CHAPTER TITLE SUBJECT TO CHANGE. It's so far past my bed time. Pft.
EDIT POST-AUDIO COMPLETION: She did not, in fact, change the title.
Anyway, hope you all enjoyed the audio of the last chapter, and that you'll enjoy this one, too!
Huge thanks goes to my wonderful gf for her onions and grapes, she keeps my writing from being too stupid. Although I always enjoy feedback!
Happy reading!
Professor Sycamore's classes were some of the more difficult ones for Yang to pay attention to. There wasn't so much action happening in them, compared to Professor Peach's survival training or Goodwitch's combat lessons. Sycamore was a chill guy and all, and Yang had nothing against him, but his subject matters revolved a lot more around the social and political aspects of being hunters.
And Yang knew those were important, too, obviously, because grimm attacked people, and hunters needed to be efficient with crowd control or knowing how to deal with certain important individuals, especially if civilian guard forces or the military weren't on site yet, but…
Well. Sitting still for the better part of an hour had never been Yang's forte. Especially at the end of the day like this.
Had the benches always been so hard and flat? Yang shifted her butt. Again.
Oftentimes, Professor Sycamore at least had the students participate in simulated scenarios to practice their performances, and those tended to be entertaining in some way or another, but not today. Today, Professor Sycamore had decided he was talking a lot – and, sure, he had vids and pics to show as examples and explanations, but Yang's leg was jittering and she kept stopping in the middle of her notes to tap her pencil on her paper or roll the eraser on her lips.
Blake's presence in the seat next to Yang wasn't helping, either.
It wasn't like she was doing anything. Not anything different, anyway. Every time Yang glanced at her, Blake's right hand was either calmly writing on the lines or doodling in the margins while she leaned her chin on her left fist to keep her eyes up front, sometimes looking down, the perfect picture of interested disinterest.
It was all Yang could do not to dig her fingers into her scalp and groan out loud.
'He saw the way I looked at you, Yang.'
Yang hadn't known.
Couldn't have ever possibly guessed.
Blake was like a pond. Like the undisturbed surface –
'Mkay, brain, that's just dumb.
For the past two days, Yang's mind had been caught revisiting the past, analyzing every single interaction she could remember ever having with Blake under a microscope, trying to figure out if there was any way she could've clued in on her own.
But nothing seemed obvious. Nothing even seemed to hint at it.
And even then, Yang was a little upset – upset at being blindsided, upset that even after all the conversations and apologies and promises they'd had, even after already having lived one of the worst things they could've possibly lived, Blake had hidden away the additional perspective. One terribly important detail, something that had made the difference between Yang just having a couple unpleasant memories and phantom pain from a limb she didn't have anymore.
And it wasn't like it changed Yang's choice, because it didn't – she would've still rushed in to save Blake, maybe even more-so knowing just how much Blake cared – but the context could have at least helped Yang find some peace with why Blake had just abandoned her afterwards.
Because that was what had hurt the most. Even more than losing her arm.
And Blake knew that.
Yang huffed a little, staring on ahead, seeing that Professor Sycamore was showing footage of a grimm attack that had happened somewhere in Mistral a while ago. She didn't hear the question he had asked the class.
Movement from the corner of her eye then caught her attention. Blake had started reaching her hand towards Yang's, as if to still her, but froze. It had the same effect anyway, Yang stopped tapping her pencil on her notebook upon noticing, and when Blake saw Yang looking, the faunus clenched her fist and pulled away with the slightest shake of her head. Blake then cast her gaze downwards at her papers – and even from the side like this, Yang saw the resignation in the crease of her brow.
"What else do we notice about how this huntsmen team is coordinating?"
Yang kept her gaze on her partner for a moment longer before her attention switched over to Weiss when her hand went up, and Sycamore nodded at her for her answer. "They're working by each other's strengths and weaknesses, keeping the heavy hitters focused on the Grimm while the huntsman with the wind-based semblance is blocking off a perimeter wherever he can around the danger zone."
"Very good, Miss Schnee." Sycamore surveyed the class. "And is there anything you think they could have done better, or even just differently, while they waited for the civilian guard forces to arrive?"
They could have waited for each other. They could have stuck together, like partners are supposed to.
Like you'd think they would if one of them was freakin' in love with the other.
But that probably wasn't the answer Professor Sycamore was looking for. Some other student answered instead, saying something about how the wind could have been used to keep the flying grimm landed, and Yang felt herself zoning out again.
Replaying that moment. Blake on the broken floor, blood all over her waist, staring at Yang with such terror, and standing above her with his red sword in hand…
Class was over ten minutes later.
As students started collecting their things, Sycamore added from his desk, "And don't forget, the end of the year is in less than two months, you should all be getting your sixty hours of shadowing done before then."
Yang dropped her pencil trying to finagle it into her case. She clenched her metal fist reflexively out of frustration and started leaning down, but then Blake was already there, quickly swiping the pencil off the floor and showing it to Yang.
Their eyes met again. Yang couldn't hold the stare, instead taking her pencil back with a small, "Thanks, Blake." She got it into her case that time.
"You're welcome. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay," Yang sighed, getting her bag and starting to leave the bench. But are you?
Blake just followed behind her. Quiet. Never insisting.
How did she do that? If it were Yang, she would have been dying for answers, dying for something. Like she was already. There was never a good time to talk. Since they'd come back from the beach, they were never alone or there were more important things to do. And Blake just seemed so unaffected, not really treating Yang any differently – or maybe she was quieter than usual? More closed off somehow?
