Chapter Text
Jaune focuses on one of Billy's axes as it sticks end-up out of the ground., trying to tip it over. Seemingly simple, but he's been at this for two hours now without success. As he sits in the grass in front of the house, Jaune pulls on that certain something in the pit of his stomach, what he has come to recognize as his semblance -which he still isn't quite certain what in all it does. So far all he or Billy can ascertain is that it can push, maybe even repel objects, but they have yet to solidly confirm it. Thankfully his skill for fighting has noticeably improved over the last month, so he and Billy can focus more on this. It's just as taxing as swinging around and sword and bracing heavy blows with his shield, in some ways more so, but he almost prefers it.
Billy sits nearby, watching, waiting, mimicking his position. "You were able to do it yesterday." They shrug softly.
"Because you had me convinced you were going to split my face in half." he confesses neutrally, trying to maintain his attention on his task.
A little laugh. "True enough, but you need to learn to use it without the panic."
"I'm trying." though he's quietly grateful they had come to that conclusion, because he's had it up to here with getting tossed around to trigger his semblance.
"Did they not cover this in your schooling?"
"Didn't get to that part." he shrugs, focus broken by bubble of frustration.
"And your aunt? Wasn't she your teacher?"
"Aunt Glynda is more like you," he explains, wholly unaware that Glynda is now in her kitchen and gaping at her favorite coffee cup, wondering how the handle had suddenly snapped off in her hand. "Her classes focused on actual combat. I'm sure we would've gotten into more aura related stuff if we had the chance."
They nod with a hum, connecting thoughts and theories like dots in their mind. "And Pyrrha? Didn't she try to help you?"
"Yeah. We just...we didn't get very far either."
"I see." another nod. "Continue, sorry to disturb you."
He offers up a murmur of thanks before tucking his chin and taking a deep breath, trying to get his head back in the right place. Jaune forces his thoughts to center, to still, and tries reaching for his semblance again. He finds the gilded thread of it more easily this time, taking as firm a hold of it as he can. Slowly, steadily he draws it in, like the line on a fishing rod, until he feels the warm energy perched beneath his ribs. Another breath, and he pushes through the exhale. Jaune watches as the stone tomahawk takes on a faint golden glow and shifts in the dirt, though it doesn't fall. He tries again, brow knitting tightly as he pushes harder. The energy in him flexes and then dissipates as the weapon topples on its side with a rustle of dry grass. Jaune relaxes, pleased surprise on his face.
"Very good." Billy actually smiles. Then they stand up and put the ax back on its end before resuming their seat. "Now do it gain."
(II)
Ruby loves the warm fuzziness between asleep and awake, so plush and comfortable. She's still groggy enough to not be aware of all the grown-up stuff that's going to follow her around all day, but not so far down that she can't enjoy the softness of the bed linens and pillows and the warm body that she unconsciously and steadily scoots towards. Eyes still closed she curls around it, one arm draping as she nuzzles her face into what feels like ribs. There's silk under her palm and cheek, likely a nightgown, and she feels her arm rise and fall with the cadence of easy breathing. She smiles, willing to wake up just a little more as fingers twine in her hair, almost petting her.
"Did I wake you?"
Ruby shakes her head, inching that much closer, gripping Weiss around the middle. "Why are you up already?" she grumbles a little, her question hushed against Weiss' side.
"It's seven."
"Ew," as far as Ruby is concerned, any hour before breakfast didn't exist. "I thought you said you didn't have to go into the office today,"
"I don't. But I still have some work to do."
"Like what?"
"You know...stuff."
"Hmm. Where's Blake?"
"Bathroom."
Finally Ruby resigns to opening her eyes, one silver iris revealed and looking up into her Maiden's face. The heiress is studying her scroll, but her gaze pulls away to meet Ruby's, smiling a little and making Ruby do the same. Ruby shifts against her, managing into a half sitting position without separating from her, still tucked beneath one arm with one of her own across Weiss' waist. Weiss notices the stubborn shock of dark hair standing almost straight up on Ruby's head and fixes it with a couple passes of her palm.
