Yang could feel her frustration bubbling out from inside her as she let loose a wild haymaker, ignoring the way her center of balance had changed ever since she had woken up in the infirmary. There was a feeble attempt at a feint from Jaune, which she brushed aside before striking him, sliding him a few feet backwards.
"You're holding back," Yang snapped, twisting her body to kick him in the chest.
Jaune let out grunt as he blocked the (slightly slower than usual) kick, sending her a hook and a cross look back.
"I'm not nearly masochistic enough to be holding back against you, you know."
Yang didn't appreciate the deflection, grabbing Jaune by his collar and pulling in close.
"You're pulling your punches." She shoved him away. "Stop it."
"You know that was me trying to catch you off guard, right? It wasn't-"
"I know what a feint is, vomit boy. That's not what I'm talking about." Yang cursed a little as she tried for another kick, reaching a little lower than she wanted as she lost balance for a second. "I can see it in your eyes. You're scared you're gonna hurt me."
Jaune rolled his eyes before yelping, crashing on the floor as Yang swept his feet from under him, leaving him in a heap.
"Right. I'm holding back because you're a girl," Jaune groaned, "Because girls have never beaten me up without breaking a sweat before."
Yang smothered a flash of anger, leaning over and yanking him onto his feet.
Calm down.
"First of all, definitely sweating," Yang said, pointing at herself. Her tank top was practically see through after having been working out for the last hour or so with Jaune. "Second of all, not what I'm implying."
"What're you trying to say then?"
"Hm. I don't know." Yang waved her stump in the air, pretending to think. "I'm not sure. Maybe something about me's different, and that's affecting the way you're treating me. Oh!" Yang clicked her fingers, casting Jaune a pitying look, sarcasm oozing through. "I'm sorry, Jaune, I know that it can be hard trying to fight someone you're in love with, but it's only going to make my opinion of you worse."
Jaune flushed at that.
"Fine," Jaune relenting, shaking his head. "Sorry. I think this is just something that I'm going to have to try and get over for now."
Yang pursed her lips, pushing the comment aside as she tossed him a towel.
"Fine. Whatever," Yang turned around to try and hide her expression. "I think I'm done for the day. Need to clean myself up."
Not waiting for a response, the girl pushed her way into the girl's locker room, pulling off her workout clothes and blasting herself in a cold shower, hoping that it would cool the intense heat that seemed to be simmering inside of her for the past few days.
Headmistress Goodwitch had made sure that when Yang had been discharged yesterday that she was to be put on light duty for now, not wanting to risk aggravating her injuries.
That may have been good for her body, but without any heavy, exhausting work to try and keep her mind off of things, Yang found herself constantly trapped inside of her own mind, replaying the events during the Vytal Festival, wondering what she could've missed, what had happened that she could've changed, if there had been *any* way for her to do things differently.
Eventually Jaune found her trying to adapt to a one-armed lifestyle by wailing on a gym punching bag, letting loose as much steam as an inanimate object could take.
It didn't take much convincing for him to settle into a spar with her, but what Yang had hoped would've been a good distraction was just a stark reminder that she wasn't the same person she had been a week ago.
And now she was alone again, sinking slowly into this gross miasma, wasting valuable water doing so.
Yang slammed the shower knob a little too hard, detaching the handle clean from its resting position as the water was shut off. She stared at it for a second before chucking it onto the floor, the warm metal clinking against the tiled floor. Another shitty thing that's happened to her. Go figure.
Stepping out, Yang slipped on the wet floor, aura flashing as her bottom met the ground, more aggravating than painful as she tried to reach for the railing with an arm she didn't have anymore.
Controlling her anger was never a strong point in her life, and it showed here when she lashed out, kicking a locker bench so hard that it slammed into the nearby wall, a spray of cracked and broken tile following it.
More determined than ever, Yang dried herself off the best she could, ignoring the awful way her hair hung like seaweed around her form, and started to change into her everyday clothes, pulling on her underwear first. Putting the bra on one-handed was difficult but not impossible, and her shorts went on afterwards, and what should've been a half a second maneuver to button the shorts turned into a minute-long struggle as the button kept slipping away from her hand repeatedly, her frustration bubbling, and bubbling, and bubbling until she wanted to *scream*.
Yang couldn't remember the next few seconds, just knowing that by the end of it that she was sitting on the floor, breathing heavy and doing her best not to let her any of her other emotions get the best of her. She was alone and no one would see her, but she wasn't going to cry, damn it. She refused to let go of that last sliver of pride, no matter what.
