Incessant key tapping provided a steady drone sporadically interrupted by spurts of hushed conversation. Blake's hands flew across the keyboard the same as the other analysts, but she hardly registered the numbers on the screen in front of her. The dry, monotonous work left her mind free to wander, so wander it did. The weather. What she wanted for dinner. What book she would start tonight. Every thought pointedly short and shallow. She didn't want to think about the date, or what the shifting seasons signified, or any of the other matters begging for her attention.

"Hey, Claire. Claireeee."

A hand waved in front of her face, startling her enough that she finally looked up. Two girls, both several years younger than her, crowded around her small desk and cubicle. The one who just got her attention - short, thin, with a pedicure and a perm - rolled her eyes while leaning away.

"God, you'd think that wasn't your name or something," she joked. Her friend, who looked nearly her opposite, obligingly laughed when nudged in the side.

"Hey, Hailey…" Blake said - more like sighed, though Hailey didn't notice. "What's up?"

"Jen and me are bored, so we thought we'd see what our favorite analyst is up to."

"I'm…working?" Blake motioned to the screen, where rows upon rows of numbers made her vision swim. If she thought that would convince them to leave, she was wrong. Hailey bobbed her head and perched on the desk instead.

"Oh my gosh, we have the biggest scoop for you." She sat up tall to check the other cubicles - people hard at work like Blake suddenly wished she was - before ducking down and lowering her voice. "Did you hear that Steve from accounting asked Beth out?"

"And she turned him down!" Jen added - a little too excitedly for poor Steve.

"Of course she did. Who wants to date someone who works in accounting?"

"I don't know…" Jen hummed. "That new guy's kind of cute."

"Ew, Jason? Really?" Hailey made a disgusted face and, when Jen shrugged, said, "He's so boring. He'll literally talk about books."

"Some people like books."

"No girl's going to be swept off their feet by books," Hailey proclaimed while Blake stealthily resumed typing. They were talking around her now rather than to her, and she'd learned how to tune them out while still offering appropriately timed 'mhmm's and 'really?'s. If they needed her attention for something -

"Hey, Claire." Blake blinked and looked up at Hailey, whose green eyes sparkled as she leaned closer. "You seeing anyone?"

Blake looked down, hoping to conceal her wince, and muttered, "I'm not."

"Oh. Well, I hear Jason's available."

Hailey offered a winning smile while Jen gawked at her.

"So he's too boring for you but not for her?"

"Well, yeah…" Hailey meaningfully nodded to Blake, who Jen glanced at before letting it go.

Blake also let it go. They thought she was boring, and she did nothing to prove them wrong. She initially thought that being boring would convince them to bother someone else. Instead, they had decided to share their far more interesting lives with her like a pair of social butterflies adopting a lowly snail.

While they twittered on about ideal romantic candidates in the 'best' departments - marketing and sales, apparently - she worked and casually wondered what they would think if she told them her real story. Her name wasn't Claire. She only lived in Vacuo because Witness Security chose it for her - and they didn't ask for her input. She disliked this job as much as they did, but her other skills didn't transfer well to the regular workforce.

She truthfully wasn't seeing anyone, but that also wasn't by choice. If it were up to her, she would still be madly in love. She would be spending every day and night with the person who completed her heart. Maybe she would even be making wedding plans by now. Instead, she listened to two relative strangers vent about their romantic struggles until an older woman with platinum blonde hair interrupted.

"Hello, ladies." Her grey eyes surveyed the scene to determine if any work was being accomplished.

"Hi Doreen," Hailey replied, her smile bright. "I love that pin."

Doreen glanced down at the garishly large broach on her jacket and beamed. "Thank you, Hailey. It was my great-great-grandmother's. She made it out of whatever scraps of fabric she found around the house. Her mother was a seamstress, you see - she hand-made all the family's clothing - so there were always stray buttons and bits of felt floating around."

