Things You Wrote On the Walls

Ruby 

She was spinning in the air and it was summertime.

The vast expanse of a sloping, clipped lawn rolled away to a two-story house with a curving balcony, and trees twisting up from the ground. The house was peeling with paint, the windows open like vacant eyes, curtains fluttering in the high wind. The salty scent of the sea was sharp in the air, the dusk painting the sky in purples and golds and grays, and Summer Rose swung her about before setting her down in the grass. Ruby was breathless with laughter, and she staggered about, dizzy, before collapsing in a heap on the lawn.

“Summer,” Taiyang pleaded, plaintively. “You’ve made her all jittery, now. You know she gets hyper—“

“It’s alright, love,” Summer Rose broke in, laughing, sweeping a curl of choppy dark hair behind her ears. Her eyes were like overexposed lights, more silver than gray, laughing and freely happy. “She ought to be happy before I go on my mission. We know what a spoil-sport you are, Tai.” She dropped a glittery wink at Ruby, who grinned and stuck her tongue out at her father.

Taiyang assumed a stern look, though his eyes were gleaming with amusement. “Why, I—“ Then he staggered forward, eyes widening, as a force slammed into him from behind.

“I’ve— fallen,” he gasped, before dropping to the ground in a skewed, lolling imitation of a corpse. Yang crawled off of him, baring her brawling wrists, crowing in triumph. “I did it, Ruby, I slew the Huntsman!”

Ruby opened her mouth— to charge, to jump into mock-battle, but then her dream was changing.

The memory dissolved into a shadowy place, devoid of life and leeched of color. The grueling weight of gravity pulsed down upon her. Sunken depressions scattered unevenly across the barren landscape, and the sun hung in the sky, swollen and scarlet like a burnt cinder. Broken struts and shattered scaffolding of buildings soared up from the ground, like jagged knives.

She could see the eyes of Grimm burning like torches in the dark, bloody scarlet pits of eyes. They moved in a ceaseless tide, the humming dissonance of their footfalls beating against her ears. They fanned out, flooding across the land like a swirling dark river with flashes of white like detritus, and Ruby felt them lust for her fear, for the darkness that drove them. A solid wall of greed, hate, sorrow— all those emotions that slept in her veins— woke, amplified, and crashed down over her.

One of the Grimm halted on the outermost edges and turned towards her, its brutish face twisted in a bared-teeth grin. But its eyes weren’t crimson; they were silvery-gray like the moon, like Summer Rose’s, and then Ruby was twisting and falling into darkness as a scream tore from her throat—

“Hey. Hey, Ruby, wake up.”

Ruby cracked up one eye, bleary, from sleep. She frowned— there had been a dream, she was sure, of green lawns, gray eyes, darkness— but it was like trying to hold onto sand as it sifted through a sieve. She was only aware of vague sense of sadness before that, too, faded; she shook the lingering traces of the dream away and frowned up at Yang, who was fully dressed, highlighted in the muted dawn light that glared through the slashed curtains.

“Yang,” she protested weakly. “Let me sleep. It’s the weekend.”

“Hell yeah, it is. That means we get the day off. We’re all gonna go downtown, remember? Mistral ships start arriving today. The Vytal tournament isn't too far away.”

Excitement coursed through her veins, burning away the traceries of sleep. “Right! I forgot - well, I didn't forget, obviously, because it's the tournament and who could forget it, right, it's crazy, but I - ”

"Ruby. Breathe. Get dressed. Chill."

"Don't be yangry, sis."

A pillow thumped into Ruby's head and a quick glance revealed that Blake had thrown it and was glaring at the both of them. "It is too early for puns." 

"It's never too early for puns, kitten," Yang said cheerily, and Blake groaned loudly.

After Ruby had gotten dressed, made Weiss grumpy and amended it by pouring her coffee, shaken Blake awake a total of six times, and Yang hit her partner with the notorious book Ninjas of Love, and gotten yelled at by both the former and the latter, they were ready to go. The halls of Beacon— normally vacant on a weekend— were flooded with students just as eager to go to the city.

The day outside was the crisp, cloudless blue of autumn that gave you a peculiar ache of both happiness and nostalgia. Wind rustled in breaths through the trees, turning honey-golds and reds into a shifting sea of color, and the city was alive, busting with excitement as people prepared for the festivities that approached in just a few short weeks. The low, lovely whistle of flute music swung through the air, followed by sweeter trills of a violin, and the distant swelling and crashing of the sea made Ruby want to spread her arms and take in all of Vale— her home. It was no Patch, but it was somehow just as good. 

She’d come here with her family several times as a kid, and the memories bombarded her, most of them bittersweet— Taiyang picking her up in his arms and spinning her around in the air. Yang finding her left hand, opening her fingers, and pushing a Vytal cake in her palm, the golden brown pastry’s surface sticky, scented of cinnamon and sugar, oozing honey and butter, rivulets of the creamy frosting joining the honey in the pit of the swirling center. Summer Rose sneaking glances of the news stations reporting on the White Fang’s evolution as they walked past. Worried gray eyes. She had loved Vale but it was easy to see the hints of changes that had happened— the rusty red stains on some of the buildings that looked suspiciously like blood, the podiums set up for newscasts, the newer statues of a Huntsman bearing a sword and driving off a snarling Beowolf.

Still, it was the Vytal season, and the buildings were already showing signs of preparations— trellises woven with gold streamers hung off the sides of apartment complexes, and banners with embossed insignias flapped in the wind.

Ruby glanced back at her team— Weiss, looking out of character as her eyes glowed at the decorations, Yang, brushing hair from her eyes as the wind tossed it about, Blake, glancing at Yang with a curiously soft look in her eyes.