Ruby lets her head rest on Weiss' shoulder. "So what are you doing?"
"Preparations for Solstice mostly. I'm considering commissioning some gear for us too."
"Ooh, like what?" Ruby almost puts her head between Weiss and the screen, the heiress having to push her back a little.
"Well," Weiss taps the screen with her thumb, a hint of hesitation, "I've been looking at some armor...I'd like for you to think about perhaps wearing some from now on."
"But I won't be as mobile if I'm weighted down with extra stuff."
"I know, that's why it's so minimal, see?" she tilts the screen, "and it's light weight. It might not stand up to a direct hit from something large," her thoughts drift briefly back to airship crash, "but..." then her words fumble, a little redness forming in the natural pallor of her face, "I just want to keep you as safe as possible."
"Aw," Ruby coos, "that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
Weiss offers a sideways glance. "You said the same thing when I told you there were fresh cookies in the kitchen."
"Yeah...but that was yesterday."
Weiss rolls her eyes but lets herself smile as well. "In any case...I wish you would at least consider it."
Ruby turns her head, partly surprised her partner doesn't meet her gaze. "Okay," she concedes. "If it'll make you feel better."
"Thank you." Weiss sounds genuinely relieved. "I was thinking all of us could sit down and talk about it."
"You sure that's such a good idea? All of us running around covered in metal going up against a...Grimm-thing that can use polarity?"
"I-," Weiss stops herself, doubling back. "...A fair point. Still, I'm sure there are other options -I would certainly feel better if you went into battle with more than a skirt and a cape."
"You mean like you? And you do it without the cape,"
Weiss' eyes thin as she glowers up at Ruby.
"Hey, you said you loved me, that means you don't get to give me dirty looks anymore." Ruby tries not smile too broadly and fails when Weiss' expression intensifies.
Their attention on one another breaks up and shifts away when there's the distinct sound of muffled flushing and the gentle creak of working door hinges from across the room. Both of them watch as Blake shuffles out of the adjacent bathroom, scratching at her scalp, eyes only half open and focused dimly on the floor. Without a word she crawls back into bed, Ruby lifting her arm once she's close enough in anticipation of what the faunus wants. She tucks tightly against her team leader, ears folded down, limbs snug to her body like she means to hide -or better yet, disappear.
Blake came into Weiss' room last night claiming she couldn't sleep, and while her tone had been level, seemingly untroubled, both Ruby and Weiss knew right away that she wasn't telling the whole truth. Of course she couldn't sleep, but it was obvious at a glance that the puffiness in her felid eyes wasn't caused by an inability to keep them closed. They didn't pry, didn't try to force the story out, instead they just invited her in and they snuggled on the bed together -Blake in the middle, a proper filling to a proper friend sandwich- with the television on until she did finally fall asleep. All the while Weiss could sense an uncustomary, but not unfamiliar heat radiating throughout the manor.
The Winter Maiden knew it was Yang's aura pulsing like the makings of an uncontrollable blaze just looking for the right accelerant to set it off, and immediately sensed that it and Blake's current mood were directly linked. Yet, as much as she wanted to know what was going on between her teammates, she already knew that Blake was in no state to talk. Besides, she already had an idea.
The other shoe must have dropped, as they say. God, I hope Yang will be all right...
More truthfully, Yang and Blake. They had gone through so much to be a team again, the idea that it could all fall apart so quickly makes Weiss' gut wrench.
"She just needs time." Ruby sighs softly, as if she had read Weiss' thoughts. Maybe she did. She tugs up the blankets, covering Blake to the shoulders, a little relieved when she seems to relax a bit. "I mean...yeah, we've all had to deal with some heavy stuff this past year...but Yang...well,"
"I know." Weiss nods. "Just wish there was something I could do."
