Visitation and Gratitude
Tried my hand at some fic shit.
Characters: Ruby Rose, Yang Xiao Long
Word Count: fuck if I fuckin’ know
Place in timeline: Red Trailerish??? It’s some minor AU shit so you’ll probs figure it out while you read.
Recommended listening after the “... ... ...” break between scenes.
Fuckin’, give me critique or whatever. I got a scene idea in my head after watching some anime or something.
Streaks of red blitz across an empty clearing with speed to match the howling blizzard and hounds that sought to snuff out its life.
It was like a blood-dipped brush pressed against a stark, bleak canvas, carving across the monochromatic landscape with brilliant flashes of color and sound, carrying the carefully channeled violence of an enraged artist in their wake. Flakes of paint flurry and scatter about through the wind like rose petals, as the whirlwind of violence comes to a sudden screeching end of groaning metal barely able to keep up with the strength and speed of its wielder.
Scattered petals drape across the snow as a young girl lands in a low crouch, a massive weapon, too big to be simply called a scythe, too mechanical, too over-engineered to be considered a regular tool of warfare, draped over her shoulders along with a brilliantly red cloak that flutters in the wind. Snow and shell casings alike fall to the ground with an unnatural rhythm, as the petals seem to fade, much like the corpses of her enemies.
She gazes with disdain as cold as the falling snow as they disappear, as if they had never existed in the first place, only the quickly filling gouges in the snow and earth she left behind and the soon-to-be-smothered empty casings and the fast fading boot prints her footfalls left in the snow remaining as evidence that a battle had ever taken place here at all.
Crunches of snow behind her. She swings the weapon to bear, letting it fold in on itself with sounds of clicking metal and whirring servos as its bladed mass compresses into a long, supremely bulky rifle that she holds at waist level, aiming at her target.
“Whoa! Jeez! Wait a second, it’s just me! It’s just me!” Cries out a new voice, as its owner raises her hands, brilliant, golden hair blowing in the wind as she flinches in surprise. “You didn’t forget I was here or something did you?!”
The red-cloaked girl pauses for a moment before letting the weapon continue to compress until it folds together like a compact box that she attaches to a magnetic holster mechanism on her back, turning away from the other girl with a slow breath.
“Ehe...” She giggles bashfully, rubbing the back of her head through the hood of her cloak. “Sorry about that sis, I just got really into cleanup, y’know?”
“Ruby...”
“I know, I know, gotta keep it under control. I don’t wanna fight anymore today if I can help it either, I think I’m almost out of ammo after that last fight...”
The golden-haired girl lets loose an exasperated sigh, rubbing at her face. She neglected to bring a cloak with her, but her body seemed to radiate a heat all its own, the snow surrounding her singing off with wisps of steam as it falls against her skin.
“It’s not that, it’s just-”
“Yang. Really. I’m fine.”
Ruby looks over her shoulder, her eyes hidden in the shadow of her hood as Yang simply spies a thin smile. It was hard to tell whether it was genuine or not, but... It was the best the older of the two was going to get for the time being. She practically rushes Ruby, swinging her arms around her for a bear hug.
“Ah come here already! You’re gonna freeze if you don’t stick close to me you know!”
“Y-yang! Yang that’s too tight! You’ll crush me, really, you’ll crush me! I think something’s creaking…!”
... ... ...
In time, the two sisters reached their destination through those dreary woods, their first task complete, standing before a lone grave, covered with snow, barely noticeable in the pile of frost and powder that had tried to leave it buried and forgotten.
“Ready, Ruby?”
“Yeah.” The younger sister says, withdrawing her sniper-scythe from its holster once more, racking the slide as her elder companion flicks her wrists, gauntlets extending to cover her hands.
Yang crouches low to the grave’s right, her eyes closed, legs spread in a wide stance, with her fists clenched and arms crossed at the wrists in front of her waist with her elbows slightly bent.
Ruby positions her scythe at her shoulder to the grave’s left, both arms fully extended, left hand grasping the bottom half of the scythe with the right holding the top, the shaft sliding down her right arm and pressing against the back of her head, one foot raised off of the ground.
“This makes...”
“Almost three years since we first started this huh?”
The two sisters suck in a slow breath, as if their very lives depended upon their timing being absolutely perfect.
A slow, synchronized exhale.
“I don’t think we’ll be able to do this anymore once I head to Beacon, huh?” Yang muses, keeping her eyes closed.
“...”
Another synchronized breath, paired with another exhale.
“...”
“...”
Inhale.
The world seems to pause. The wind dies as the snowfall ceases.
Ruby’s raised foot stomps with a hard crunch of snow and frozen grass, as Yang uncrosses her arms, slowly swinging them up in a perfect circle as she presses them together over her head before bringing them down to her chest, clasped together in prayer as her younger sister sweeps her foot exactly 90 degrees to the side.
Both of these motions happen in perfect sync.
With the sound of air being cut on the edge of a blade, Ruby swings her scythe, shaving it across the snow and collecting it in a perfect pile atop the flat of its blade.
She collected one inch. One inch of six.
