The Grimm Lands Chapter 21

Hunting Grounds Part 9

Tell Me How You Feel

Yang

The club smelled of stale sweat and cheap liquor. The lights flashed overhead in a rhythmic circle, sweeping across the empty dance floor—the steady beat of some nameless tune thumped in the background. Yang watched listlessly as Junior's men busied themselves around the corners of the empty stage and broken entrance. They stalked back and forth, pretending they were more than gutless guard dogs.

Junior busied himself behind the bar. The sound of the shaker in his hands felt nice, and the gentle rattle of the ice moving back and forth with the beat of the music almost staved off Yang's growing boredom.

"This ain't half bad, huh?" Yang asked.

"I don't think we're supposed to be here," Pyrrha said, her voice a low whisper, barely loud enough for Yang to hear. "Maybe we should come back later."

"Nah," Yang said. Junior slid her drink over the counter. Yang flashed him a grin, and the man stepped back, probably expecting some blow to follow. "We got the whole place to ourselves. You can expect this luxury when hanging with the great Yang Xiao Long."

"I don't think the staff here seems to like you very much," Pyrrha replied.

"Ah, they're all harmless," Yang said. "Besides, the big boss himself owes me a drink anyway. I'm sure you could take them if they get too close."

"Ability and accountability are not synonymous," Pyrrha said.

"Don't be such a worrywart."

"You broke open the front door."

"Yeah, I had to make an entrance, and look, it all worked out. No hassle, no fights, it's a win-win for us." Yang said. The drink was sweet, the fresh smell of strawberries masking the foul stench of the club. She had missed the partying, excitement, and thrill of cutting loose for a night. It had been too long since she had just sat back and let it all go. Tonight couldn't be that night. She took one more sip, trying to extend the feeling of freedom for a few moments longer. "But I guess you're right, down to business."

Pyrrha relaxed a little in her seat. It probably hadn't been fair for Yang to drag her along. Pyrrha was bad enough in most social situations, her status making it hard to blend in. Not to mention Pyrrhas' crippling inability to properly lie made her a liability in anything requiring a more stealthy approach. Though it was probably fine, stealth had never been one of Yang's strengths anyway, and if there was a fight, there was no one she would rather have watching her back.

"Alright, Junior," Yang said. "Spill it."

"It's like I told you before, I ain't got nothing for you. I haven't seen any White Fang, and I don't know nothing about Torchwick. Last I saw him, I lent him a couple of my guys, and he left. Haven't seen him since."

"Are you certain there's nothing else you can tell us?" Pyrrha asked. "Anything at all would be constructive."

"I ain't got nothing else for a couple of wannabe Huntresses."

"Wannabe?" Yang chided. "You're looking at the genuine articles."

"Right," Junior drawled. His jaw tightened, showing he wouldn't speak further on the subject.

"Y'know what I think?" Yang asked.

"I don't give a shit what you think. How's about you finish that drink and stop loitering around places you don't belong, blondie?"

"I think," Yang pushed ahead, relishing the frustrated scowl that knitted Juniors' eyebrows together. "I think some new, tougher game pranced its way into town. I think the big bad boss man of Vale himself found out he was suddenly a whole lot smaller than he realized. He was getting pushed around on his turf, getting the second-hand scraps of some fresh, new faces. You got beat out, and now you're just the middleman. Must suck not calling the shots anymore, huh, tough guy?"

Junior slammed down the glass in his hands so hard that Yang was surprised when it didn't break. Yang had struck something. It was confirmation that more was at play than just a mob boss. It wasn't much, but a lead was still a lead. She finished her drink, enjoying the last few drops, savoring them like the freedom she desperately wanted. But there would be time for relaxing and fun later.

She flashed Junior one more grin and a slight nod of thanks for the drink; flipping her hair, she rose and strutted out of the club. The door was already half open, creaking as it flapped uselessly in the afternoon wind. Yang hadn't meant to destroy it outright, but the presentation of her arrival always warranted some flair. The brisk winter air of Vale met her full force. Yang tugged the jacket around her more snuggly, letting her Aura dampen the rest of the breeze. Pyrrha followed close behind, a wave of apologies as she hurried out.