"That's because you like micromanaging things, control freak." Ruby smirks. "I bet you even color code your underwear."
"I do not," the heiress counters.
Blake shifts against Ruby's side, turning her head to neutrally say "Kind of hard to color code them when they're all white."
Weiss sputters, so red she's nearly glowing. Ruby partly cringes at the blaring white noise filling her head. "How do you know that?!"
A little, cat like smirk. "I didn't. But now I do."
Ruby feels Weiss' aura bristle sharply against hers and sees the heiress' face redden in correlation with a little growl. She puts herself between the two -it's all in fun, her mind whispers as Ruby nudges Weiss' forehead with her own. Let her have this, at least she's talking now.
Alright. Comes a cold reply, a sensation that warms with a little kiss.
Blake can almost sense their attention drift away from her, her teammates renewing their focus on the scroll and lowering their voices as they start a new conversation. That's all well and good. She isn't really ready to be the center of anything right now. All that would serve to do is make her feel cornered again, caught between the pressure of attention and that yawning distance she still feels between her and her other teammate.
All night her brain had been buzzing with noise, a host of anxious words manically repeating varying degrees of Yang and I'm sorry. What sleep she did get had been shallow and fitful, her dreams full of fire and the screaming of crows, streaks of crimson across the blackness of her slumbering mind. Once she had reached out with her aura, unconscious to the attempt, only to snap it back once it brushed against Yang's, the heat of it bordering on caustic and forcing Blake to recoil. She had felt something like fear again and reacted like a dog that had just taken a rolled newspaper to the nose.
She hates me. What am I going to do? I can't just leave...I promised I wouldn't. They need me, but...
Her body slowly tenses, and Blake buries her face in Ruby's side to hide the hurt.
(III)
He's improving, they would readily admit it -over the last month Jaune had made noticeable and surprising strides in his training, but there is still something crucial missing.
His push-off is great, Jaune can close distances in an instant like a competent hunter, and he finally has a method to comfortably switch from leading with his sword to his shield and back again in an applicable manner. His swings are much more precise, actually having the intent to cut instead of the awkward, poorly focused bashing it appeared to have been before. His shoulder now holds fast under heavy blows to his shield, he's even beginning to comprehend using it as a second weapon -like an edged bludgeon. Jaune's feet no longer plant themselves flat on the ground, something Billy has been relentlessly harassing him to change, and now keeps his weight shifting front to back and manages it with balls of his feet instead of his heels. Just these seemingly minor adjustments allowed him to advance by comparative leaps and bounds, Billy hasn't been able to put him on his back for days.
But there is still something he's lacking, something that could make all of his improvement worthless.
In the dying light of the evening, the air cooling by degrees, the two of them stand toe-to-toe, meaning to finish up their work for the day. Sweat rolls down their faces, their heated and rhythmic exhales visible in the cool air as steam. Billy waits, axes up, watching Jaune and ready to take what he was meaning to give. Jaune's eyes are fixed on them, eyes centering on their waistline so his peripherals would account for any movement they made, any at all.
Jaune pushed hard with his back leg, keeping his shield close to his chest as he turns at the waist, the blade of Crocea Mors thrusting forward with enough force to make the air whistle. Billy leans aside, one big foot shifting as they move one ax into position to catch the blade with flickering sparks as opposed to the meat of their bicep. Jaune follows through, swinging his shield arm and making the faunus duck before bringing the sword down from overhead. Billy twists away, still facing him as they back up. The human keeps pressing, quick bursts of forward motion that keep the distance between them anxiously narrow. More sparks fly as sword and ax and shield collide and depart with the sharp scrapings of steel and stone. Surprise flickers across Billy's face at his persistence, how they can't seem to get a foot in the door against him. He just keeps pushing, keeps their quarters close, offering only inches of room for them to think.