But maybe that was just a result of being used to, resigned to, the situation already.
Or maybe Yang was imagining things.
But there was something in her stomach that felt tighter, heavier, than normal. Just a little. Something not quite right, like creaking in load-bearing pillars.
Although…that wasn't really Blake's problem to deal with. Yang's insecurity was her own to secure, after all.
If only she knew how.
They met up with Ruby and Weiss in the hallway.
"I think we're gonna have to schedule our city guard or military shadowing hours tomorrow," Ruby was saying, "'cause between that and the left over fifty hours of hunter shadowing we have and all the other stuff, we're gonna run out of time."
Weiss suddenly cleared her throat loud enough to get everyone's attention and waited until three pairs of eyes were on her before staring right at Yang and exclaiming way too enthusiastically, "We should go to the beach!" and then looked at Ruby with, "Yeah, great idea!" and she even added in a much less energetic way, eyes now on Blake, "We might as well go, Weiss."
"Okay, okay, yes, ha-ha, you were the voice of reason, as usual," Yang retorted in a growling breath, but Ruby just giggled and said almost at the same time, "Those were pretty great impressions, not gonna lie."
And Blake? Well, Yang saw her just arch her eyebrows and shrug. "I did some work while we were there. Meanwhile, weren't you asking me to join volleyball?"
"Fine, we'll deal with our schedules tomorrow," Weiss huffed.
"Right after classes!" Ruby added, insistent. "We can meet in the study hall."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Blake agreed. "I'll bring a holotab and take care of organizing it for us."
"Thanks Blake! Much appreciate. And you guys don't go making other plans." Ruby gave all three girls a completely non-threatening warning stare before grinning. "Anyway, I'm gonna go running, see you guys later!"
She immediately headed off.
Yang shook her head with an affectionate smile. Ruby always had so much energy, always on the go, but she was taking her responsibility as RWBY's leader much more seriously this year, and it made Yang proud. It was also funny just watching her use her boss voice like it had any kind of impact on people who were her friends and family. Yang turned her grin over at Weiss. "I suppose we should be going to your butt-whoopin' session, too, huh?"
"Oh, we're sticking with it now? I'd like to see your individual grades compared to mine just for fun, you oaf."
But before Yang could shoot back at Weiss, Blake interrupted softly with, "Hey, Yang?"
Yang turned her head, just in time to see Blake give her own extended hand a frown like she'd been about to touch Yang's shoulder, before she quickly lowered it back to her side. Their gazes met. Blake took a breath. "I'm going to go running with Ruby, okay?"
Yang searched her expression, looking for any signs of…anything, but other than that brief moment of…frustration? Hurt? Blake just seemed normal. Her regular, discreet self. Yang nodded. "Yeah, okay, Blake. Have fun."
"Thanks." Blake walked off in the direction Ruby had gone, not once looking back. Yang watched her go, shifted her weight to her other foot uneasily. That thing in her stomach wasn't feeling so great. She turned back towards Weiss.
Weiss – who had also watched Blake leave, but with this strange look on her face, some mix of critical sympathy. Yang creased her eyebrows, realization dawning on her. "You…know?"
"I take it she told you. It got clear to me at the beach. Before that I just had questions."
Yang groaned, throwing her free hand up in disbelief. "What do you mean, you just had questions? How did you even have those? I don't unders –" She stopped, eyes widening, and looked back at the direction Blake had left, sheepishly rubbing the spot on her shoulder Blake would have touched, if she'd followed through. "Oh…"
She met Weiss' unimpressed, almost vaguely amused stare.
"Just realized she wasn't so subtle about it, hm?" Weiss started walking in the opposite direction Blake had gone, forcing Yang to snap out of it and get a move on, too.
After catching up, Yang winced and drooped her shoulders a bit. "She…she doesn't touch you at all, does she?" And looks like she won't be touching me anymore, either.
"I haven't seen her initiate physical contact with anyone except you. Not even with Ruby, who hugs her regularly."
It's official. There's just a rock in my head.
Because now Yang remembered. Now that she knew what she was looking for. How often Blake touched her shoulder, her arm, her hand. The familiar nudges when Yang made dumb jokes. And how differently she accepted Yang's hugs – the tenderness in her embrace compared to Ruby's fierce tackles or Pyrrha's quick squeezes. Yang had assumed it was just the way Blake was, careful with everything and everyone, but…
But Yang had seen Ruby hug Blake, and Blake always seemed so surprised, barely having the time to give Ruby an awkward pat on the back before Ruby was off again. They'd laughed about it more than once.
But there were no awkward pats for Yang.
No, Blake's hands would easily come around Yang's waist, settle on her middle or upper back gently, sometimes squeezing just as gently while resting her chin on Yang's shoulder. And if Yang squeezed harder, Blake just seemed to hold Yang closer, not at all bothered if Yang was being over-the-top about it.
Would she even let me hug her, now?
That worried Yang. Because Yang liked hugs, liked giving them, liked to think she gave the best ones. And Blake seemed like she needed them the most.
…But if Yang was honest, she really needed them, herself, too. From Blake, specifically.
Except Yang was an expert at putting her foot in her mouth, so she was automatically at a disadvantage against this dilemma.
"She communicates a lot more with you, too," Weiss remarked, pulling Yang out of her head. They were reaching the locker rooms already; Yang couldn't even remember the short trip there. Weiss must have allowed Yang time to think. As she pushed open the door, the heiress continued, "And, I know – you're partners, you're friends, you've been through a lot – of course you'd talk more together than with us, but she didn't have to tell you where she was going earlier. She certainly doesn't make sure Ruby or I know where she is all the time."