The streets were brimming with life and excitement. The Holidays meant more than just decorations and gifts; they also meant the arrival of the Vytal Tournament. It was the single largest televised event on Remnant—a collaboration between every central Huntsman school in a tournament format. Every four years, representatives of the combat schools, the best of the best, vie for the tournament championship. As a young girl, Yang had watched it every time. She had always envied the fighters. With wide-eyed glee and envy, she dreamed of her chance to participate, relish in the applause and excitement, and stake her name and reputation on the line in front of the world.

"Are you sure that was wise?" Pyrrha asked.

"Huh?"

"After all, we came for information, and I don't think we got much out of him. Should we go back?"

"What? You want to take a crack at him? I'm all for seeing you try and be intimidating, but I'm not sure it's in your wheelhouse."

"No," Pyrrha squeaked, her face reddened. "I just feel like we should have gotten more, especially after coming all the way out here."

"Nah," Yang said. "We got plenty. Did ya see how flustered he got at the end there? That's all the confirmation we needed. There's someone else at play here. The White Fang, Junior, and his goons somehow connect with the Dust robberies. He wouldn't have lost his cool if he had been calling the shots, so it must be someone else."

"And this helps us how exactly?" Pyrrha asked, stepping closer to Yang as they passed a group of people. Pyrrha gripped the edge of her hat, pushing it down over her face. "We still don't know who they are or what they want."

"Maybe not," Yang shrugged. "But at least we can widen our search now. Once the others get back, we should have more to work with."

"You seem pleasantly unbothered by all this," Pyrrha said.

"Not like worrying about what it could be will get me anywhere. Think about it, if we start running around like crazy trying to guess at every possible worry and angle we can, it's not going to somehow make it all better. So, just take it in stride, I say."

"Is that so?" Pyrrha hummed. "So we just wait until whatever it is strikes again."

"I didn't mean it like that." Yang ran a hand through her hair. "All I'm saying is we shouldn't have to run ourselves ragged before the enemy even gets here."

"The enemy is already here, Yang. They've already started, and as it stands, there's nothing we can do." Pyrrhas' anger was a shock. Yang stopped, turning to look at her friend. It was fleeting, but something deeply familiar flicked across the champion's face. She's afraid.

"Come with me." Yang grabbed Pyrrha's wrist, the taller girl offering a weak protest as she was dragged through the city streets.

The residential zones of Vale were bare in their layout. Sectionalized rows of houses and apartment buildings laid out in neat uniformity gave that part of the city an almost bleak utilitarian feel. After the Great War had razed most of the surrounding area to rubble, it was a necessary feature in the reconstruction. The city was a byproduct of the scars of war. Each zone had a function, a purpose. The years had blurred the uniformity, branching the zones and blending the city into a more modern metropolitan area. Even if boring, the sectionalized districts made it hard to get lost when traveling through Vale. By contrast, the entertainment district was a mismatch of differently sized buildings and businesses—a bright assortment of lights, decorations, and endless crowds of people. It was situated firmly between the docks and the residential zones, meaning it was never short of potential customers.

Junior's bar sat firmly at the center, connecting the docks and the entertainment district. Its business came from traveling tourists and adventure seekers, and it primed itself as an easy access point for smuggling operations. It was the perfect place for any number of illegal activities, the center of an ever-expanding spider web.

Yang crossed another intersection, passing by a loud group of older students. She pushed down the well of jealousy that swelled up as she watched them—screaming and laughing to their heart's content. That should have been her. She should have been spending her weekend making new and exciting memories, throwing caution to the wind as she indulged in her youth.

Instead, she tugged Pyrrha along to an open cafe. Neither spoke as the waitress led them to an open table outside. Yang toyed with her words silently. They sat across from each other. Neither had spoken as they ordered and received their drinks. Pyrrha declined to take off her hat, instead tightening the red scarf around her neck, tucking in her chin, and hiding behind her menu from the people who passed by them.