They push back with a hard thrust of their knee, a jolt of pain shooting through it when they hit his shield. Jaune pushes back, another hard advance, and shoves them off balance. Billy stumbles, falls, but rolls back onto their feet to continue. They swing one ax downward, not with the intent to strike him, but to hook the edge of his shield and pull it down, mimicking the same motion with their other weapon. As they expect Jaune catches it with the flat of his blade, circling his arm until the two weapons separate and free him up to attack again. This time Billy forces him away with a shove of their foot against his shield, but Jaune is back on them in an instant.
That's right, keep coming. Don't give me the chance to find an advantage. A part of Billy is so proud at his progress, but a bigger part is ready for that short-coming to rear its head. They can almost sense it. They push against him a little harder, putting more of their massive weight behind their swings and expecting him to quail. Jaune raises his shield to catch a flurry of stone, turning Crocea Mors over in his hand and pressing close enough to put the pommel in their gut. That actually took them by genuine surprise.
He follows through again -one more blow to the stomach, his body turns and he shoves his shoulder into the ribs with enough momentum to lift them off the ground, then his body turns again, his leg swinging to catch them behind the knees. Billy hits the ground hard, partly disoriented but not so much that they don't attempt to stand to again. Jaune puts the sole of his shoe to their sternum and shoves with a surprisingly controlled pulse of aura behind it, putting Billy soundly on their back.
Here's your chance boy, prove me wrong.
They wait, wait, watching as Jaune merely takes a step back, panting as his hands drift to his sides, guard lowered. "How was that?"
They wanted to be proud -Nature's grace did they want to be proud of him. He had come so far, but until he learned this...
With an ax still in hand they reach out and hook his ankle, tearing him to the ground as they roll to their hands and knees and get to their feet. With a chesty grumble they move to stand over him, shoulders hunched making them look impossibly bigger, and their brow is set so tight it must hurt.
"The fight isn't over just because you knock them down." they grunt.
Jaune sputters, pales, he doesn't dare move. "B-but...we're just..."
"You need. To follow. Through." Their jaw is tight, their tone is steadily sharpening, feeling like they've said this a million times already with each repetition having gone unheard.
For a moment the human just stares, shaking his head. "I don't want to hurt you."
"All this has gone far beyond what you want, boy," they snap. "The time for that is over, and you need to get that through your head."
Jaune frowns. "Look, I didn't choose to become a huntsman to kill people,"
"Your enemies have shown their hands! This Cinder clearly doesn't care -that thing out there," one big hand juts towards the treeline, "doesn't care why you became a hunter, it intends to kill you just the same! Wake. Up."
"Billy," he tries to at least sit up, shame rippling through him that scatters when their foot shoves him flat again.
"We have been at this for a month, what do I have to do to convince you?" the faunus almost shouts, seeming genuinely lost. "What will make you see?"
Jaune has no answer, he just looks back at them, anxious and uncertain.
"Do you want to leave your packmates without a leader? Would you abandon them?"
Jaune's clarity seems to come back coupled with a hint of indignation. "No."
"Would you put them at risk because you allowed your opponent to live?"
"Billy, that's not fa-"
"Death isn't fair! Death is a heartless thief and nothing will change that -all it can do is take! And if you're willing to stand by and allow it, tell me now so I can be on my way! I'll not waste any more of my time if you can't be bothered to protect you own life, never mind the lives of others!"
Billy yanks their foot away and turns their back on him, marching off towards the house. Jaune takes a moment to process what happened, to rationalize the bit of shock perched in his chest before scrambling to his feet.
"Let's go again," he shouts after them.
"Not until you get your head out of your backside!" they bite back from over their shoulder. Just as they reach the top of the short flight of stairs, reaching for the door, it seems to swing open on its own, the massive faunus stopping just short of driving through the eldest daughter that put herself in the doorway.
Jessica looks up at them, mouth open with one hand cupped at the side as if to amplify her voice for some long-distance call. She sputters and closes her mouth as she clears her throat. "S-supper's on the table, momma wants us all to wash up."