It seemed like such a mundane, insignificant thing. But to Yang, the revelation was a punch to the gut. It was almost enough to make her outright stop in the doorway. She took a breath, felt something in her chest clench.
What?
…But it was true. Yang always knew where Blake was. Even if Yang didn't ask. Blake made sure Yang didn't have to wonder about it.
Ever again.
And Yang had just been taking it for granted, hadn't fully realized the extent of consistent effort Blake had been making to upkeep the repairs to their friendship they'd done. Yang roughly passed her free hand through her hair, held her books closer to her body as she walked past Weiss, who was waiting with the door held open with arched eyebrows. "Ughh, Weiss, what do I do?"
"How should I know? It didn't even sound like there was something to be done. Your condition is terminal."
"Wow, thanks, I guess I'll die." Yang scoffed, frowned, and then just shook her head with a smile. She found her locker, put her books in it while Weiss did the same in the one next to the blonde.
"I'll deliver the sad news to the others. My condolences, Yang died of stupidity."
Yang gave Weiss a smirk, because that would probably actually be written on her gravestone one day, but while grabbing her change of clothes she shot back, "I might be stupid, but you still can't beat me in a fight."
"You sound exactly like a muscle-head with rocks for brains."
"Hey, I must be a little smart because Blake Belladonna fell in love with me."
Weiss couldn't have looked more unimpressed. "Maybe figure that situation out before bragging about it."
Yang could only laugh nervously.
"Yaaaaang, wake uuup!"
Yang groaned and grabbed her pillow to put it on top of her face. She was still tired. It couldn't possibly be morning already. Also, that was the wrong voice.
"C'mon, sleepyhead. Wakey-wakey before I take your pillow and hit you with it."
Yang groaned louder, held the pillow tighter, this time turning to face the wall – and hopefully turning her back to her sister. Could it not be the weekend already?
"Well, can't say I didn't warn you!"
Yang felt the bed shift, and she immediately sat up, eyes wide. And wild. She set her stare on her sister. "Don't you dare."
Ruby giggled and lowered her own pillow mid-attack before hopping back down to the floor. "Boring. Anyway, get outta bed. You're gonna be late."
Yang squinted at her scroll, checking the time, and then squinted around the room before squinting harder at Ruby. "Where's Blake?" And why isn't she the one waking me up?
It was the third time now.
Not that Yang…needed Blake to be the one doing that. But…it just wasn't usually Ruby. And not usually this late. Yang heaved a sigh and got down from her bunk to start getting ready, giving up on allocating time she didn't have to doing her morning exercises. It made her grumpy, starting her day off wrong again.
"She's at the cafeteria with Weiss. Asked me to get you up."
"Well…alright then. I'm up. Thanks."
Still, as Yang yawned and took her metal limb from its box so that she could attach it to the connector on her right bicep, that nagging uncertainty crept back into her stomach like a piece of lead.
This wasn't Yang's imagination. It couldn't be. One time could've been because Blake, herself, had woken up late or whatever – Yang hadn't questioned it. Two times was a little sus but still within excusable sense. But three times in a row? There was no other reason for Blake to suddenly get Ruby to wake Yang when Blake had been the one doing it for the past few months, consistently ensuring Yang could do her rehabilitation exercises while Blake did her own morning warmup.
Blake really was creating distance between them.
And Yang… Yang knew what anxiety felt like.
"Did ya sleep well at least?" Ruby wondered, pausing on her way towards the door.
"It was fine," Yang shrugged. "You woke up not too long ago too, right?"
"Yeah, just finished prepping for the day. You looked peaceful, wanted to let you get as much rest as possible."
Yang couldn't blame Ruby for that. It was just Ruby looking out, thinking she was doing Yang a bigger favor by letting her sleep. Blake seemed to be the only one who knew – or, at least, who went the extra mile – to get Yang's butt out of bed early when the blonde's alarms failed her (more like, when she failed her alarms). And Ruby wouldn't have caught on to anything being different for a reason – which Yang also didn't blame her sister for. She had always made sure to keep Ruby from worrying about her as much as possible.
"Thanks, Ruby," Yang offered with a reassuring smile, and gave her sister a pat on the head before continuing on her way towards the bathroom. "Good Ruby."
"Okay, unnecessary. Do I look Zwei to you?"
Yang let out a laugh and glanced back. "Not at all, Zwei's cuter."
"Hey!"
Yang giggled. "Get outta here, silly. Go join Weiss and Blake, I'll be with you guys as fast as I can."
"But never as fast as meeeeee. Get crackin', we still have some homework to finish!"
And then, out of having too much energy this early in the morning, Ruby slammed the door on her rush out. Yang's muscles seized, heartrate accelerating. She lost her smile, clenched her fists and shook them out, took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled. Did it again. She stretched her arms above her head, filling her lungs with air a third time, and then lowered down, folding in two to touch her toes – a brief exercise to somehow take the razor edge off this growing feeling that made it just a little harder to breathe.
It did help calm Yang a little.
Blake had shown her that trick.
Isn't this the only outcome that makes sense?
I don't want to lose my friend.
It wasn't like Yang was uncomfortable with anything Blake had ever done. Blake was the closest person Yang had ever been to, save for Ruby. But they were completely different dynamics. Yang did let Blake in sometimes (sometimes), did confide in her when push came to shove, two things Yang would never burden Ruby with. It had taken them a while to get back into the rhythm of things, but Blake was an amazing listener and never made Yang feel judged or rejected.