"Must be tough being an idol," Yang said in a halfhearted attempt to break the silence.

"It has its moments," Pyrrha said. "A lot of expectations, lots of fans and obligations. The pay is good, though."

"Not a chance," Yang said. She stirred the iced coffee with her finger. "You couldn't pay me enough to put up with half the crap I see you deal with. No, thank you."

"It's not all bad. I had quite a few good years. It can just be a little straining. Long hours, lots of tight schedules."

"Really? " Yang asked. "You're not even the champion anymore, so what's with the whole new look? It doesn't seem like things have gotten any better for you."

"Just because I retired doesn't mean I dont have other obligations," Pyrha said. She set the menu down, picked up her drink, and hesitated before putting it back down. "Besides, with the Vytal Tournament starting soon, there's been some talks about me potentially coming back to the Federation."

"Are you?"

"Absolutely not," Pyrrha said. "I walked away from it all to start fresh. I have no intention of returning."

"So, what are you going to do about the tournament?" Yang asked. She sipped her drink, weighting the flickering emotions on Pyrrha's face. "If you participate, it'll cause serious trouble for you, won't it?"

"I want to join," Pyrrha said. "The Vytal tournament was what inspired me to take up combat sports. Being a part of it would be a dream come true. More than that, though, I think a part of me wants to see how far I've come. Fighting alongside my teammates, being a part of something more than myself."

"I hear that," Yang said. "It's the same for me. It's kind of funny. Ruby wanted to be a Huntress cause of our mom. But for me, it was sitting down with our old man on the couch. We made this huge show of it, with snacks and drinks. He'd invite his old Huntsmen buddies over, and we'd all sit around and watch it. One year, my Uncle Qrow even stopped by. You should have seen him. He got so wasted that he and my dad got into a big fight right before the finals, which turned into a big thing. Everyone started a betting pool on who'd win before Mom showed up and broke it all up. That was when I wanted to be a Huntress, the friends, the stories, the freedom of it all."

Pyrrha laughed. It wasn't unpleasant; it was more of a stifled giggle than anything.

"What's so funny?"

"It's nothing. You just don't talk about home very often, is all." Pyrrha said. "It's kind of nice."

"Yeah, well, I think it's time you opened up a little too. What's got you so twisted up?" Yang asked.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Pyrrha," Yang said, raising a hand to cut her off. "Come on, we're past this, aren't we? It's me, what's bothering you?"

"It's nothing, really," Pyrrha said, wringing her hands. She stopped. It took a few minutes for her to build herself back up. "I think I'm still scared. I'm worried about what's happening in the city, and I'm still frightened about what happened in the forest. I don't want something like that to happen again, and I feel like we're rushing blindly into danger."

"Isn't that the whole role of a Huntress?" Yang countered.

Pyrrha shook her head. "Understanding the risks and pushing ahead regardless is different than charging blindly forward while knowing nothing. Even if we discover something, what can a group of trainees do to stop it?"

"Maybe nothing," Yang shrugged. "But we all agreed it's something we've gotta do. Blake and Jaune have too much skin in the game to back down, and Ruby will do what she thinks is right no matter what. You and I? We don't have much of a choice. We just have to be there to back them up when they need it, no matter what."

"We're still just charging blindly into danger," Pyrrha said.

"Kind of fun, isn't it?" Yang said with a grin.

"How can you be so relaxed about all of this?"

Yang paused. She tipped back her drink, trying to think out her following words carefully. She waited for the magic words that would make everything all right and make Pyrrha suddenly understand. The perfect words didn't come. Instead, an unpleasant feeling returned. The same one that kept haunting her.

"I'm just used to it, I guess," Yang said. Her sweet drink suddenly tasted bitter. "If it's not Ruby rushing ahead, then it's me."

Yang's scroll chimed, cutting off Pyrrha's next question. Blake had sent her a message. Yang hummed as she thumbed open her contacts. She held up the screen for Pyrrha to see and smiled.