It was the only thing she had left, after all.
"Yang?"
The voice was soft as the door to the girl's locker room opened, revealing a concerned and apprehensive Jaune. When there wasn't an answer, the blond padded his way towards her. Internally, she couldn't help but think of how much of a mess she probably looked right now, with her hair shrouding her face, clothes haphazardly thrown on.
"Tell me what's wrong, Yang." Jaune's voice was slightly shaky, which made Yang feel worse as she spun to face him, eyes practically glowing red from rage.
"What's wrong?" Yang hissed out, causing him to flinch. She stood up unsteadily, the wet tile making it difficult for her to stand up. "My sister is missing, presumed dead. Her partner was taken away by her dad. My partner was gone by the time I woke up and realized that my arm was gone. I can't. even. put. my. own. fucking. clothes. on," Yang closed her eyes, releasing a long, shaky exhale. "Because of all the fucking buttons on them." Yang opened her eyes, glaring at the wilting Jaune. "So how about you tell me what's going right, Jaune. Tell me what—what the fuck is going right on Remnant right now, because I'm drawing a fucking blank." Her voice whipped around the room, the crack at the end of the sentence only more audible because of it.
No. She wasn't going to cry.
She wasn't.
Hands slid around her shoulders as Jaune knelt down, pulling her into a hug, drawing her into him. There was an initial moment of resistance. Yang wasn't used to this kind of comfort. She was the older sister, the one who always had her head on her shoulders. If anything, she was the one that was supposed to be giving out comforting hugs, not the other way around.
Yang squeezed Jaune a little tighter, closing her eyes and letting go of her feelings. Maybe a tear or two leaked out, but she would never admit it.
Maybe it was what she needed though, the constant buzzing anger subsiding a little as she drew away.
"Thanks, vomit boy," Yang gave him a weak smile as they pulled apart, grateful for the hug.
"I know that you've been having it rough for a while now. But if you ever need to talk to anyone about anything, I'm here." Jaune said, a serious look in his eye. "And if I'm not around, Nora or Ren are. We're your friends Yang. We don't like seeing you suffer."
Sitting this close to Jaune, she spotted the dark rings around his eyes, a stark reminder that she wasn't the only one having sleepless nights.
Jaune noticed her staring, raising an eyebrow as she raised her hand, touching the bottom of his eye.
"Oh." Jaune said, realizing what she was looking at. "That's... Sleep's kind of hard to get right now. For everyone."
Yang couldn't help herself.
"You know, if you need anyone to talk to, I'm here." She said, parroting him. "Just because I'm not having a great time doesn't mean I can't listen."
Jaune chuckled.
"That's... fair."
The two of them lapsed into silence, both lost in their own thoughts.
Suddenly, Jaune spoke up.
"When you think back, what's the biggest thing that you could've done differently?"
The question caught Yang off guard, not sure where the question came from.
"Um. I guess if anything... then I probably would've treated the fight with Adam differently." Yang looked at her right arm. "Maybe I underestimated him. I should've played it a little safer. Knowing his semblance would've changed things too." Yang bit her lip. "I don't know if I would've been able to beat him," she confessed, shrugging one shoulder. "But maybe I could've lost a bit better, maybe? I don't know. It's hard to tell if anything would've changed."
Jaune nodded.
"You know what I could've done differently?"
"Stuck with Pyrrha?" Yang suggested. "Maybe trained a bit harder? I don't think there was much else you could've done, Jaune."
"I could've never faked my way into Beacon." The dark thought seemed to glaze his eyes over, like the sea when a storm passed through. "Then someone who actually deserved to be a Huntsman could've joined and been a better team leader. Defended his teammates when they were in trouble. And when all the chips were down, Pyrrha wouldn't have pushed him away. They could've fought together, and Pyrrha and Ruby-"
Yang punched him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.
"That—ouch." Jaune wheezed, rubbing his chest.
"Stop it." She pointed a finger at him. "You don't know if they could've been better or not. Maybe Pyrrha doesn't trust them either and still sends them away. Maybe they wouldn't have cared about the team as much as you. There's a thousand different ways it could've gone, and you don't know if not being there would've made it worse or better. So stop beating yourself up about that."
Jaune rubbed his chest, wincing.
"I really don't think you needed to punch me to get that across," Yang raised an eyebrow, not offering an apology. Jaune cracked a small grin at that. "Fair. But I guess that could be true. Maybe."