Which. Hello. Duh.
But that was until now. Because this did feel like a rejection of friendship to Yang, even if she knew that wasn't really what it was. But cold logic wouldn't reassure irrational feelings. And if Yang was hurt, she could only imagine how awful it must have been for Blake.
She went into the bathroom, passed her normal hand through her hair. Caught her reflection in the mirror. Guess it's a ponytail day.
She looked away before her eyes could lower further and started getting ready.
"You've been separated from your team out in the wilderness while escorting a convoy because of a grimm attack. Communications are down, members of the convoy have been hurt. What is your best course of action? A, abandon the convoy in search of help. B, stay with the convoy and wait for your teammates to find you. C, tell the convoy it's everyone for themselves –"
From beside Weiss, Ruby almost choked on her food in the middle of an impulsive cackle. Eyes watering but grinning at the same time, she said, "It's definitely that one. Cause chaos on your way out. Be a problem."
Yang cracked a smile. "Can you imagine?"
"Yeah, that's why I'm laughing."
"…or D, continue with the convoy to reach its destination as fast as possible to save the wounded, leaving your team behind."
Yang lost her smile. She shared a sheepish look with Ruby before deciding to close her textbook and set it off to the side on the table. In another life, they may have made more jokes.
Now…
Well. Not so much.
"This is always the problem with theory versus practice," came Blake's voice as she arrived at their table. She set Yang's breakfast platter in front of her and took a seat next to the blonde with her own food, adding with a sigh, "In our heads we know the answers, in reality the answers mess with our heads."
She must have heard their conversation from afar. Yang took a quick look at the band on Blake's head, marveled for the umpteenth time at how easily the faunus hid her cat ears with a bow or a wide headband or a scarf or even a ribbon sometimes.
She still couldn't imagine that it was very comfortable for Blake.
"It's so arbitrary," Weiss agreed, shaking her head. "Those situations are never that black and white. Professor Sycamore just wants to know what we think."
Yang reached for the apple on her platter and was about to take it, but then realization hit her like a truck and she stopped. Stared at her breakfast. At the vegetable and egg wrap, with the sauce on the side instead of in the wrap. The extra pieces of avocado and a handful of almonds. Not a single thing the way she didn't prefer it, even if Yang would've never complained about it either way.
"You alright there, Yang?" Ruby asked with an amused smirk. "You just kinda spaced for a sec."
Yang saw Blake look over. Impassive, except for that brief flash of concern that lit up her gaze when she glanced from Yang's food platter to Yang. "Is something wrong? I can go back –"
"No, no – I, uh, no, it's great." Wincing, she grabbed her apple and took a bite, adding more quietly, "Thanks, Blake."
"…Okay."
Blake turned away. Idly picked at her own food.
Yang flicked her eyes up, met Weiss' arched-eyebrowed stare, and quickly brought the subject back around before anything could be questioned further. "Anyway, so what should we answer? Do we just put it to a vote?"
"Unfortunately, I do think the answer here is D," Weiss said while beginning to write on her paper again. Yang was glad she hadn't insisted.
"Yeah…" Ruby creased her eyebrows into a bit of a frown. "We're supposed to protect our charge and get them to safety no matter what."
"…Yeah." While Weiss finished writing and began reading the next question, Yang found herself zoning out again as she chewed on the last few bites of her apple, caught in processing yet another important piece of the puzzle.
Not that there even was a puzzle. Or, rather, no – yes – there was a puzzle and it was complete and it was glued on the wall in front of Yang's face and Yang was seeing it for the first time like an idiot.
This wasn't the first time Blake got Yang's food for her. No, Blake had been doing this for…well, several months now.
And Yang had thought nothing of it. It wasn't like Blake had made a huge thing out of it, either. It wasn't like it was even a big thing at all. Yang had just been thankful, thought it was nice of Blake to do that for her every now and then, especially because over time, Blake had gotten better and better at getting exactly what Yang wanted with various meals. And then it'd become…just part of the everyday routine, even if Yang tried to still remind Blake she didn't have to keep doing that.
"It's alright. I get my own meal at the same time, anyway."
That was always Blake's reply. Or some variation of it.
But now, context made an entire world of difference. Because maybe a friend would do something like that occasionally. Yang had done it for Blake sometimes, after all – picked up the faunus' favorite drink or snack while getting her own. But it had rarely just been for Blake alone. Yang would usually get Ruby's and even Weiss' at the same time, too. And it wasn't like Blake didn't do that for the others sometimes, either – because she did – but Yang was the only one Blake regularly brought entire meals for, picked exactly the way Yang liked.
The back of Yang's neck felt hot with guilt all of a sudden, that she hadn't noticed the extent of this mark of care sooner.
But there was something else. Something that made Yang feel warm in a different way, somewhere in her chest, and her leg started jittering under the table with nervous energy needing an outlet.
"What do you think, Yang?"
Yang blinked up at Ruby, trying to recall what her brain had only been partially listening to. She creased her eyebrows. "Uh. Civilians? Civilians."
Ruby's eyes widened and she slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle a snicker.
"You didn't hear the question, did you?" Weiss asked with an eyeroll.
"I was thinking…very hard…about our work." But upon noticing that nobody was buying it, Yang chuckled and gave up. It was a real weak attempt anyway. "Okay, what was the question again?"
"It was 'In case of a terrorist attack, who should be taken care of first? The terrorists, the grimm, or the civilians?'"