"Looks like we're in luck. We've got ourselves a lead."

"We were too late," Blake said, pacing the length of the dock. The wind flipped her dark hair wildly back and forth. Yang made no motion to stop her. Blake grumbled and growled to herself, her steps long and deliberate. The salty taste of the air made Yang's face dry, and the constant scent of the sea clogged her nose painfully.

Yang perched herself atop an empty shipping crate. The worn metal was battered and dented. She could see the tear where the metal hinges had been ripped off. The rusted hatch that had been the entrance lay a few feet away. Whatever had been inside had been big and heavy. The deep impressions of robotic legs had been pushed so deeply into the concrete that it left sunken impressions. There had been more than one. Dozens or even more impressions broke apart the ground, trailing up and away until they suddenly stopped. Rubber tracks started where they had all ended.

"Well, we gave it our best shot," Yang said. "We couldn't exactly expect a miracle here. Not when we were already starting behind the curve."

"What could the White Fang need with heavy machinery?" Blake asked, her cheeks flushed. There were dark circles under her eyes. Yang hadn't noticed just how badly the stress was affecting her partner. Blake's eyes were red, and Yang was sure it wasn't just from the salty sting of the air.

"Do we know what exactly was in the crates?" Pyrrha asked.

"No," Ren answered. He rose from his seated position near the edge of the dock. "The logs we managed to obtain all said it was all food product. At this point, we can only guess."

"We had them!" Blake said. "We had them, and they slipped away."

"Easy there," Yang said, hopping down from her perch. She stepped closer to her partner and braced a steady hand against Blake's shoulder. "It's not like we're back to square one. We just gotta dig a little deeper, is all. We'll get 'em."

"This isn't right." Blake shook her head. "The White Fang I know wouldn't have smuggled in Atlas equipment or Grimm."

"Well, let's be honest here. You're not exactly a member of the White Fang anymore. Things have probably changed since you've been gone." Yang said. It felt like she was talking to a wall. Blake's expression didn't change. She made no sign that she was even listening.

"The tire marks are still fresh. If we leave now, we might be able to track them." Blake said. The tiredness in her eyes was replaced with a sudden fervor. Yang knew that look. She had seen it in herself before. She knew nothing good would come of it.

"Let's pump the brakes on that one for now," Yang said, holding up a hand when Blake started to protest. "Let's see what Ruby and Weiss have found out before we do anything else."

"We can't waste any more time." Blake tried to press. Yag ran a hand through her hair, willing down the frustration.

"I'm not saying we're not going to kick some serious ass later. I'm just saying let's wait till we have everybody here to do it."

It was a weird dichotomy Yang recognized, or perhaps hypocrisy. If she had been by herself, she would have had no issues charging blindly ahead, heedless of any consequence or trouble that may arise—but seeing Blake's almost panicked exhaustion taking over had given Yang a considerable pause. She couldn't allow her friend to keep going as she was.

Yang knew she should say something to try and convince her friend to listen to reason, but the words failed her. Instead, Yang sat at the edge of the dock, watching absentmindedly as the waves rolled beneath her. The constant motion of the sea gave her some comfort as her mind drifted. She thought of home. The small wooden house that she had called home. The warmth of the fireplace that roared late at night as she settled down on the couch with her sister. There was more to it. She remembered the good as well as the bad. But the mixture of both gave her a profound feeling of longing.

"Maybe that's it." She said to herself.

Before she could pursue it further, the rest of her team returned. Ruby practically flew across the harbor, red petals trailing behind her in a flurry of movement. Ruby skidded to a stop right before her, her wide grin plastering her face as she spoke, her arms waving up and down animatedly. "Yang, guess what? We totally got everything we were looking for, and on top of that, I made a brand new friend."

"Really now?" Yang asked.