Simultaneously, Yang unclasps her hands, bringing them down to her waist in a classical Karate stance, legs spread, body low, fists clenched, elbows slightly bent.
Exhale.
Their breaths slip out of their mouths with clouds of vapor, as Ruby spins the scythe in her hand, sending a pile of snow tumbling through the air across Yang’s front. Yang raises her fist with a blur of movement, swinging forward with a punch that leaves a burst of air and a sound like a whip cracking in its wake, blowing the glob of snow up and over the buried gravestone with a sound of rushing wind and the harsh report of the shotgun built into her gauntlet going off.
A blast spat from the barrel of the gun like flame from the maw of a dragon instantly melts the blown away snow, flash boiling it as hot water spatters down, melting some of the snow and ice that had built up over the grave and washing some of the dirt that had accumulated.
Another inhale, and the girls return to their starting positions, Ruby with her foot raised in the same stance as before, Yang with her arms crossed low in front of her waist.
Three years ago, a decision was made.
A stomp of a foot. An uncrossing of arms.
A show of gratitude.
A sound of singing steel and scraping snow.
To the woman that gave birth to one.
A burst of air and a blast of fire.
To the woman that stood in as mother for the other.
... ... ...
“Hah... Hah...”
“Hoo... I think we did it perfectly this time, Yang...”
“You sure? I think you were still off by a few fractions of a second on that last one. Look! It’s uneven!”
“Aw not right now! Not in front of mom!”
“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha, I gotcha...” Yang huffs as she steps up to the grave first. “Well mom, this is it... Gonna be the last time I can visit you like this for a while. Not till I graduate, at least.” Yang starts, rubbing the back of her head.
The grave stands silently.
“I hope you don’t get too lonely with just Ruby and Dad here, but... I’ll be back. I don’t think they’ll ever get the kinda timing sis and I got.”
...
“I guess... I just want you to know, even if I’m looking for... her, you’ll always be mom to me, alright? So, don’t get too jealous wherever you are, alright?!”
...
A slow breeze brushes over Yang’s hair, ruffling it slightly.
She huffs a bit, running a hand through her hair to straighten it out a bit, but... smiles. Just slightly, her eyes closed, and expression gentle.
“... Thanks. I’ll let Ruby take over now.”
Yang steps away, reaching up and giving Ruby’s shoulder a hard pat, enough to make the poor girl’s knees buckle for a second before she stands up again, folding her scythe behind her back.
She steps up quickly, nervously…
“Hey mom! It’s me. Again. Um. Uncle Qrow says hi. Okay, no, he didn’t, but, I think he was saying hi in spirit!” She says quickly, hands clenched in front of her chest. “Training’s going really well so far, it’s been really, really tough catching up, but... I’m gonna do it. Even if I have to work three times as hard as everyone else, I promise I’ll be strong enough to find him.”
That day stood out in her mind as her strongest memory. The one she latched onto like a house clings to its foundations.
Her father was crying, sunk to his knees with an empty eyed expression. Yang was practically inconsolable curled up on the ground, Qrow stood at the doorway with a flask in hand and the collar of the silver haired man before them in the other, screaming something in a drunken rage the likes of which Ruby had never seen before.
Thin, brown eyes peer over tiny spectacles perched on the nose of a man with a bruise already forming on his cheek, as he seemed to ignore the man that had just slugged him straight in the face, making eye contact, instead, with Ruby, gazing into her innocent, heart broken face, his words too quiet for the young girl to hear over Qrow’s shouting, save for a few words.
“-killed by a man with the eyes of a lion.”
The funeral was short. There was no body to hold a wake for. Tai Yang wasn’t even present, he was still frantically searching for any sign of his second lost love, as a younger Qrow stands in an uncharacteristically clean suit and tie.
“... no one else.” Ruby sobs, clutching her sister’s arm with a grip that left bright red welts from the sheer pressure.
“Ruby...?”
“- so no one else has to feel like this...!” She hisses inaudibly through the tears, rubbing at her eyes with ungraceful hiccups and wretched sobs.
Ruby opens her eyes, staring down at the grave before her, kneeling down and brushing her hand over the marble. It was hot, almost scalding to the touch. Any normal person would recoil in pain in an instant.
Summer Rose.
Thus kindly, I scatter.
But to do what she needed to do, she couldn’t be a normal person.
From that day onward, she turned her back on leading a peaceful life.
From what day onward, she made a promise.
From that day onward.
“... Hey, Ruby? Um, don’t wanna interrupt but…”
“Hm?”
“I think Qrow is trying to text you about something? He says he needs you to come by the usual place once we’ve finished up here. Kh, think he’d get a better sense of timing.” Yang huffs, shutting her scroll with an annoyed pout.
From that day onward...
“... Sorry mom, but, there’s something I’ve got to take care of. It might be a bit before I get back but... I know you’ll always be watching over me.”
“Wait, what? Sis, what are you talking about- hey! Hey! Wait up!”
Ruby rushes away, streaking across the landscape like a rose-tinted brush carried in the hurried fingers of a frantic painter.
She swore, she would become a Huntress.