"Oh, wow." Remarkably, Hailey's smile hadn't faltered for the entire story, even as Jen hid a snicker behind one hand. "That's a very important pin. Like a piece of history!"

"It is. It really is." Doreen lightly touched the strips of odd-colored fabric that had been sewn into an avant-garde flower before turning to Blake. "Claire, dear, I have something special for you." With a flourish and blinding smile, Doreen revealed a long, thin box wrapped in the company's wrapping paper. "Congratulations!"

"For…?" Blake asked, reluctantly accepting the box.

"It's your one-year workiversary!" Blake's heart clenched at the reminder, but Doreen continued unaware. "The company wanted to give you something to celebrate. A year is a long time, you know. How many relationships even last a year?"

"None of mine," Hailey quipped, grinning as Jen huffed and Doreen laughed as if that was the funniest joke she had ever heard. Blake, meanwhile, stared at the box as Doreen patted her shoulder and backed away.

"I'll let you three get back to work. But don't forget about our Fri-YAY Funfest tomorrow!"

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Hailey called out but, as soon as Doreen was out of earshot, rolled her eyes. Jen snickered before nudging the bottom of Blake's chair.

"What'd you get?"

As they leaned closer, Blake tore off the wrapping paper and removed the box's lid. Resting inside? A corporate-branded pen. Hailey and Jen laughed while Blake tossed it into her desk alongside a handful of identical pens.

"Well, that's like money in your pocket," Hailey commented before glancing around and lowering her voice. "I can't believe Doreen gave that to you with a straight face. She must be that oblivious."

"At least she remembered the day, right?" Jen pointed out.

"Oh, sure. She has a calendar in her office with every 'workiversary' circled."

"Does she really?"

"I'd bet on it."

While they launched into another conversation, Blake watched the tiny clock on the bottom right corner of her screen. As soon as it read five o'clock, she logged out, grabbed her bag, and stood up.

"I should get going." She motioned to the exit, anxious to leave before the other analysts rushed to the exit, but Hailey reached out to stop her.

"Wait! Maybe we should get a drink or something. You know, to actually celebrate surviving a year at this place."

Hailey and Jen's expectant, almost genuine smiles suggested that they truly wanted to spend more time together, but Blake shook her head.

"Sorry, I have plans. Next time though." She added a small smile and, thankfully, both quickly recovered from the rejection.

"One day, we'll convince you to hang out with us," Hailey even said while Jen dutifully nodded. Blake, however, faintly smiled and headed out rather than explain that she had no interest in seeing them outside of work. She had no interest in seeing them at work, but that was apparently unavoidable.

Maybe one day she would agree, if only out of guilt after declining so many times already. They were friendly enough, although shallow and a bit cruel. She didn't want to get close to anyone though. Getting close meant lying to keep up her identity, and she was tired of lying. Lying was what got her relegated to a mundane, monotonous life in hot, dry Vacuo in the first place.

Despite the calendar inching toward winter, a wall of heat greeted her outside the revolving glass doors releasing a stream of workers from their overly air-conditioned offices. She was one of them - just one of many - and she blended into the crowd as easily as a fish joining a school. They were all headed home, to dinner, to the bars, on errands, or - in her case - to the gym. After boarding the next train headed that way, she grasped one of the handholds and watched Vacuo fly past beyond the windows.

A year. An entire year had passed.

She couldn't believe that she survived. She had lost count of the number of times when she was a breath away from storming out of the office and jumping onto the next flight to Vale. She had lost count of the number of times when she nearly gave up and admitted that she couldn't stay away from the person who still held her heart, and that she would rather be in prison than a world apart.

But she sucked it up. She showed up on time every day, did what was asked of her, and left when five o'clock arrived. She was, according to her performance reviews, a model worker. Her landlord considered her a perfect renter. She paid her bills on time. She waited for the walk signal to cross the street. She never stepped a foot out of line.