"Ah," the frustration that had been there but a moment ago seemed to disappear, "thank you."
"...You done whipping my brother's ass for the day?"
Then Billy scowls. "That's up to him. Excuse me."
Jessica steps aside, giving Billy a wide berth, ears tilted at a wary angle as her eyes move from Billy to Jaune. When she comprehends his clueless...self, her brows reach for her hairline. "What did you do?"
Jaune's gaze breaks away as he collapses his shield and sheathes his sword, head and shoulders hanging as he drags himself to the door. He doesn't have an answer when he gets there, leaving his sister to just watch him disappear inside. Her frame shifts with a heavy sigh and a shake of her head. Boys.
(IV)
Yang's head is full of hot ashes and glowing embers, has been for nearly three days -was it three? Everything has become a buzzing, molten blur of rampant thoughts and simmering anger, she's not even entirely certain which way is up at the moment. A little unsettling considering she took the last of her pain meds day before yesterday.
Her rehab sessions at the hospital provide a temporary distraction, her mind too busy with performing the most basic daily tasks in tedious repetition in order to acclimate to her prosthetic, but, again, it's only temporary. By the time she returns to the manor and twists off the mechanical limb to let her aching shoulder rest, she's livid again.
She had hoped taking the time to cool down, to process this new mess would help. She thought just being isolated and quiet would give her the chance to sort it all out and swallow it down, but no such luck. Somehow it only stoked the flames higher until it kept her awake at night -nightmare, after nightmare, after nightmare- and made her whole body pulse with...something awful, something that makes her stay tucked away from everyone else lest she see that same look of fear on them that she had seen on Blake that liked to gut her. The scant few of the others she has seen over the last couple days haven't asked her what's wrong -at this point she assumes they know. Ruby tries to act like nothing is out of place, Weiss does too although she fails at it somewhat. Yang knows the heiress instinctively keeps more than an arm's length away from her at any given time. Being aware of that is both understandable and painful. She doesn't want her friends to be afraid of her, but...
Gods above, she doesn't even know for certain what she's so mad about, only that there's a list. There is no top, no bottom, no possibly discernible method of least and greatest, it's just a mother. f*cking. List. And it's full.
As Yang steps out of the bathroom in a plain tank top and sweats, a damp towel around her neck and some of her skin still red from piping hot spray, her stomach growls again. She scowls, pushing the towel through her wild hair one last time with a grumble before letting it drape on the foot of the bed and heading for the door. She pauses only once, considering and declining to put her prosthetic on -maybe she'd take a break from lugging it around today. She hesitates in the doorway, looking this way and that along the hall to see if anyone was around. Quiet and alone, Yang starts down the corridor, feeling an anxious tightness to her frame -like stepping into a minefield, except the mines look like her friends and family and she's the one everyone's worried about setting off.
Luckily she doesn't encounter anyone as she descends the stairs and makes an undistracted path for the kitchen. The dining room is thankfully vacant as well, it being the lull between lunch and supper, allowing her to pass through the chamber like a hot wave. There are a couple members of the staff in the kitchen, Klein included, shuffling about with freshly cleaned dishes and putting away groceries. Tentatively, perhaps sensing the swelling press of her presence, Klein asks if he can get her anything. With a little laugh she nods, asking if he could sneak her a cold beer -I won't tell if you won't tell. She's a little surprised when he nods with a smirk, his irises bright red after an exaggerated blink.
Everything in the kitchen is either stainless steel or white subway tile, making the place seem so cold and uninviting, much like the rest of the house. A long island sits in the middle of the room, the space between it and the other stretches of counter tops just wide enough for two people to stand abreast to each other. A row of bar stools lines its far side, Yang settling atop one of them to wait for her drink. She doesn't have to wait long, tipping her chin in gratitude before popping the tab. It's a cold bite all the way down, something to squelch the burning in her gut. She's never been a fan of beer, but for some reason it sounded good today. Yang shakes her head, smirking in spite of herself; still tastes like piss. But at least she can fell full and buzzed.