But then she turned back to the city, with her team at her back and the sun rising above them— and, sure, maybe things were tough. Maybe there was a certain energy in the air setting them on edge, and there was evil in the world— but for now, she had things to look forward to, and she had her team, and that was okay.

Blake

There was warmth swelling in her chest. Something dangerous, she was sure.

Blake gave a frustrated grunt and shifted her shoulders, Gambol Shroud falling further down her back. Friends— the last time she’d placed her trust this squarely in a person, he had shattered it. Yang didn’t have that edge of malevolence, but she was more than she appeared— there were secrets behind her smile, agendas behind her advice. They weren’t malicious, but they were there nevertheless, and that alarmed Blake.

Because, hell, she actually liked Yang. 

The sea crashed against the shores and against the slicing prows of the boats that had sailed into the harbor, light glittering off the dazzling waters in shattered beaming arcs.

Yang’s nose crinkled. “Remind me again why we’re spending our afternoon visiting the stupid docks?”

Blake took a deep breath— the salt and crying wildness of the sea as gulls soared above—  but a reluctant smile was tugged from her by the look on Yang’s face and— ugh, this really was going too far. 

“I’ve heard,” Weiss said, a pompous tone entering her voice, “that students visiting from Vacuo will be arriving by ship today. And, as a representative of Beacon, I feel as though it is my solemn duty to welcome them to this fine kingdom!

Blake rolled her eyes, hard. “She wants to spy on them so she'll have the upper hand in the tournament."

Weiss’s shoulders shrugged, sharp and deft through her alabaster shirt, but she didn’t deny it. ”You can't prove that!"

“Hey— guys, look!”

Blake turned her head— and stiffened. Her eyes landed on the sunlight glancing off of fine, powdered shards of glass that scattered like snow across the cobblestones. A storefront was desecrated, the remaining glass of the window jagged, like serrated teeth, and bright golden bars of caution tape crisscrossed across the door, which hung, shattered, swinging drunkenly off the hinges.

She followed her team with a sinking feeling in her chest as they stopped short of the ruins of the storefront. She couldn’t pin where the skittish, dreading feeling came from, but it reminded her of the feeling she’d gotten whenever Ayran had sent that flashing and menacing grin her way.

“I’m sure it’s no biggie,” Yang whispered to her, though her eyes betrayed worry as they looked at the storefront. Blake blinked back at her, and she felt a kaleidoscope of warmth flower in her chest as Yang bit her lip and frowned, before she shook off her feelings. It had been so long since she’d truly trusted someone. She was just— overwhelmed with it, that was all. Overwhelmed, and totally platonic. It had to be.

Ruby raised her voice and called out to the two detectives that were standing amidst the ruins. ”What happened here?"

One of them turned, a scowl crossing his face as he crunched across the powdered glass. "Robbery. Second Dust shop to be hit this week.” His voice darkened with heavy annoyance. “This place is turning into a jungle."

"That's terrible,” Yang murmured, nudging a remnant of a glinting, bloody-gold Dust shard with her foot. It sparked feebly, jumping backward with a hissing puff of smoke.

Blake’s ears pricked as she heard an angry voice. ”They left all the money again!”

Ruby’s head whipped around. ”Huh?"

"Yeah, just doesn't make a lick of sense. Who needs that much Dust?"

"I don't know. An army, maybe?”

"You, uh, you thinking it might be the White Fang?"

Blake’s heart jumped against her ribs. No…

The other detective growled an annoyed noise of contempt. ”Yeah, I'm thinking we don't get paid enough."

Weiss dragged her foot back, creating a clear swathe of concrete amidst the broken glass. ”Hmph! The White Fang. What an awful bunch of degenerates!"

Blake felt her chest grow taut at the sneer in her voice, anger jumping to life inside of her. “What's your problem?"

Weiss raised an eyebrow. ”My problem? I simply don't care for the criminally insane."

"The White Fang is hardly a bunch of psychopaths,” Blake growled— god only knows, I used to think we were in the right— crossing her arms and glaring at Weiss. “They're a collection of misguided Faunus."

Her lip curled in revulsion. ”Misguided? They want to wipe humanity off the face of the planet!"

"So then they're very misguided,” Blake spat, before taking a breath to calm herself. “Either way, it doesn't explain why they would rob a Dust shop in the middle of downtown Vale!"

Ruby’s grey eyes flickered worriedly between them, but she didn’t comment. “Weiss, she’s got a point. Besides, the police never caught Torchwick guy I ran into a few months ago, and he was robbing another Dust shop. Maybe it was him."

“The ruffian’s probably six feet under by now,” Yang muttered, and Blake gave her a grateful look.

Weiss: "That still doesn't change the fact that the White Fang are a bunch of scum. Those Faunus only know how to lie, cheat, and steal."

Blake’s ears flattened and she saw red, a molten tide of anger threatening to overwhelm her. Shut up, shut up, shut up—

Yang shifted uncomfortably, a frown on her face. ”Uh, Weiss, that's not necessarily true— ”

A shrill shout interrupted her fuming fury. “Hey, stop that Faunus!"

You have got to be kidding me.

Blake followed stiffly as her team ran to the guardrails, but her anger fizzled to confusion as she saw a shape crouched on the edge of a ship, his hair ruffled in gold. As she watched, the figure arced off the railing and fell lightly to the sun-withered boards below, taking off in an unhurried gait to the stairs.  As the detectives followed in hot pursuit, he increased his pace, sprinting up the stairs and twirling up onto the railing.

As he sprang past them, he turned and grinned sharply at Blake, and she froze. Weiss’s shout shattered her shock.

That grin, reckless and bright, so like Adam…

No. She took to her feet and fled after her team.

He’s a ghost I need to let go of.