Part of her hoped that her good behavior counted for something. That it served as some sort of proof that she could be an upstanding member of society. With every passing day, she worried that it was all for nothing. A year and three days had passed since she arrived in Vacuo, yet she was just as invisible and out of place as ever. Even worse, it felt like she'd been forgotten.

Glynda used to touch base regularly, but those check-ins had become more and more infrequent. Even this week, Blake thought that Glynda might reach out to offer congratulations for making it this long. Instead, her phone remained as painfully silent as ever.

Her grip tightened on the metal pole as the train slowed, and she soon joined the slew of riders exiting onto the platform. From there, it was a short walk to another oasis of air conditioning - this one combined with the whirring of treadmills, clanks of metal hitting metal, and light conversation between workout partners. The girl behind the front desk nodded as she scanned her ID. After a quick stop in the locker room, she claimed a treadmill for herself, picked a playlist, and started running.

What used to be something she only did when she found time had become a nightly ritual. As a result, she was probably in the best shape she had ever been in, including when her dad was still training her in martial arts despite her lack of desire to master something she 'didn't need.' He always said that if she needed it, she would be glad she put in the effort, and then made her do another set of whatever they were working on.

Shutting off the memory, she focused on people-watching as the evening began. Newcomers claimed the machines around her, adding to the sense of life permeating the gym. It wasn't long before the dayshift ended and shirts and shorts emblazoned with 'Vacuo P.D.' started showing up. These young men and women all seemed to know each other, and they enjoyed laughing, teasing, or chatting while fitting in a workout.

Blake was on the outside looking in like a window shopper peeking into an exclusive club, but she found a sense of comfort in their boisterous energy. The way they walked, talked, and pushed themselves during their exercises felt familiar in a distant, aching way. The sad part was that they would probably kick her out if they knew who she really was. They wouldn't want her anywhere near them, not even if she borrowed a treadmill off to the side of 'their' gym. So she stayed out of the way, content to just be in their orbit for the evening.

Only after running enough to take the sting out of Doreen's untimely reminder did she hop off the treadmill and consider her options for the day. Most of the popular machines were occupied by men and women of all walks of life, each one here with a particular goal in mind. Her gaze wandered across the array of dumbbells and kettlebells racked near the padded mats, but a young man with a bright smile waved at her before she made a decision.

"Hey, Claire!"

"Oh, hey, Sun." She slapped his raised hand once he bounded over, earning a grin. "How was your day?"

"Eh, the usual." He shrugged before running his fingers through his spiky blonde hair. The motion drew out the definition in his biceps, which were hardly concealed by his tight white shirt. "Heading out already?"

"Not even close. Have to finish arm day first." She pointed at the dumbbells before a thought popped into her mind. "Unless you want to spar?"

She nodded to the unoccupied mats near the punching bags, but Sun shook his head and pointed to a swollen bruise on his left shin.

"Probably not the best idea. Got a little banged up today."

"Wow. What happened?"

"Drunk guy couldn't follow directions." When her brow rose, Sun chuckled and again swiped a hand through his hair. "Drunk guys are strong, too. Tossed a table like it was nothing, then kicked me when I was trying to get him to sit down."

"Ouch."

"A risk of the job!" He beamed, as proud of his battle wound as he was of the gold shield logo on his shirt. "Maybe you can convince one of the other guys," he added before scanning the gym. "How about Yatsu? He's probably a glutton for punishment."

Sun pointed out a towering young man with short black hair who was currently pushing an impressive amount of weight onto a steel bar.

"Yatsu's also about a hundred pounds above my weight class."

"Which means he might actually stand a chance."

While Sun chuckled and nudged her elbow, she spared another glance at the potential sparring partner before shaking her head.

"Oh! What about Neptune?"

Sun nodded to a blue-haired boy currently more interested in working his charm on the receptionist than in working out. Blake took one look at him and scoffed.

"I don't think he's up for that." Considering her two options were a mountain or a womanizer, she shook her head. "Guess it's arm day for me."