Yang was suddenly caught between squinting and fighting the monumental urge to glance at Blake. She clenched her left hand over her jittering leg, trying to still it herself, wondering if this question was new since the attack on Beacon. "Okay, listen, to be fair, that's a trick question if I ever heard one. 'Taken care of' could mean different things."
"But if you'd listened to the context," Blake started, "then you'd know to say 'grimm.'"
And Yang did look at her that time. Checking. She hadn't sounded accusatory. She didn't look accusatory, either. No, Blake was impossible to read, her face a blank mask of calm. Maybe the situation described in the context was different than what they'd lived.
But Blake turned away from Yang before the blonde could reply and stood up. "Sorry, but I'll meet you guys in class." And then she grabbed her mostly untouched food platter and walked off.
Yang saw Weiss and Ruby exchange confused looks, and when they switched their attention to Yang like she would know what that was about, Yang could only weakly shrug. She took her wrap and dipped it in the sauce on the side and had a bite. She suddenly didn't feel very hungry, either, even if the food was good. But Blake had made the effort to get all of this for her – the least she could do was eat it.
Maybe if the situation wasn't so…complicated, Yang would have gone off after Blake to make sure she was okay. But as much as Yang felt torn over watching the gap between them deepen, she didn't want to cause Blake more heartache by forcing her to deal with Yang trying to comfort her.
Yang still found her gaze shifting to catch Blake leave the cafeteria through the double doors. Her stomach tied itself in knots.
What if I still want to be close to you?
"Hey, can I ask you guys something?"
"You can always ask us anything, Yang," Pyrrha said with a smile, putting her shoes into her locker.
Yang crossed her arms and leaned her shoulder on the one next to Pyrrha's. "So, you know how Jaune was really dense about figuring out you liked him?"
From the bench, Jaune immediately groaned and slapped his forehead while motioning at Pyrrha's…everything. "But did you see her? And I was supposed to think this – this maiden could maybe give me the time of day?"
Pyrrha laughed and affectionately swept her fingers through her boyfriend's hair, which caused him to redden and smile. She set a more serious look on Yang, though, saying with an amused sigh, "Yes, I do know how that went. Can't believe it took a kiss in the middle of a tragedy. Why are you bringing that up?"
Yang stared down at the floor. "Well, uh…" She looked up at the ceiling and then set her gaze on Jaune. "So, if you didn't know she liked you, was it weird after to try and decide if you wanted to be with her?"
Jaune creased his eyebrows and continued tying the laces on his shoes as he thought. "I…don't think it was weird, no…"
"To be fair, we were all dealing with the aftermath of the attack on Beacon," Pyrrha provided helpfully.
Jaune nodded, still looking intent. "Yeah, it wasn't like there had been time or even an opportunity for a while for us to talk about it." He paused, shared a look with Pyrrha, and added, "I don't think there even ever really was a conversation. We just…"
"…fell into each other," Pyrrha finished with a tender smile towards Jaune.
Yang was suddenly torn between laughing, teasing, and gagging. Somehow, she managed all three. "Wow, ew, you're so cute it's gross. Where's the toilet?"
"Hey, you asked us," Jaune rebutted with a chuckle, hands on his knees as he stood up from the bench.
Yang rolled her eyes, but she grinned. "Give me more details! But not too many details."
"What is it you're asking, exactly, Yang?" Pyrrha wondered.
This was so hard. Yang had never been great with finding the right way to express herself through words. And, really, she wasn't even entirely sure what she was trying to gain out of this conversation. Perspective, maybe? A solution? She shrugged, frowning, and tried, "Well, did you like her back already, Jaune? How did you…I don't know. How could you just fall into each other?"
"Well, I mean, I definitely had a lot of respect and admiration for her, but I don't think I'd, like, allowed myself to feel more because I didn't think she felt more." Jaune took Pyrrha's hand and gave it a squeeze. "But then we kept being there for each other and knowing that she loved me just made it easy, I guess. But it wasn't ever like a conscious decision. It kinda just happened over time."
Pyrrha leaned towards Jaune and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. "Worth the wait."
Yang groaned. "Ughhh, you're disgusting." She still smiled, though, and shook her head as she went to her own locker to get her textbooks out of it. "Anyway, I gotta go. Ruby's gonna flip if I start missing shadowing hours." And I can't force Blake to wait for me. Yang started heading out of the locker room, tossing over her shoulder, "Thanks for the chat. Now get a room."
"You're welcome!"
That was Pyrrha. Always so polite. Yang grinned and shook her head again as the door closed behind her.
Upon entering the dorm room, Yang saw Blake just finishing with the buttons going up the side of her black vest. Something atop the faunus' head leaned backwards. She hadn't covered her cat ears yet. Blake only gave Yang a glance as she smoothed out her top, and then went to put her other pair of clothes in the laundry basket near the bathroom. "Glad you're here. I thought I'd have to leave without you."
Yang shut the door and averted her gaze from Blake's head. As cute as the cat ears were, Yang knew Blake didn't like the staring. "Sorry. I needed to talk with Pyrrha and Jaune for a sec. I'll hurry up." She immediately went to their shared walk-in closet in search of the outfit she wanted to wear while following another huntsmen duo around in the woods. Some cargo pants and a jacket over a tank top seemed fitting enough. She shimmied out of her uniform as fast as she could.
When Yang remerged from the walk-in, Blake was sitting on the corner of Weiss' desk, waiting for Yang. Quiet. Impassive. She'd already put on a wide, dark purple band over her head, once more concealing her cat ears.
