Team RWBY and Team JNPR gather in the cafeteria for lunch, the usual buzz of students filling the air around them. Goodwitch's stern lecture on the group's recent second food fight still lingers in everyone's mind, and they had all promised to avoid any repeat incidents. Nora, however, looks visibly disappointed, sighing loudly about the loss of her favorite pastime—until a mountain of pancakes arrives at the table, instantly lifting her spirits as she digs in with glee.

Weiss, looking amused, leans over to Ruby. "I don't understand how Nora can eat breakfast food at any hour."

Ruby grins, shrugging. "Pancakes are, like, the ultimate food! And, you know, if we can't have food fights, at least we can enjoy the food."

Everyone laughs, but Yang's attention wanders to Pyrrha, who is seated a little farther down the table, listening quietly with a polite smile. Though she's trying to appear engaged, Yang can see the sadness that lingers in her eyes. Pyrrha has been quiet in their support group meetings, never really opening up, always keeping to herself. Yang feels a pang of concern—she knows all too well what it's like to carry that weight alone.

As the group finishes their meal and heads out, Yang notices Pyrrha slipping away by herself, carrying a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Curious, Yang decides to follow her, keeping a distance as she trails Pyrrha down the hallways of Beacon. She watches as Pyrrha makes her way to an empty training field, pulling on her combat gear and stepping into the simulation arena.

Yang hides nearby, watching as Pyrrha throws herself into combat, taking on one opponent after another in relentless succession. Each time, the session ends the same way—with Pyrrha on the ground, her Aura depleted. She forces herself to restart again and again, frustration building in her face. By the ninth round, her movements have become sluggish, and Yang can see she's exhausted. Finally, when an unexpected simulated enemy appears behind her, Yang steps in, firing a shot from Ember Celica that takes the enemy down instantly.

Pyrrha, startled, turns around, her gaze locking onto Yang. "Yang? What… what are you doing here?"

Yang smiles gently, tucking her weapon away. "I was about to ask you the same thing. You've been at this for a while."

Pyrrha looks away, her expression guarded. "Just… training. I need to be ready, in case—"

Yang steps closer, her voice soft. "Pyrrha… I get it. But there's more going on here, isn't there?"

Pyrrha's shoulders tense, and she doesn't answer. Yang takes a deep breath, her tone encouraging. "Look, you haven't said much in our sessions. Every time Ozpin asks if you want to talk, you say you're fine. But… I don't think you are."

There's a long silence before Pyrrha finally speaks, her voice tight with barely suppressed emotion. "Do you really think talking is going to help, Yang? I was there."

Yang's brows knit in confusion, but she stays quiet, sensing Pyrrha is about to share something significant.

"I was fighting Cinder that night on the tower," Pyrrha continues, her gaze distant. "I tried to hold her off. I fought as hard as I could. But then… she shot me. I… I lost. I managed to shield myself just enough to survive, but I couldn't move. I couldn't stop her." Her voice breaks, and she chokes back a sob. "I watched everything. I watched Cinder… kill Qrow, and I couldn't do anything to help. I was useless. And then she took your arm, right in front of me."

The weight of her words sinks in, and Yang feels a lump rise in her throat. She remembers Pyrrha lying in a hospital bed with her leg in a cast, right next to her. Yang had been so wrapped up in her own grief and pain that she hadn't once asked Pyrrha about what happened that night.

"Pyrrha," Yang says softly, trying to gather her own emotions. "None of this was your fault."

Pyrrha's voice shakes as she goes on, tears streaming down her face. "But it feels like it is. If I had been stronger… if I had fought better… maybe things would have been different."

Yang steps closer to Pyrrha, her eyes softening with empathy. She hesitates for a moment, then places a gentle hand on Pyrrha's shoulder. "Pyrrha, we were all trying to fight as hard as we could that night. You were up against someone who… she was more powerful than any of us imagined. And none of this—none of it—was because of you."

Pyrrha shakes her head, her voice catching. "But I froze, Yang. I've spent so much time training to be the best, to be a Huntress… and in that one moment when it really mattered, I couldn't do anything. I let everyone down. I let you down."

Yang takes a shaky breath, letting her own walls down just a bit. "You think I don't feel the same way? That I don't look back and wonder if I could've done something different? If I'd just… paid more attention, been quicker, been stronger—maybe Qrow would still be here." She lets the words linger, the ache in her chest raw and familiar. "But none of us knew what was coming. And there's no way to change what happened."

The two of them stand there in silence for a long moment, absorbing each other's pain. Yang reaches out, lifting Pyrrha's chin so they're eye to eye. "Qrow knew what he was doing. He knew the risks, and he chose to protect us. Cinder took him from us, not you. And I don't blame you—not even for a second."

Pyrrha's breath hitches, and a tear slides down her cheek. "I… I just feel like I failed. I've been carrying this guilt, and I thought if I kept pushing myself harder, I could… make up for it somehow. But it's just… breaking me down."

