe," said Blake. "How are we supposed to know what a person means except by what they say? What other standard is there?"

"Well, there's how she's acted all this time," said Yang. "She knew you were a Faunus right off the bat…"

"And what's up with that?" interrupted Blake. "I still don't know how she knew!"

"…but has she ever treated you any different?" said Yang, not allowing herself to be distracted. "Has she ever shown even the slightest inkling of bad behavior?"

"It doesn't change what she said just now," said Blake.

"I don't get why you're this upset about this," said Weiss with genuine puzzlement. "Why are you defending the honor of the White Fang? It's not like you're a member."

Blake's look at Weiss was hot and fierce, but after several seconds she closed her eyes and seemed to be doing breathing exercises. "No," she said at length, "I'm not."

When she didn't continue speaking, a void emerged at their table, a vacuum that seemed to invite all sorts of implications to fill it. Almost any words, it seemed, could fit in that gap.

"So..." Yang said, desperate to break the silence.

Blake took one more deep breath; her eyes reopened and her voice was steady. "To many Faunus, the White Fang is the only organization that ever stands up for them. I'm not going to defend its methods," she said, waving off Weiss before she could retort. "There's no way to defend what the Vale Branch of the Fang has become. But if there was even one other organization that was always on the Faunus' side, if there was any other group the Faunus could count on for their defense, the White Fang wouldn't get nearly as many recruits as it does."

Understanding dawned. "So going after the organization that helps the Faunus..."

"…reinforces the grossly uneven status quo," said Blake. "Yes. What she said earlier was bad for all the same reasons: when you say a pacifist group deserves to be treated like terrorists…"

Weiss seemed unsettled for several moments, like she wanted to speak but couldn't find the right way to put it, before pushing on with what she had. "The words that Penny used," Weiss said. "Those exact words. I've heard them before. They were a common refrain in… certain circles."

"I'm sure," Blake said with a look of searing intensity.

Weiss was undeterred. "When I learned you were a Faunus, and thought about why you tried to hide it, I started to think about the things I'd heard. How many were what I believed, and how many were things I'd picked up passively along the way? How many were my words, and how many were my father's?

"I think Penny was doing that in real time. That's why she kept cutting herself off."

Blake folded her arms and leaned back to put distance between her and Yang and Weiss. "I'd just like to point out that the two of you are defending the person like you who said the hurtful thing, and not the person unlike you who was hurt."

"I'm not defending her," said Yang. "She said what she said, and she's got to either apologize or commit to it, and if she commits we're going to have problems. All I'm saying," she said with a pleading look at Blake, "is that if she does apologize, maybe you should believe her."

The silence that followed stretched on and on. Weiss and Yang didn't dare say anything more, and Blake appeared in no hurry to speak again.

When it had gotten so uncomfortable that Yang wanted to squirm, Blake at last said, "That's a pretty big 'if'."

She grabbed her books and moved for the exit. Weiss and Yang shared matching looks of confusion and despair.

Penny wasn't in the dorm when they got back from dinner. She wasn't in the dorm the next morning, when a clearly sleep-deprived Yang woke up Weiss and Blake in the absence of Penny's alarms. She didn't attend a single class, and of course she wasn't in the cafeteria.

By that evening, even Blake was more concerned about Penny than anything else. "Has she contacted any of you?" she asked Team JNPR at dinnertime.

"No," said Jaune. "We were hoping you knew."

Pyrrha wrung her hands together. "You don't think she's scared, do you?"

"I know she's scared of something," said Yang as she poked listlessly at her dinner. "I was watching her face when she left. Lots of fear there. I wish I knew what she was so scared of."

Pyrrha looked even guiltier. "She's scared of me."

"It can't be that," said Weiss. "You weren't there when she ran away."

Pyrrha looked a little mollified by this, but not much.

"Why would she be scared of you, anyway?" said Weiss. "I still don't understand what happened during that duel that was so dangerous Goodwitch had to intervene."

Pyrrha flicked her eyes around at the remaining members of Team BXPS. "I'm going to trust you with something," she said. "Something about me that could hurt my career if it got out, something I've kept secret as much as possible for years now. Can I trust you?"

"You can trust me for sure," said Weiss.

"If it's that important," said Blake, her own eyes downcast, "then keep it to yourself… unless you really think it's that important for Penny."

"It might be," said Pyrrha. She took a breath and held it. "My semblance is Polarity. I can control metal."

"Wow," said Blake. "That seems… infinitely useful."

"To have something that strong but use it with so much subtlety…" said Weiss with admiration. "There's real art to that. I didn't think I could respect you even more!"