"Sorry. Next time though!" Sun backed away and grinned. "Let me know if you need a spotter or something."

"Thanks, Sun."

"No prob!"

Sun winked before rescuing the receptionist from Neptune's advances, or rescuing Neptune from making a fool of himself. Blake, meanwhile, grabbed her water and set herself up for one of the routines she'd mastered months ago. She took her time and focused on form while moving from one exercise to the next. Unlike most of the people around her, she was in no hurry to go home.

The evening rush slowed to a trickle and then began to recede as other obligations called people away. She had no responsibilities requiring her attention, but she liked living amongst the fervor if only as a fractional participant. For this small slice of time, she felt like she was a part of something.

Once her arms started burning, she finally called it a day. After showering in the locker room and changing into clean clothes, she headed for the exit with her head held high but with what felt like lead weights tied to her ankles.

Sun and Neptune had relocated to the bench press, but it looked like they had given up on working out long ago. Instead, Sun sat on the bench while Neptune chatted up a storm beside him. When Sun caught sight of Blake, however, he ignored Neptune in favor of a big wave and friendly, "See you around!"

She waved back and had one foot out the door when she overheard Neptune say, "I'm telling you though - those Vale P.D. girls are hot."

"And way out of your league," Sun joked.

Blake backed up and let the door close in front of her.

"What's that?" she asked. Fortunately, Sun thought nothing of her joining the conversation.

"We're running joint exercises with Vale P.D. this week. Showing 'em how Vacuo does it." He grinned and lightly punched Neptune's leg. "At least, we're trying to, but they're wiping the floor with us so far."

"Don't worry. We'll win when it counts."

"You mean we'll drink 'em under the table tomorrow?" Sun clarified. When Neptune nodded, Sun high-fived him and said, "Hell yeah."

Blake could hardly follow the conversation with her brain stuck in a loop of 'Vale P.D. is in Vacuo, Vale P.D. is in Vacuo. Vale P.D. is in Vacuo.'

"Who'd they send?" she interrupted. "Vale," she clarified, nonchalantly motioning with one hand when they blinked at her. "They sent a handful of officers or something?"

"Like a dozen," Neptune answered. "And a couple girls from SWAT." He whistled in appreciation. "Vale SWAT goes hard, man."

One very specific question popped into her mind, but she swallowed it. She had already shown too much interest - any more and they would wonder why she cared so much. And if she asked what she really wanted to ask, her curiosity might make it back to the person she was curious about.

She should leave. Instead, she cleared her throat and shifted her bag on her shoulder.

"So you train together all week…then go drinking?"

"'Celebrating,'" Sun corrected with a chuckle. "Really, we're going to see who can drink more, and some of us will try to score." He whispered the last part behind one hand and pointed at Neptune.

"Hey, not my fault the ladies love me."

Neptune winked at Blake but then yelped when Sun punched him in the thigh.

"Dude, don't be gross."

After making a face at Sun, Neptune gave Blake a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, Claire. No disrespect or anything."

"None taken." He looked relieved, but she turned to Sun. "So where's this drinking extravaganza taking place? So I know where to avoid tomorrow night."

"The Chief rented out The Cactus Club for us."

"And the drinks won't be the only thing getting prickly if you know what I mean."

This time, Blake scrunched her nose, so Sun stood up, grabbed Neptune by the back of the neck, bent him forward at the waist, and turned him around.

"Dude, go do some pushups until you can be chill," Sun ordered, giving Neptune a slight shove toward the mats. Neptune complained under his breath as he went, but Sun rolled his eyes. "Sorry about him. He doesn't have much going on between his ears."

"It's fine, really." Before getting sucked into further conversation, she motioned over her shoulder and said, "I should get going." As soon as he nodded, seemingly expecting her rapid exit, she hurried outside.

The temperature had dropped as the sun set, lending a chill to the air that felt even colder against her warm skin. With her thoughts racing like wild horses, however, she hardly paid the cold any mind.