Yang nods, her expression a mix of sadness and understanding. "Believe me, I get it. I felt the same way. But these things don't just go away. That's why I'm going to those meetings. It helps to talk. To let yourself feel it, instead of trying to fight it off alone."

Pyrrha looks down, her defenses finally softening. "I just… didn't think anyone would understand."

"Maybe not everyone will," Yang says gently. "But I do. And so does the rest of our team. And we'll all be there for you, no matter what."

After a long pause, Pyrrha manages a small, fragile smile. "Thank you, Yang. I… I think I needed to hear that."

Without another word, Yang pulls her into a tight hug. Pyrrha hesitates, then lets herself relax, accepting the comfort. For a few moments, they stand together in shared silence, each holding onto the other.

Later that evening, Yang returns to the dorm, the weight of her conversation with Pyrrha still fresh in her mind. When she opens the door, Ruby is sprawled out on her bed, a comic book in hand, her legs hanging off the side. At the sight of her sister, Ruby perks up, quickly tossing her comic aside and sitting up.

"Hey, Yang!" Ruby says, her eyes widening with worry as she takes in her sister's expression. "Are… are you okay? Did you have another… you know, episode?"

Yang offers a small, reassuring smile, though her eyes betray the lingering emotions. "No, I'm alright, Rubes. Just… had a long talk with someone who needed to get some things off their chest."

Ruby tilts her head, curious. "Really? Who?"

Yang hesitates, deciding to keep Pyrrha's confession private. "Just… a classmate. They've been holding onto a lot, and I think talking helped them, even if it was hard."

Ruby's face softens, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Sounds like you're pretty good at helping people, you know that?"

Yang chuckles softly. "Well, I'm trying. But honestly… I think it helped me too. Sometimes, talking to someone else makes me feel a little less… broken."

At that, Ruby's expression shifts, a shadow passing over her face. "Yang… you're not broken."

Yang smiles, sitting down beside her sister on the bed. "Maybe. But a lot of us are hurting. And… we lost people we loved."

Ruby's gaze drops at the mention of loss. "Yeah… I miss Qrow every day. It's hard to think he won't just come walking through that door, with some excuse for why he's late and some terrible advice."

Yang wraps an arm around Ruby, pulling her close. "I know. I miss him too. He'd be so proud of you, Ruby."

Ruby sniffles, her eyes shining as she looks up at her sister. "You think so?"

"I know so," Yang says firmly. "He gave his life for us, and I think he'd want us to keep going. To keep helping others, just like he helped us."

Ruby leans into Yang, letting the words sink in, then takes a deep breath. "I know he would. But… sometimes, I just wish he was here."

Yang nods, her voice barely above a whisper. "Me too, Rubes. Me too."

They sit together in silence, leaning on each other, feeling the weight of their loss and the strength of their bond. And for a moment, in each other's presence, they find a small measure of peace.

Yang chuckles and, with a mischievous grin, playfully nudges Ruby, knocking her backward onto her bed. Ruby lets out a little squeal of surprise as she bounces on the mattress, then breaks into laughter, sticking her tongue out at her sister.

"Hey!" Ruby protests, playfully swatting at Yang as she sits up. "I wasn't done talking!"

"Oops," Yang teases, a playful glint in her eyes. "Didn't see you there, short stack."

Ruby rolls her eyes but smiles, the shadow of sadness momentarily gone. Yang gives her sister one last fond look before stretching with a yawn, heading towards the bathroom. "I'm gonna take a shower. Been a long day."

"Yeah, I can tell," Ruby says, wrinkling her nose. "You totally smell."

Yang snorts, tossing a pillow in her sister's direction, which Ruby dodges with a laugh. As she's about to close the door, Yang pauses and glances back. "By the way, where are Weiss and Blake?"

"Oh," Ruby says, settling back down with her comic book. "Weiss is taking an extra class with Professor Peach. She said something about wanting to 'polish her skill set' or whatever. You know Weiss. And Blake's just… wandering around. She needed some time to herself."

Yang nods thoughtfully. "Got it. So they'll be back in a few hours?"

"Yup!" Ruby says, her legs swinging off the bed as she flips her comic book open again. "Just us two for a while."

Yang smiles, then closes the door and turns on the shower, letting the warmth and steam start to wash away the day's heaviness.

Meanwhile, outside in the quiet corners of Beacon's campus, Blake finds a secluded spot by a grove of trees. The area is peaceful, touched by soft evening light, and the gentle breeze rustles the leaves. Blake glances around to make sure no one else is nearby, then sits down on a stone bench, pulling out a worn novel from her bag.

Opening the book to where she left off, she lets herself get lost in the words, grateful for the temporary escape. The lines pull her into a world far removed from her own—a world without the complications of guilt, fear, or war. It's exactly what she needs.

As she reads, her focus sharpens, tuning out everything else around her. But suddenly, her cat ears twitch, a small movement catching her attention. Her eyes go wide as she hears a faint rustle from somewhere nearby—a sound too deliberate to be the wind.

She freezes, every sense heightened, waiting to see if it was just her imagination—or if someone, or something, is watching her.

End of Chapter 3.