"How does this help with Penny?" said Yang doggedly. Her eyes were bloodshot; the others wondered how much she'd slept. No estimate seemed too low.

"When we dueled," said Pyrrha, "it looked like she would get a hit on me, so I used my semblance to nudge her sword off course. But when I did… it affected her whole arm."

The others tried to take in the enormity of this statement. "You think her arm's prosthetic?" said Weiss.

Pyrrha shook her head. "I did at first, but when we broke away, I did a test to see what parts of her I could manipulate. The answer was… all of her."

Silence blanketed the table.

"I think..." Pyrrha said, more nervous than ever. "I think her whole body is prosthetic."

"Her whole body!" Yang repeated.

Pyrrha nodded, looking sick. "If Professor Goodwitch hadn't stopped the fight, I would have. The things I could do to her if I was going all out, without even meaning to…" she shuddered.

Jaune put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You did the right thing," he said.

"But... how's that possible?" said Blake. "I've touched her skin before, it is skin... right?"

"Maybe she has augmentation beneath the skin," said Pyrrha, "or maybe there's some new material over the prosthetics that feels like skin. I don't know. But I know what I felt."

"The only place on Remnant with the technology for that degree of prosthetics is Atlas," said Weiss. "If she was in Atlas for a while—and I can't imagine being fitted to that many prosthetics was quick—she might have absorbed a lot of Atlas chatter and attitudes along the way."

Weiss glanced at Blake, who looked confused and disturbed. "I still want to hear what she has to say for herself," said Blake, "but this would explain a lot."

"Except it still doesn't explain why she ran off now," said Yang. "Like, even if she was scared spitless of Pyrrha, our conversation was a day later and Pyrrha wasn't in it. How could that be it? I still say she grew up hearing bad stuff, then realized how bad that stuff was only when she had to say it herself."

"Maybe," said Weiss. "Or… maybe there's a reason she has this many prosthetics."

"Well, yeah, of course there's a reason," said Yang.

Weiss locked eyes with Blake. "I mean, maybe the White Fang's the reason. Maybe talking about the White Fang is hard because it's the White Fang that hurt her."

"That's some wild speculation," said Nora. "Even for me. Until she talks to you, I'd keep that one in the oven, let it cook some more."

"You're right," Weiss said with dignity. "I withdraw my statement." Blake nodded, but her face looked more disturbed than ever.

Yang's scroll chirped. "That's her," said Yang, recognizing the tones as those she'd assigned to Penny. "'I don't know if it's safe for you if I am near. I am separating myself from you until I figure that out. Please don't look for me.'"

"That's worse than we thought," said Jaune urgently. "The whole reason Penny came to Beacon was to make friends. Shutting herself away can't be good for her."

"But what can we do about it?" said Yang. "She said don't look for her."

"I think all we can do," said Jaune, "is tell her we support her, and that we'll be ready when she comes back."

It sounded so unsatisfying to Yang, so feeble. How meaningful could those words possibly be to someone in this much distress?

What could they say to make Penny not leave her? Like she'd been left before…

The thought was a knife to her guts.

But she had no better ideas. She sent the message with a piece of her breaking heart. The waiting began.

Movie night was cancelled. With Penny still missing, no one was in the mood.

The next day was the weekend, which was fortunate, because it meant fewer classes for Penny to miss.

"She could afford to miss a few," said Weiss with a hint of pride in her partner. "With her memory and intelligence, she's ahead in most every class already."

"Except history," said Blake.

No one could respond to that.

"It means we need to make fewer excuses for her," said Yang. "If she only ends up missing one schoolday, we won't have to try and explain it, I'd bet."

"These ifs keep stacking up on each other," said Blake. "I don't like it."

"What else can we do?" said Weiss. "She said not to look for her, and frankly I don't even know where I'd start."

"It wouldn't be the first time, either," said Yang. "Sometimes she'll disappear during the night, and I never have any idea where she goes."

"What a mess," said Weiss before she added in a much lower voice, "I hope she's okay."

Blake grimaced, but said, "Me, too."

Before anyone could say anything else, Blake's scroll beeped. "Is it Penny?" said Yang.

Blake's frown was deep, and only deepened as she continued to look at her scroll. "No," she said. She looked through more screens, her expression never relenting. "No, no."

"'No' what?" Weiss snapped.

Blake's head jerked up as if noticing her team for the first time. "I have to take this," Blake said. Without another word she fled the room.

Yang shook her head. "Hey, ice queen, remember how you were saying I was the most normal person on the team? I think you were right."

Weiss sighed. "I don't always enjoy being right."

Next time: Back to First Principles