Once the remainder of the staff leaves she has a few moments to herself, pretending to enjoy her drink in silence while unconsciously staring a hole into the wall across from her. A dull thump echoes through the room as the door swings open, Yang reflexively taking an almost too big gulp from the can in hopes of having most of it gone in case it happens to be someone she doesn't want to catch her.
"Oh, Yang, good to see you," Tag visibly brightens up, smiling with a happy toss of her tail behind her. "Feeling any better?"
"Um, yeah," she's a little surprised by the question, trying not to choke on the big bubble trying to push up from her stomach. Finally she burps, her fist against her mouth. "I'm fine just...you know."
"Just not feeling it, I guess? I personally don't understand one's need to be alone," Tag crosses the room, moving to the far side of the island to lean against it across from her, "but I appreciate that some have it. Is everything all right?" the faunus co*cks her head, sympathetic and curious.
Yang doesn't respond right away, taking a moment to turn the can in place and think.
"What is that? Doesn't smell too good,"
"Just beer."
One charcoal brow lifts, "Can I try it?"
Yang just pushes the aluminum cylinder towards her, dipping her chin in consent. Her attention is divided between Tag and the wall, partly unaware how the older woman studies the can and sniffs it again, her nose wrinkling before she elects to take a sip. Then she's fully focused as obvious disgust manifests throughout Tag's whole body, her face scrunching, arms tensing against her chest, and her tail kinking in several places. Yang almost laughs when she carefully puts the can down before swallowing hard, showing the last of her displeasure with the drink with an echoing "Blech!"
"Yeah, even though this is the high-dollar stuff, it sucks." Yang chuckles, nodding as she takes the drink back and finishes it.
"Why on earth are you drinking that? Nature's grace," Tag sputters, doing everything she can not to spit out what's left on her tongue.
"What, didn't you have booze in the jungle?"
"Of course we did, but it tasted a sight better! You'd have to be drunk already just to stomach that!" Tag just shakes her head and shifts away from the island, still griping a little as she goes in search of something more pleasant to drink. It takes her a few minutes to find the glasses, having only been in the kitchen but a handful of times. She doesn't know what half of the stuff in the refrigerator is, unable to read the labels, but is more than content with the water from the tap.
"Mind if I sit with you?" Tag asks softly from where she stands by the sink.
Yang lilts her head. "It's a free kingdom."
"What?"
"Just a saying. Sit where you want."
Not too quickly the faunus rounds the island, a bit of walk, and comes to sit on the stool to Yang's left. For a spell they just sit quietly, Tag drumming her fingers on her glass and her tail drifting back and forth behind her. Yang is staring at the wall again, thoughts pulling her away, though a part of her mind is contemplating another beer -if not that then maybe the fuss of mixing her own drink, a strawberry sunrise sounds so good right now. Her attention comes prickling back at the feel of something brushing unexpectedly against the small of her back. Her head jerks to the side, looking to see Tag's tail is a little too close.
"Oh, sorry." the faunus quickly pulls it back, half wrapping it around her own waist. "Has a mind of its own sometimes."
"It's fine." Yang replies, reflexive, half tensed. Tension that steadily eases through another stretch of quiet.
"Would you...do you want to talk about it?" Tag asks, seemingly out of nowhere but quite the opposite. She knows Yang has been fuming these last few days, has felt her aura from anywhere in the house like one feels the heat radiating from a bonfire even as they sit in the shadows. She knows what hurt feels like too, and Yang -and Blake for that matter- are hurting. It doesn't take too much for her to put two-and-two together.
"There's nothing to talk about." Yang says flatly. "Won't change anything."