"No maybe's about it, Jaune. Face it, they would've probably been a turncoat and helped Cinder out when Pyrrha would've least expected it."
Jaune laughed at that. "I don't know about all of that. But you're right. Thanks."
The two of them smiled at each other.
"Alright, well, I'm tired of sitting around feeling sorry for myself. Let's get wasted." Yang stood up, offering her hand to Jaune, who took it uncertainly.
"What? Now?"
"Yes, now. You're not back on schedule until the day after tomorrow, right?" She waited for him to nod uncertainly. "Then let's go, get our mind off of things."
Jaune scratched the back of his head, considering his options before letting out a sigh.
"Alright," Jaune said, relenting. "Let's get wasted."
"Yes!" Yang said, pumping her fist. "One thing though."
"Hm?"
"Help me with these buttons?"
"...Right."
Cinder stared at the girl's sleeping form, huddled deep in the extra-large jacket.
A fire that she had started danced merrily at the edge of her vision, radiating warmth on this chilly night.
She was starting to remember again.
It wasn't much, just flashes of memories, moments where phantom pains would strike her, hateful words would float through the air. There wasn't much that her mind was really offering up, but it seemed like a lot of it was dark and depressing. It didn't take a genius to realize that Cinder hadn't had the happiest life. Maybe that's why she acted the way that she did. Aloof. Cold. As tense as a nocked bowstring, and about as ready to be let loose or snap.
Her life, Cinder decided, made her the way she was.
Maybe that wasn't as clear as a picture book to her right now, but enough clues were scattered about for her to know that people hadn't been very fond of her, and she hadn't been very fond of people.
A stepmother and two stepsisters, she could remember.
She remembered a mentor, maybe. A fight to the death over something she did. What was it she did?
A promise to herself, to never let herself be vulnerable again.
Shifting broke her focus as Ruby turned, whimpering a little. Sweat beaded across the younger girl's forehead, the face locked into a momentary tight grimace before slackening again into sleep.
Ruby... Rose, she thinks. That's her name. Not Pyrrha.
Pyrrha was the woman she killed.
She wasn't sure why, but that was important to her, in some way.
A combatant. Someone she was fighting?
It was obvious intially that the girl wasn't on friendly terms with her. Travelling together was a test of patience and paranoia for Cinder, every sudden move causing Ruby to tense up or flinch.
Was Cinder... a bad person?
Surely the little girl wasn't the bad guy, so it had to have been her. That made sense, logically, in her head, she supposed. The Cinder that she sort of knows now does seem like the type of person to be mean, and cruel.
Was that the type of person she was now?
Cinder moved the jacket, making sure that Ruby was comfortable.
This girl had helped her. All signs pointed to Cinder being her enemy, and yet she helped her. She didn't have to, Cinder knew. Maybe at first, when they were both hurt, lost, and confused... maybe then she would've understood. But after she lost her arm and was out for who knows how many days...
Ruby had proven to herself that she would've been fine on her own. It would've been easy to leave Cinder to the mercies of the wild, better even.
"Why did you save me?" Cinder had asked as they walked away from the smoking body of Grimm. Ruby, pale and shaking, eyes focused on the path ahead of them, gave a weak shrug with her unsupported shoulder.
"I'm not leaving someone to die."
And that was that.
Cinder closed her fist, summoning the fire that had been crackling in the back of her mind ever since she woke up. It was insistent, a constant like television static that made it hard to think sometimes.
A low whomph sounded as she threw the growing spark into the firepit, causing it to jostle and move, some of the carefully placed branches collapsing. Cinder cursed, moving to make sure the fire wouldn't spread past its boundaries.
With this power that Cinder felt flowing through her, survival would be much simpler. She could defend herself from any Grimm while continuing to move, warmth would be easy, and as long as she stuck to the growing stream, she could have multiple attempts at food.
At this time, it would be easier for her to strike out on her own.
Once again, she looked at Ruby, her stomach clenching a little as she saw that the younger girl was curled into a tight ball, tears dripping from the bridge of her nose.
Once again, the fuzzy crackling returned.
No, Cinder decided, shaking her head. Ruby was the only person she could remember that had been kind to her, selfless to the point of self-injury. Leaving her now was... ungrateful. And impractical, she thought. Three hands were better than one, Cinder thought with a chuckle. No, Cinder wouldn't let Ruby's sacrifice go to waste. She would protect her.
Pyrrha was the girl that she had killed, but Ruby would be the one that she would save.