It was easy to see her sister as a child. Her short stature almost always meant Yang had to look down to talk. More than that, Ruby's excitement always ran through her at full force. It made Ruby seem like an endless source of energy like a kid hyped up on sugar. Yang has always been the center point, the one Ruby came to in her happiest and darkest moments. Yang was a pillar, which forced her to look at her sister as someone who needed to be protected or looked after. It was a position Yang had been happy to fill, but Beacon was meant to be a way to step away from her sister. To allow Ruby to gain independence and allow Yang to soak in the freedom she desperately wanted. But of course, her exceptional, incredible sister had to blast past every obstacle and force herself back into Yang's path.

"Yup!" Ruby said. Turning, she looked back, and two more figures approached. Weiss grumbled an insult, complaining about having to chase after her partner. The other figure, a short, red-haired girl with bright green eyes and a freckled complexion, stiffly approached. "I'd like to introduce you guys to my new friend, Penny!"

"Salutations, Ruby's friends," the girl said with a salute. "I have come to support you in your endeavor to, as friend Ruby says, kick the bad guy's butts."

"Well, I like her already." Yang chimed in.

"Ruby," Blake said as she and the others approached. The frustration bled into Blake's voice as she spoke. "Are you sure inviting others into this is a good idea? We are supposed to be discreet, after all."

"Yeah, I know, but just wait. Penny's super awesome. She already figured out where the Dust shipments are coming from," Ruby said. With a wave, she signaled for Penny to take over and explain. The girl remained still for a moment before she jolted a little, suddenly understanding.

"Yes, it is, as my friend Ruby says. The Dust shipments have no record of leaving the city. Only the usual recorded shipments of all legal transactions between Atlas and Vale exist. Nothing of note has been cited in any outgoing shipments or trades between Vale and any other major port."

"Okay…" Yang said, drawing out the word. "So where does that leave us exactly?"

"It means," Weiss chimed in. "That the Dust isn't leaving the city. Of all the robberies that have been reported since before Initiation, none of the Dust has left the region. It means that the Dust is still here."

"So what?" Blake asked. "There's a whole deposit of Dust just sitting inside Vale?"

"Perhaps," Weiss said. "It would go a long way to explain the White Fang smuggling in Atlas equipment and the weapons in the forest."

"If I may," Penny chimed in. She raised her hand like a child waiting to be called on. "I have confirmed records tying this shipment to a trading vessel under the authorization of the Scipio Foundation."

"Scipio," Pyrrha asked. "That sounds familiar."

"Well, duh," Ruby said, cutting off Weiss. "They're only the biggest developer of modern Huntsmen-based combat gear on Remnant. I mean, from rifles to daggers, they've got it. You should see the lineup for their Winter selection catalog. I heard they've even started developing more combat drones for the Atlas military and dipping their hands into airships."

"I see," Pyrrha held up her hands in surrender. "Well, I suppose it makes sense that the White Fang would want to steal equipment from them."

"Weiss, you're rich and well-connected," Yang said. "Any ideas on if the Scipio's would back a terrorist group?"

"Resistance fighters," Blake defended. Yang conceded with a wave.

"I know the Scipio's. At least, I did. The only daughter was promoted to the acting head of the foundation just before I left for Beacon. I attended her father's funeral." Weiss said. "I haven't kept up with any news related to Atlas since I arrived here. Lucia was well-mannered and always coy, but I never suspected she would be a part of anything like this."

"Wait, you know Lucia Scipio?" Ruby pressed, her eyes alight with unbridled excitement. "That's the coolest thing you have ever said."

"Anyways," Yang said, steering the conversation back. "Looks like we're back to smuggling. But this doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Shipping Grimm and weapons, not to mention stealing and hoarding Dust. This seems like a weirdly roundabout way to get a few weapons and ammunition. Even if we assume they're hoarding the stuff, it doesn't help us figure out where they're hiding it."

"Actually," Pyrrha chimed in. "I may have an answer to that end. We saw mostly Grimm and armed White Fang guards when we attacked that bunker in the forest. But I don't recall seeing any Dust."