Members of the Vale Police Department were in Vacuo. Which ones, though? She needed to know like she needed her next breath, but asking Sun would have opened a giant can of worms. Not asking had already opened a giant can of worms if her suddenly scattered composure was any indication. She hardly noticed boarding the next train, or the walk from the train station to her apartment building, where her only break from those all-consuming thoughts was a quick stop at a newsstand several blocks away.

"Hey, Claire," the owner greeted her, his smile as warm and friendly as ever.

"Hey, Joe. How'd it go today?"

She motioned to the small stand stocked with everything from newspapers to snacks and beverages, but he sadly shook his head.

"I'll have to call it quits someday. Even with my regulars, it's tough to scrape by." Her heart clenched at the dismal news as she grabbed a copy of The Vale Tribune, but he quickly moved on. "You keep close tabs on Vale. You from there?"

"Oh." She glanced at the front of the newspaper - the headline read 'Annual Harvest Festival Set to Begin' - before searching for a response. "Uh, yeah, actually. I used to live there, so I like to keep up with the news."

He nodded at the believable explanation, so she handed him the appropriate payment for the paper and left before they dove deeper into her cover story. She used to live there; she didn't anymore - that was the truth. Anything beyond that would be a lie fed to her just over a year ago.

By Vale P.D.

Well, by Vale Witness Security, which was a department of Vale P.D.

Her thoughts jumped back onto a hamster wheel as she tucked the newspaper under one elbow and hurried the last few blocks to her building.

Lying used to be a necessary evil - a way to hide her identity while she worked toward bigger, grander, better goals. Now…even the smallest lies ate away at her. She wanted to tell the newsstand owner, a kind man who had never been anything but welcoming, how she wished that she still lived in Vale just as much as she wanted to tell Sun that her name wasn't Claire and Hailey that her previous line of work was far less boring.

Her life used to be perfect. Her personal life, at least. Her professional life had taken various twists and turns that landed her here, with her heart in a near frenzy at the mere thought that one particular officer from Vale might currently be in Vacuo.

She should have asked.

Instead, she regretted not asking as she searched for her keys in the bottom of her bag. As soon as she found them and looked up, she paused. Sitting in the hall in front of her, one leg bent at the knee and the other sprawled across the floor, was one of the young boys who lived in the apartment next to hers. A backpack sat beside him, but he hardly glanced up as she approached.

"Uh, hey," she said, tentatively stepping over his leg. "It's…Justin, right?"

"Yeah."

He went right back to staring at the wall across from him, so she nearly left it at that. She didn't want to barge in on anyone's business, but he was just a kid…and finding him sitting in the hall wasn't a common occurrence.

"What're you doing out here?" she eventually asked.

"Forgot my key…" he mumbled, casting a forlorn look at the door.

"Oh."

Her fingers practically itched for a bobby pin when she looked at the door handle. She had some in her apartment - she could grab one and fix the situation in a heartbeat. But then he would ask questions, and she made a promise to herself that she would never use that skill again.

"Have you asked the manager to let you in?" she suggested.

"He's not here."

"Ah…then…do you want to come in and wait or something?" She gestured to her door, but he shook his head.

"My dad will be home soon."

After briefly wondering if it was acceptable to leave a kid in the hall alone, she unlocked her apartment.

"I'll, uh, be here if you need anything," she offered, pointing to the door and waiting for his nod before shutting it behind her. A prickle of guilt gnawed at her, but she pushed it aside and dropped her bag on the floor. Her shoes stayed there too, then she left the newspaper on her desk until she had changed into more comfortable clothing and brewed a fresh cup of tea.

Sometime in the midst of boiling the water, she heard voices in the hall and then in the apartment next door, absolving her of her lingering guilt. Picking the lock might not have helped, anyway. It could have scared the poor kid knowing that she could easily break into his apartment. Besides, what would Yang think?