"I'm almost ready. Just need, uh…" Yang's voice trailed off as she checked the two drawers that belonged to her. She needed her motorbike keys. She and Blake would take an airship down to Vale, and then head out to the outskirts of town to meet with the two huntsmen. Normally, they'd have just taken a taxi if they were going anywhere in town, but this was different, and a taxi was inconvenient for patrols.
"Did you leave your clothes lying on the floor in there again?" Blake wondered, but she did sound vaguely amused.
"Maaaaybe."
Yang was about to go pick up after herself, but then Blake stood from Weiss' desk and said, "I got it. Keep looking for whatever it is you're looking for."
Yang chuckled sheepishly. "Thanks, Blake. And I'm looking for Bumblebee's keys." But searching through the knickknacks and junk in her drawers did not produce the keys with the bee keychain on them. She sighed, frustrated, because at this rate they'd either miss the airship or be forced to deal with a taxi anyway. And it'd be her fault for being so disorganized.
She started checking her pockets before going digging in her backpack, looking in every little storage compartment she could find. Still no keys.
Yang turned and was about to announce the bad news to Blake, but instead she saw Blake standing over by the door, a small black and yellow insect made of metal dangling from her fingers. "You mean these?"
"Oh my gods," Yang groaned and came over to the grab the keys from Blake's hand. Their fingers brushed, but they both quickly pulled away. "Where were they? How'd you find them?"
"You left them in your pocket from last time. They fell out when I was putting our clothes in the washer, so I put them on the keyholder." Blake's eyes glanced at the said holder on the wall by the door, directly next to them. The one very obvious place Yang hadn't even thought to check.
Yang set her gaze back on Blake. Blinking. This was the moment she'd sweep Blake into an appreciative hug – because Yang was literally useless without Blake these days, apparently. But she paused before she even leaned forward.
Had it really come to this? Yang hadn't even realized how much she'd begun relying on Blake to be a functional adult. There were so many – so many – things that Yang had struggled with back home on Patch during the first several months without her right arm. The prosthetic was a gift she'd received a bit later on, but everything from doing chores to tinkering in the garage had become an incredibly frustrating, depressing, and sometimes impossible challenge as she learned to use only her left hand for the smallest tasks.
And a lot of good habits she'd had slipped away because, for a while, she'd given up on trying. Her dad had still been around to pick up some of the slack, and Ruby was home sometimes, too, but Yang didn't like her dad helping and Ruby wasn't used to being the adult in the house. And, as Blake liked to gently tease her about, Yang had a little worm in her brain wiggling around, so being organized wasn't Yang's strong suite in the first place.
So, yeah, she was forgetful sometimes. A lot of times.
But here was Blake, keeping Yang's life from being a total disaster, little gesture by little gesture without ever saying a word, without ever truly reproaching Yang a single one of her failures.
Man, it's hot in here.
Specifically, behind her eyes.
And Yang wasn't sure it was even okay to hug Blake anymore. "I –" She swallowed hard. Her hand went up, wanting to touch Blake's arm, but Blake followed the motion with her eyes, and there was pain there, so Yang clenched her fist and brought it back down to her side. "Thank you, Blake," Yang murmured, and she heard the roughness in her own voice. "You're really awesome."
Blake looked down. "Thanks." The muscles in her jaw worked, and then she said more firmly, "We should go. Do you have everything you need?"
Yang hesitated, hurt by how closed off Blake was being. She didn't want this. Neither of them did, that much Yang could tell. But it wasn't really fair to Blake to keep acting as if her feelings didn't long for more, as if she hadn't confessed to being in love with Yang just four days ago, was it?
But, what if…
What if I did actually let her love me? Could I love her back?
Yang took stock of her things, and then huffed a sigh and nodded. Her palms were uncomfortably clammy. "Yeah, I got everything. How about you?"
Blake opened the door and stood back to let Yang through first. "I do. Let's go."
"Okay."
When the week reached its end, Yang decided she couldn't go on like this anymore, questioning everything, holding back how she felt, dealing with these heavy silences that filled the space between her and Blake where there used to be easy chatter and companionship. She hated the awkwardness, how they tiptoed around each other, how there seemed to be so much left unsaid in every little thing Blake did say – so much concealed behind the forced lack of anything meaningful.
It messed with Yang's head, and Blake was on her mind every other hour of every day because everything reminded Yang of how integral Blake was to her life now that she wasn't. Not in the way she used to be, at least.
They needed to talk. Yang needed to talk.
They had to figure something out.
And when Yang asked Blake to go on a walk with her that evening after the last busy day of the week, Blake seemed to understand the reason why. She was hesitant, apprehensive, but she agreed. She followed Yang out without protesting.
They were quiet for a while. Walking side by side without talking, just enjoying the end-of-the-day fresh air and the quietness that came with fewer students being out at this time. It helped Yang's nerves, somewhat, but she still couldn't figure out how to start this conversation.
Maybe it was better to just chat about other things, see if there would be a more natural flow into it. But for once, Yang's brain wasn't going a mile a minute with thoughts and ideas shoving into each other, hoping to win the race for attention.
Convenient.
She stuffed her hands in her pockets.
"Are you going back to Patch with Ruby for the summer?" Blake eventually wondered, and the extending of that olive branch came as a huge relief to Yang.
She jumped on the opportunity to talk about something normal. "Yeah. Dad misses us. And I know Ruby will want to see her friends from Signal."