"You sure? Because it doesn't seem like staying holed up in your room is changing anything either," and she internally flinches when Yang's eyes cut to her, narrowed and somewhat severe. The faunus withdraws a little, wary but trying not to let it show. "...I'm worried about you is all, honest."
"Don't be." Yang shrugs. "I can still fight."
Tag makes a face, confused. "That's not why I'm worried. You haven't been yourself...at least, not the you that I know. If...if there's something I can do to help bring her back, I'd like to try. I mean," she pauses, swallowing, feeling maybe she's touching too close to some unspoken boundary, "I'm not just here to help Weiss, I can be here for all of you."
Yang lets the words sit in her mind, steeping, maybe unconsciously weighing how true they sound. It's not a phrase she's too accustomed to, certainly not recently when she felt like she needed to hear it the most. Even if that weren't the case, it wasn't like she would've believed it. I'm here for you is the biggest lie in Yang's life, second only to this won't hurt a bit.
"Did you and Blake argue?"
Yang laughs a little, mostly to herself though it's audible. "Nah. That might actually make this mess easier."
"What mess?"
Yang fumbles with the words in her head, rimming the edge of the can with her index finger in an attempt to put them in the right order. "Just...family stuff. We don't...we kind of have this thing where we don't tell each other stuff."
"And for good reason,"
Both women turn their heads in unison, towards the gravelly grumble that both cuts and mounts the uneasy heaviness in the room. Qrow crosses the floor with his usual, functional-alcoholic lean. Both of them watch him, Yang's brow low over her eyes, her aura flaring a little. Tag senses the shift, bristling and giving Qrow a wary look.
"I'd love to hear these supposed reasons," Yang exhales. "Although it would've been a nice courtesy to get them a lot sooner."
"What Raven really was had to be kept a secret -a very close secret, just like how Weiss, Tag, and even Blake have to be kept secret."
"But why from me?"
"We couldn't take any risks."
"Risk of what? Who the hell was I going to tell?"
"The less you knew, the better. Even Tai didn't know." it's almost unsettling how nonchalant Qrow is offering up this information. Like it's nothing. "It wasn't even the risk of you two ratting her out; can you imagine what would have happened if word spread that a Maiden had a family? Children?"
"You think I haven't considered that already?" Yang glares at him from across the island. "I'm not stupid."
"Never said you were." he shakes his head, leaning against the island, propped on his elbows with his forearms folded.
She scowls hard, unable to look at him for a moment as her fingers tighten around the aluminum can, the thin metal clicking as small depressions form beneath the digits. "She was my mother. I had a right to know."
"Sorry, kid, but you didn't." he counters flatly. "All that was just too big for you then."
"And raising Ruby wasn't?" Yang bites back. "Because that's basically how it was. When you weren't around to help dad, all she had was me. And then you came around less and less,"
Tag swallows the thickness in her throat, sensing the pitching static in the room. Part of her feels like she should leave, but the other part simply can't make herself move.
"Yang," he exhales, "listen, Blake-"
"I don't want to talk about Blake right now!" The can hits the counter top with a punctuated CLACK. "I'm not angry at Blake, I'm angry at you. For as long as I can remember, all I've ever wanted to know was why; all I ever asked is why Raven left, and even after she's dead you still can't be bothered to come clean to me! You didn't even tell me she was dead, I had to hear it from my friend. What the hell do I have to do?!"
Qrow shrugs quietly. His gaze is low, unable to look his niece in the eye now. "Raven was trying to protect you."
"From what? A Witch?" And each word snaps passed her teeth like the cracking of a whip.
"Actually, yes. A Witch named Salem who was once our ally. Turns out that isn't so much the case, which is what drove Raven away from home. Summer too."
Yang recoils, expression an unreadable fusion of several negative things.
"The lot of us were hunting Grimm the likes of which most folks have never seen, and we needed every advantage we could get our hands on. A Witch's hex works just like a Maiden's mark, and it'll dissipate when she dies. Raven took Salem's hex to increase her powers -it's a two way street, now that I think of it. The hex allowed them to sort of tap into each other, it's complex. Too complex for me.