The name filled her mind and airways like vapor, leaving no inch untouched. She sighed it out as she settled into her desk chair, set her mug aside, and flipped The Vale Tribune straight to the crime section. Her gaze flitted across the photos first then doubled back and scanned the headlines, searching for familiar names. Even though she found none, she read every article before sighing and setting the paper aside.

Months had passed since the last time she found fleeting mentions of what landed her here, yet disappointment still filtered through her veins as she pulled over her laptop. She turned to the internet next, following the same order of searches as she had every day for a year.

The White Fang.

Wilt and Shroud.

Adam Taurus.

Cinder Fall.

Yang Xiao Long.

The first four searches returned the same articles from months ago. Adam and Cinder were still at large; the White Fang had seemingly disappeared. She kept hoping for a break in the case - anything that might end her exile - but the populace had moved on from the White Fang, and the White Fang had likely gone underground. Their haul from Sapphire Bank would last quite a while and, knowing Adam, they were biding their time before returning in a new, bigger way.

Yang's name was hard to type and the lack of news more difficult to bear than any of the more sordid reflections on her past. Her heart always jumped seeing Yang's photo, taken years ago at a press conference, on the first page. Long, wavy blonde hair. Soft, intelligent lilac eyes. A thoughtful expression gracing her lips as she gripped the podium in front of her. Blake could just barely make out the black, metal fingers on Yang's right side, the rest of the prosthetic successfully hidden from view. Yang would appreciate that little fact even though the arm never detracted from her natural beauty.

On good days, or when Blake was feeling particularly homesick, she might expand her search to Ruby, Ilia, or even Weiss, whose life was almost absurdly interesting. Today, she clicked the first link that came up with Yang's name: an announcement made many months ago by the Vale Police Department.

'Detective Demoted After Sapphire Bank Heist Goes Wrong - White Fang Leaders Escape.'

Blake let the sea of guilt and remorse claim her as she read the article for the hundredth time. It spared the public the details of why Yang was demoted, resorting to some police jargon and hand-waving to imply that she should have caught the White Fang, didn't, and was therefore demoted. Blake wasn't even mentioned.

Clicking away from the article, she searched for the other photographs scattered online. A few more press conferences, a couple of crime scenes, a graduation photo - all of them perfect in their own way, like little pieces of history that she treasured more than anything else in her tiny apartment.

Vale P.D. was in Vacuo.

Her heart fluttered, but she immediately clamped down on the butterflies and shook her head. Just because Vale and Vacuo's departments were running joint exercises didn't mean that Yang was here. Hundreds of officers would have been eligible. The likelihood of Yang being included was slim to none.

But what if Yang was here, in Vacuo, right now? What if she was just a few streets away, maybe only a few blocks? What if they had already passed each other on the street but hadn't known it?

Blake drew her feet up onto the chair, wrapped her arms around her knees, and shivered.

She should have asked Sun who was here, but that would draw suspicion. Sun might tell Yang that some girl named Claire had asked about her. Yang would either say that she didn't know a Claire or she would put the pieces together and…still say that she didn't know a Claire. Either would hurt, but Blake still wanted - no, needed - to know.

She did know where they were 'celebrating' tomorrow…

Sighing out loud, she closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. She wished that she could say this was the first time Yang occupied her mind in the past few months, but this happened every time life slowed down. On the good days, she remembered the happiness they so briefly shared. Homemade dinners at Yang's apartment. Holding hands. Visiting the art museum. Cuddling on the sofa watching movies. On the bad days, she remembered the permanent pit in her stomach. The gnawing guilt. The betrayal in Yang's eyes when the truth came out.

Those memories were still as sharp as the day they happened because, unlike her, they couldn't be so easily erased, confiscated, or banished to the far reaches of Remnant. They were all she had left of that period in her life, but at least she shared them with someone - Yang.

Yang would remember as clearly as Blake did.

And Yang might be in Vacuo.