Pyrrha looked to Ren for confirmation. He shook his head, and Pyrrha pressed on. "Jaune said there was a tunnel connecting the inside of the bunker to the rest of the Forest. Atlas used it as a staging area during the Great War. He never made it all the way in, so maybe that's where the Dust is going. The Bunker was destroyed in our fight, and I doubt the tunnel is still there."

"Well," Yang said. "Even if all of that is true, and that is a big IF, it means our search just turned from all of Vale to all of the Emerald Forest."

"No," Blake said. Her tired eyes were a sharper color, returning to her pale face. "If there are records of the bunker, then there might be maps of its layout. We can trace it back."

"Alright," Yang said. "But that still doesn't answer what the Dust is for. If it were ammunition, that's one thing, but you wouldn't need to shove it through abandoned tunnel systems if you were trying to arm all your guys on the ground for some kind of attack."

"Weiss?" Ruby asked. She had been so silent that Yang had almost forgotten she was there. There was a serious look on her face, an uncommon intensity. "How much Dust, roughly, do you think was stolen?"

"I only saw the gross profit losses in the system." Weiss pressed a finger to her chin in concentration. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on some unseen problem. "At my best guess, I would say maybe, anywhere from eighty to ninety pounds of processed Dust. And about thirty tons of unprocessed."

"Ruby," Blake said. Her face had fallen, the color lost, and the shakiness of her voice caused a swell of dread to seize in Yang's chest. "You don't think…"

"Yup," Ruby said. "It's probably a bomb."


The return to Beacon had been silent. The revelations of their findings were like an oppressive weight crushing them underneath. Ruby had declined to return with the rest of them, promising to show Penny around the city and take in the sites and decorations. Surprisingly, Weiss agreed to go with them. A pang of envy welled up deep inside Yang, seeing her sister able to push forward so carefree. Another part of her wished she had joined them. But there was something more important she had to do first.

She found Blake curled up on her bed. The blankets scrunched tightly underneath her, draping over her feet. She was hunched, her head pressed tightly against her knees. Blake didn't raise her head when Yang entered; she didn't even greet her.

The dorm room had evolved. It had changed. It had the same four white walls and the same carpeted flooring. But there was so much more life than just a few months ago. The walls were plastered with posters—some of the popular boy bands from Yang's collection, some of Weapons from Ruby's. The desks in the corners were scattered with books and assignments, all signs of Weiss' losing battle to regain some kind of organization having been abandoned in a fit of frustration. The windowsill had a bookshelf filled with novels, mainly of Blake's choosing.

The room wasn't quite like home, but it felt close enough. It had become their space. Thinking of it that way made it easier for Yang to try and approach her Partner.

"Hey," Yang said.

No response.

"So," Yang stalled, piecing together her words as she went. "That was a lot, huh? Anything on your mind?"

Still nothing.

Of course, it's not going to be that easy. Yang chided herself. The signs had been there for days now. The growing restlessness of her partner, the constant agitation. It was probably to be expected. Blake had put herself at the center of their investigation, driven to try and piece it together, even if by herself. She placed herself at the center of everything, bearing the weight of it all on her shoulders. Yang knew because she had done it to herself before.

Yang stepped closer. She hesitated a moment before gently sitting on the bed inches from Blake. The mattress sprung gently under her weight. Blake moved her head, her tired, reddened eyes staring quizzically.

"Tell me about Menagerie," Yang said softly.

"What?" Blake asked, confusion etching herself so deeply onto herself Yang could see the crease in her brows.

"Tell me about it," Yang repeated patiently. "I've never been there. What's it like? What's there to do?"

"Why do you care?"

"Cause I know you do," Yang said with a slight shrug. "Good enough for me."

"It's…" Blake started. Her voice was hoarse, dry, and cracking under the strain of her own words. "It was a penal colony for the early developmental period of Atlas' expansion after the Great War…"

Yang held up a hand to stop Blake, shaking her head. "Not that. I can read about that from a history book or listen to Professor Oobleck's long-winded lectures. I want you to tell me about it."