There was a brief pause. Then Yang saw Blake glance at her. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"What are you going to do? How do you feel?"
Yang shrugged. She hadn't been expecting Blake to dig further, to want to know about Yang, specifically. Which – she should have figured. "Uh, I dunno. I guess I'm looking forward to driving Bumblebee again. Seeing Zwei. Playing normal sports. Not having to sit forever and ever."
The comment made Blake laugh, quiet and short-lived – but it was a laugh nonetheless, and Yang grinned.
"Like you have ants in your pants," came the amused reply, and Blake bumped Yang's shoulder with her own.
Yang laughed then, too, but – there it was. Blake initiating physical affection. She hadn't noticed herself do it that time. But Yang noticed. Big time. The hands in her pockets suddenly felt heavy and like separate entities from her body. She didn't know what to do with them. Especially the stupid metal one. Was it even in her pocket? She glanced down. Yes, it was. Obviously. Obviously.
"Are you…okay?"
"Uh, yeah!" Yang tried a smile, knew she didn't sound convincing at all. This is your chance. Take it, ya dimwit. "Just, uh…" But no words came to mind, yet again. She ended up just motioning uselessly in the air, the weakest attempt ever to explain nothing sensical. And then she decided to just keep on with their previous subject before things got awkward. "I mean, I do miss my dad, kinda. But not when he's trying to make up for the past. He's gotten better about it, though." Not what I wanted to say. Blargh.
Blake was silent for a moment or two, as if thinking about Yang's…whatever that was. Then, she asked, "Is going back to Patch what you'd actually like to do? Or are you just going for Ruby's sake?"
"I…" Yang creased her eyebrows and stared down at her boots as they walked. How had Blake even pinpointed that? Yang hadn't so much as offered a hint about it. At least, she didn't think she had. Both girls slowed their pace, and Yang ended up just shrugging again. "I don't know. It's not like I really have anything else I'd rather do. Or that I'm not happy to stick with Ruby. Because I am happy to do that. So." There was a tightening in her chest, though, and Yang didn't want to start thinking about things, so she looked over at Blake and asked, "What about you? Are you…gonna go back to Menagerie again?"
It was Blake's turn to hesitate. But she sighed and said, "I thought about it. I'm still thinking about it. I spent so much time trying to deal with the White Fang over there last year, and the problem hasn't gone yet, but I have a friend taking care of things now. I'm not sure what I'd rather do – fight the White Fang in Menagerie or fight grimm here in the area around Vale."
"Do you…have to fight? What if you just…relaxed?" But Yang already knew the answer to that question. This was Blake, after all. Blake never stopped. As long as there was something left to do, Blake felt it was her obligation to do it.
And Blake proved Yang right by smiling sadly and saying, "I can't. Until I forgive myself, I can't."
"So, forgive yourself. Just do it."
Blake laughed again, but this time it was humorless. "I suppose it should just be that easy, shouldn't it? But…" and her gaze had wandered farther forward, fixing on something with regret.
Yang followed her line of site, already knowing what she'd find.
In the light of the setting sun, there stood a metal statue, a monument, a reminder of the attack on Beacon, right there in the middle of Beacon's reconstructed courtyard. It depicted four hunters – two human, two faunus – fighting side by side, back to back, expressions grim, clothes ripped and wounds marring their smooth features, but united together. Pyrrha was one of them, standing in a low and fierce battle stance, Akouo raised in front of her with Milo pulled back, ready to strike.
Blake and Yang approached it slowly. Neither saying a word. The slight breeze lifted strands of their hair before letting them fall again, tugged gently at their clothes. It wasn't Yang's first time seeing it, and she knew it wasn't Blake's, either. But, somehow, they'd never stood here in front of it together, just the two of them. And…
It hit differently like this.
Yang swallowed hard, and Blake's eyes immediately found hers as the blonde admitted quietly, "They asked me. If I wanted to be one of the hunters represented here." She kicked the cement ground idly.
"I…take it you said no."
"I didn't say anything. Never wrote back. I guess that's as good as a no." She looked back up at the representation of Pyrrha, chuckled a bit. "Pyrrha didn't really want to, either. She said she'd told them to ask the others on their list, that she'd accept if nobody else was willing." Yang shook her head. "'People feel hope when they see their heroes,' she'd said." She held out her hands, stared at the obvious differences between her flesh palm and her metal one. She clenched her fists, shook her head with another chuckle. "I don't remember being a hero."
There was a silence between them, the air stilling as if on cue, and then Blake's hand gently touched Yang's left bicep before retreating again. Yang raised her eyes, tried to meet Blake's gaze. She managed it, if only for a few seconds, but the sorrow and care she saw shimmering there was too much to keep holding.
"My name is on that plaque," Blake murmured, soft, filled with guilt, and Yang looked over at the flat copper surface adorning the base of the statue where over a hundred names were carved. "'Blake Belladonna.' As if I did any kind of good that day. As if I didn't, through Adam, lead the White Fang straight here. As if I didn't abandon you." And now she stood in front of Yang instead of beside her, drawing her gaze yet again. "What you did, who you are – you're a hero to me."
And, yet again, Yang had to break the eye-contact, stare down at her own feet. Had Blake always been this honest about how she felt? This…forward? Or maybe she wasn't being forward? Yang didn't know what this was anymore. "Blake…I think I do want to be with you."
Blake froze. Because, obviously – and Yang cringed at herself – Yang had blurted that out of nowhere. It didn't feel like nowhere, but it totally was. Blake ended up taking a step back. Set her gaze on Yang. Apprehensive. Searching. "I thought we already had this conversation."