"Point is, we all saw Salem dragged into the void along with one of the nastiest Grimm this side of Sanus. We all thought she was dead. Days, weeks...months later, Raven still carried her mark and we didn't know what to do. When you were old enough not to need her so much, she left because she was feeling...things she knew she shouldn't be feeling." he pauses, maybe sorting his memories back into their rightful rank and file -Qrow, something's wrong with me...she's my baby...but why do I want to...- maybe trying to maintain his focus under the oppressive heat of Yang's steadily intensifying aura.
"Summer was Raven's Guardian, and though Raven let her go before she left, Summer couldn't just...you know. She loved Raven too much, so she tried to find her, to find a way to remove the hex. That's how she died." And not a day goes by that I don't hate myself for not trying harder to make her stay. And he still can't tell what's going through Yang's mind, if anything.
Tag remains stock still, fixed, like watching a train wreck -and she has only the faintest idea of what a train is. She can feel Yang's aura roiling, a noticeable sweat breaking out across her neck and face. She tries to catch Qrow's attention, unsure if he can sense it too since he seems to pay it zero mind. He won't look at her in spite of the face she's making at him, lips pressed into a thin line with severe eyes in an attempt to project her thoughts as loudly as possible without having to speak. Back away, back away.
Yang takes a deep breath, in and out through flared nostrils. Her heart is pounding hard enough for her to hear. The can crumples under her vice-like grip, forcibly deformed as her knuckles turn white. Her brow furrows, her eyes shut. When she opens them she's staring down into the diffused and vague reflection in the brushed stainless steel of the island, two obviously red spots staring back at her. Now she knows. Finally she knows why. But...everything is...the same? Nothing has changed? Shouldn't she feel...something? Isn't closure supposed to feel good? Why does she still feel so...
Because it didn't change anything. All these years, especially as she got older, Yang kept telling herself that it wouldn't. She told herself it would just help her understand, maybe give her a bit of comfort, but it wouldn't undo the childhood she didn't get to have. It wouldn't erase her six-year-old self having to figure out cooking and laundry so her and Ruby could eat and have clean clothes to wear, or make up for Taiyang's emotional disappearing acts. It didn't still the blur of countless nights that Ruby cried herself to sleep over Summer, didn't shush the whimpering echoes asking when mommy's coming home. It wouldn't bring back all the people she felt had walked out of her life, some when she needed them most.
A little part of her mind, something tucked away in the back is starting to panic. Now what? oh god, now what? It isn't better, this isn't getting better, what now? I don't have an answer, I'm just angry. This is supposed to get better...
The bar stool under her screeches as she pushes it back, making room enough to stand up. She knows her hand is stuck in a fist, the crushed can still trapped in her grip, but she starts walking anyway. That same panicked notion is telling her to get back to her hole, to get away from everything.
"It's not a good time to start hiding again, kid. We need you to start standing on your own feet now."
She pauses, completely unaware and uncaring of the scathing look her uncle is getting from the faunus now behind her. A quick, hot breath passes through her nostrils again. "f*ck off."
"Or what? You'll throw another tantrum?"
In the matter of three seconds, just as many things happen. Qrow straightens, unable to rationalize the sharp pitch of aura that rolls over him like a truck. Tag leaps from her stool across the counter, tearing the huntsman with her to the floor as she feels the same energy surge as he did. Then the entire manor shakes.
Author's Note: Well...that was a thing, wasn't it? Some parts of this feel a little awkward, but I honestly can't imagine any of this any other way. Next chapter, Yang's anger management becomes a priority, and maybe Jaune will finally figure out the proper size and shape of the boot he needs put to his backside in order to get his Semblance groove on. Questions and comments are always welcome, and shout out to Draconic_Noble, Canterous, and Strayphoenix. You guys rock!