"I'm not sure I get what you're after."

"It's not that complicated," Yang said, running a hand through her hair. "For me, Patch is cozy. It's a little small, but it makes getting to know everybody there easy. It's mostly small towns. My first night in Vale was the first time I saw a big city. And I gotta admit, I like it here. The sights and the activity are just a lot of fun. But Patch is still that small place of home. The good and bad. You know?"

"I think so?" Blake asked. She paused for a minute, biting her lower lip. "Menagerie is a bad place."

She stopped, and Yang waited.

"I mean, it's awful. Almost all major cities are along the coast, so it constantly reeks of fish. There's a lot of Grimm deeper inland, so it's hard to settle, so everyone mostly clumps together in the major cities. It makes them overcrowded, and we don't have enough housing for everyone. We mostly fish and farm, but the droughts can be long and hard, so when trade is down, we have a lot of food shortages. We don't have a lot of larger infrastructure either, so we don't have much development—no cars or transport ships. There are no roads either. The ones we have aren't paved, just sand and rock."

Yang said nothing, the silence urging Blake to keep going.

"We have a lot of foliage, though. Huge palm trees that seem to go on forever. We have a lot of earthquakes, too, so most of our buildings are wooden and easy to rebuild. I remember we had a bad storm year when I was a kid. A huge tsunami off the opposite coast where I'm from. It destroyed everything. The storm caused a few large waves to crash into my town. It leveled buildings and homes. The next day, my dad gathered me and a bunch of the other citizens, and we all pitched in to rebuild. It took a few weeks, but we did it. The people are the greatest. Some of the kindest I've ever met. We all pitch in where we can help whenever we can. There's no place like it."

Yang was silent. Blake was rambling, her eyes far away, but her smile grew warmer as she remembered bits and pieces. The odd story here and there added more life and color back into her cheeks. It wasn't surprising when the tears started to flow. They weren't large, just small wet streaks that steamed down, leaving almost invisible trails in their wake. When Blake finally noticed, she stopped, wiping the tears away with her hands and sniffing.

"Sorry," She apologized. "I'm probably boring you."

In response, Yang reached out. Her strong hands were gentle and careful as she hugged her partner. "No, not at all. I'd like you to tell me more."


A.N: Well, here we are. Finally, some kind of schedule; it took long enough. For those of you who are wondering, we are getting back into Jaune's story in the coming chapters. If anything, he is taking center stage once more, though I'm not quite sure he's ready for it. This story has changed as I've written it, and some other characters have really surprised me. Regardless, the next update should hopefully be up early next month.

Guest: I'm Glad you're enjoying the dynamic. Penny is surprisingly hard to write without making a caricature, but I'm glad she's coming through alright.

Guest: I wouldn't quite say she's free just yet. She has some significant issues coming up in the future, not to mention that she still has that Schnee attached to her name. However, I am stupidly excited about the Whitley and Weiss meeting. Ruby is a character I have been having issues placing in more pivotal roles, but I think in the latter half of the Beacon arc, she'll gain more agency. As for our love interests, they should all be wrapped up quite soon. Lucia and Jauns backstory isn't quite finished yet.

Josh Spicer: Don't worry, Jaune is coming back full force. He took a back seat so I could do some other character-building, but he is finally in a place where I think he can really let loose. Looking back, I think I was a bit unfair with how I treated his worldview.

Guest: What I was aiming for is that his reasons for fighting aren't what's being questioned but rather what he hopes to gain from it. Instead, what future does he possibly have?

Guest: In hindsight, I still think I was too shortsighted and curt with how I treated the characters, Weiss most especially. But I am glad that their dynamics have improved, and it's a relief that they are coming across more smoothly.

Guest: I'm really glad to hear that. Hey, this chapter made it out way quicker than most others!

Again, thank you for all the support. I'm happy you guys are enjoying it. If you liked it, leave a comment. I can't improve if you guys don't tell me what needs work or tell me about the things you enjoyed. Regardless thank you for reading, really it means the world.