"We said we'd talk."
Blake closed her eyes, just a few seconds, but Yang saw the twitch of her brow, the stiffness of her shoulders. She opened her eyes again, took a breath, and spoke carefully. "I don't…understand, Yang. You don't like women that way. I can't make you happy. Your insistence is confusing and hurtful."
Heat crept up the back of Yang's neck. She found her hand going to her nape to massage the tension there. "And I'm telling you, Blake, that I think maybe you can."
"What –"
"You've been pulling away from me this week," Yang powered on, still internally cringing, but she needed to say this. Her heart was pounding way too hard. "I'm not stupid. I see the choice you're making – the choice you're making for both of us, by the way. Maybe I'd like to be included in stuff that involves me."
Blake took another step back, as if Yang had given her a shove. She looked for all the world like maybe Yang actually had, eyes wide and hurt. "I – I'm sorry, Yang. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. But I have to figure out how to move on." There was a look that passed over her features, something entirely too heartbreaking with how much pain and guilt flashed there, but Blake didn't cry. She firmed her expression and finished in a murmur, "I just need some time."
"No, Blake –" Yang stopped, mind racing in trying to figure out what to say, how to make herself be heard. Blake's stubbornness was one of her greatest assets when it mattered, but right now it was definitely getting in the way of their communication.
Yang approached Blake and put her hands on the faunus' shoulders so Blake would look at her. "Blake. I'm not uncomfortable. I –" Yang swallowed hard and, in case it was making Blake uncomfortable, removed her hands from her partner's shoulders to stuff them in her pockets instead. "I don't know about other women, but I don't want this distance with you. I've just – I've been realizing how you show me your love, and not having that anymore is –" Yang interrupted herself again, because, "ugh, no, that makes me sound so selfish." She paced to the side, running her non-metal hand through her hair roughly. "I said it really dumbly at the beach, but I mean it this time. I'm literally trying to tell you that I want to try being with you and you're basically telling me that I don't."
Blake blinked. Looked very unsure for a moment by the tilt of her head, one hand moving as if to reach for Yang before deciding against it. She opened her mouth like she was going to say something as well but then closed it again. She took another breath. "You really want to be in a relationship. With me."
Yang creased her eyebrows and let out a short sigh before giving one, firm nod. "Yes. I do."
And Blake just stood there in silence still, eyes darting over Yang, searching intently. Yang almost feared she'd have to keep trying to convince Blake to believe her, didn't know how long she was willing to keep going in circles, but then the stiffness gradually faded from Blake's shoulders. The faunus nodded slowly, looking down at the ground while exhaling long and low. "Okay… Okay. Um." She met Yang's stare. "I… This is a lot. I wasn't prepared for… Anyway. Can I have some time to process?"
Huh? Prepared for what? "Yeah, sure. Just…please don't keep pulling away from me? It's okay, you know. The way you've been touching me and everything. It's not weird." And…it's special, when it's you.
Maybe she should say that out loud.
But those words got stuck in her throat.
Even without them, though, there – finally – there it was. Blake's small, crooked smile, one corner of her mouth tilting higher than the other. There was still uncertainty there, but she said with a slight shake of her head, "I'll keep it in mind."
Yang couldn't help but beam in response – because that sounded like an answer heading towards a positive outcome. And wanting to prove that she meant it, wanting to encourage Blake to be normal about it again – and even more than that, wanting the reassurance – Yang wrapped her arms around Blake and gave her a fierce hug.
Blake was stiff only for a second, taken by surprise. But then she exhaled and relaxed, her arms coming around Yang, too, under her arms, cradling Yang's back just like she always did, and Yang closed her eyes, holding Blake's svelte form tighter.
Gently, Yang felt Blake scratch her jacket on her shoulder blade. Nudge her nose against Yang's collar. Idle. Affectionate.
Was that Blake's heart beating so fast?
Yang didn't want to lose this. The way Blake showed her love so far brought Yang so much support and security, made her feel so cared about, all of it in such subtle but effective ways, and it made Yang a little curious to find out what more Blake had to offer – because she couldn't imagine the bottom of that pond was even close to being reached.
Yang wanted to learn. Wanted to explore. Wanted to try bringing Blake as much happiness as Blake brought Yang. Maybe it was naïve of her, maybe it was overly optimistic, maybe Blake was completely justified in being cautious, if not outright skeptical. But Yang wanted to try. For both of them.
For this warmth in her chest, for the racing heart in Blake's own.
She squeezed one more time and then carefully pulled away from the embrace. Met Blake's shining eyes with a mischievous smile. "Wake me up in the morning?"
Blake immediately scoffed and gave Yang's shoulder a light push, which caused Yang to devolve into giggles. "I see what this is about now," Blake tossed over her shoulder as she started walking away. "The audacity you have."
Yang laughed harder and quickly caught up with her partner. "Wait – it's not what you think."
This time, Blake actually joined Yang in her laughing. "Uh-huh. Dig deeper, let's hear it."
Yang tried her absolute darndest to keep a straight face, but she ended up making a noise through her nose with the effort it took to suppress her amusement. "It has to be at six sharp!" And then she cackled more.
Blake snickered right along with her. Fingers brushing Yang's sleeve. "Oh, Yang."
And Yang heard it in her tone that time. Unabashedly affectionate.
I love you.
Extremely different from the OG, right? Hope it isn't bad, though! Lemme know what you thought!