SAPR

by Scipio Smith

Parallels and Divergences (New)

Parallels and Divergences

“Hey, Yang,” Blake said, “can I talk to you for a second?”

Yang paused on her way to the door, one hand already reached out to grasp the handle. She let that hand fall to her side as she turned to face Blake. “Sure thing, what’s up?”

The two of them were in the dorm room, Team YRBN’s dorm room, that was currently Blake’s room but which wouldn’t be for very much longer.

Blake supposed that it had always felt like a transient space for her, somewhere that she was passing through, not putting down roots, a place that was merely somewhere for her to stay while she figured out where she wanted to spend the foreseeable future. She hadn’t done a lot to make the room her home, although the same could have been said about the BLBL room, when to all indications she had been set to spend four years there.

In any case, the decision to move was not a surprising one; the signs had been there from the beginning.

Hopefully, Yang would see it the same way.

“How’s the parade planning going?” Blake asked; it was putting the subject off, she knew, but at the same time, she didn’t want to get straight down to business; why shouldn’t she and Yang chat a little bit first?

“It’s going slower than the parade hopefully will,” Yang replied, grinning, “but we’ll get there. Most things are pretty hashed out by now, even the teams who want to take part. Now we just need to put them in order.”

“Are there teams who don’t want to take part?”

“Bluebell don’t seem very interested,” Yang replied. “Which is kind of ironic, considering that Ruby thought of them specifically when she argued that teams that weren’t competing should be allowed to join the parade.”

“Did Bon Bon give you a reason why she wasn’t interested?”

“She said she didn’t feel as though they’d earned the right,” Yang said. “I think … I think she’s still kind of down about Sky.”

“Understandable,” Blake murmured. “That kind of pain doesn’t go away so easily.”

“Ruby thought it would honour him,” Yang said. “Honour his memory, you know; like, the team parading with an empty space where he should be. A huntsman who gave his life for the people.”

“I’m sure it sounded good to Ruby,” Blake said, “but to Team Bluebell, it would seem a lot like rubbing salt in the wound, not deliberately, but … it would remind them of what they’ve lost. I don’t blame them for not wanting that.”

“Honestly? Me neither,” Yang said. “They’re the only First Year team that isn’t joining in; the only other Beacon teams that wanted out were a few Third and Fourth Years who did the parade in the last festival in Atlas. Apparently, two years ago, all the students wore uniforms, and the Shade students really stood out.”

“Because they don’t have a uniform at Shade.”

“Precisely,” Yang agreed. “That’s why we’re all going to march through Vale in our combat gear, so that everyone looks the same. I mean everyone looks different, but we’ll all look the same in our embrace of difference, if that makes sense?”

“Unity through diversity,” Blake said, “the spirit of Vytal.”

“I think the spirit of the Vytal Festival ought to include winning some fights as well, but sure, unity through diversity, what our ancestors fought a war for. Or fought a war against, depending on where you come from.”

“Depending on where you come from, it might be possible to have ancestors who fought on neither side,” Blake pointed out.

“True enough,” Yang admitted. “Ruby found out some stuff about our mom while you were away in Atlas, about where she came from and how she got to Beacon. You know, she came from beyond the kingdoms, the land that Vale and Mistral both tried to colonise and ended up starting a war over?”

“Obviously, I didn’t know that, since you only just found out yourself,” Blake said.

Yang chuckled. “Yeah, that’s a good point. But my real point is that I wonder which side her family fought on, or if they fought on any side or just sat out the war and waited to see which side would win.”

“That doesn’t sound much like a Rose, does it?” Blake asked.

Yang snorted. “No, no, it does not. But if you told me that Mom’s grandfather didn’t fight for either army but protected the people from the grimm drawn by the emotions of the war, I could believe that. It would fit with the whole silver-eyed thing.”

Blake nodded. “And your father’s family? I can’t help but notice that Xiao Long is a Mistralian name—”

“Yep,” Yang agreed. “According to my Dad, his great-grandpa got out of Mistral when they started cosying up to Mantle and half adopting all of their no-emotion policies. They were Valish by the time the war started. And how about you? Were your ancestors safe on Menagerie, or...?”

“We don’t tend to trace our family histories back like that,” Blake explained. “Well, no, some do; it depends whether you think that having been a slave is something shameful or that surviving slavery is something to be proud of.”

“I guess I can understand that,” Yang said. “I can’t say I want to find out more about the bandit family that Raven came from.”

“'Bandit'?”

Yang shook her head. “You’ve missed a lot while you’ve been away in Atlas,” she said. “It wasn’t only my mom that I found out more about. I learnt some more about Raven too. She paid me and Ruby a visit to talk about Salem and stuff. Oh, yeah, I know all about that. Sunset told me.”

“Sunset told you?” Blake repeated. “When?”

“After the Breach, when Ruby was in the hospital,” Yang said.

“Was she allowed to do that?”

“Probably not,” Yang replied, “but I’m glad she did. I’d have been more glad if Ruby told me—”

“Are you…?” Blake hesitated for a moment. “Are you upset that I didn’t tell you?”

“No,” Yang said at once. “I mean, it explains stuff, for sure, but I wouldn’t expect you to tell me a secret like that, any more than I’d expect you to tell Ren or Nora. It was a secret, you were told in confidence, and … it’s not like you really owe us anything. I mean, it explains a lot about what you were up to, but like I said, I wouldn’t expect you to unburden yourself to me. You didn’t owe me the truth. Maybe even Ruby didn’t owe me the truth; it was just … disappointing that she didn’t tell me.”

Blake frowned slightly. “Are you and Ruby okay?”

“Yeah!” Yang declared, turning away from the door and walking back towards the window. “Yeah, we’re cool. It’s all good now. I was upset for a while, but … we’re cool.”

“I see,” Blake murmured. She placed one hand upon the desk that ran along the side of the wall up until the door; the wood felt cool beneath her fingertips. “So … what do you think? About … everything?”

Yang said nothing for a few seconds. Her hands clenched into fists and then unclenched again. She approached the window seat but did not sit down; instead, she bent down, leaning against the window seat, looking out the window at the open grounds heading towards the cliffs.

“I got two minds about it,” she admitted. “Or maybe two souls, like that book of yours. One part of wishes that Ozpin had found me worthy to tell, like he found Ruby and Pyrrha. Wishes that he wasn’t so afraid that I’ll turn out like Raven that he could see how like my mom and dad I am. Or that he’d tell me that I was like my mom and dad by trusting me the way that he trusted them. A part of me wishes that he’d chosen me to fight alongside Ruby in all this—”

“To be with your sister or to be one of the chosen few?” asked Blake quietly.

Yang turned her head to look at Blake. “Can it be both?”

The corners of Blake’s lips turned upwards somewhat. “Yes,” she said, “I suppose. I mean, I don’t see why not.”

Yang smiled briefly. “So that’s one part,” she said, “but the other part … the other part of me gets why Uncle Qrow didn’t want either of us to know anything about this, and it doesn’t envy the fact that this is your life now. How do you feel about this? The fact that you’re committed to this, locked into it?”

“I’m not sure that I’m locked into anything,” Blake replied. “It’s not like I’ve sold my soul to anyone. If I want to, I can always walk away.”

“Like Raven?”

“I was going to say 'like your father,'” Blake said. “He’s a teacher, isn’t he?”

Yang nodded. “He teaches Elementary Plant Science at Signal Combat School.”

“'Plant Science'?”

“Yeah,” Yang said, “what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Blake said. “I just would have expected you to say that he taught combat or something.”

Yang chuckled. “Nah, Dad couldn’t teach any fighting style other than his own, which wouldn’t be great for any teacher but especially not one who doesn’t even bother with weapons. He taught me how to fight, but he couldn’t even teach Ruby, let alone other people’s kids.”

“He taught you, but you decided to use weapons?”

Yang shrugged. “Dad taught me to hit hard and hit fast, so I figured why not give myself an edge to let myself hit extra hard? And then, when I was thinking about how I might do that, strapping a pair of guns to my wrists seemed like a pretty obvious way to do it. Plus, it would let me hit anything that tried to stay out of reach of my fists, you know?”

“No, I get the logic behind it,” Blake said. “Just like I get why you feel the way you do. It’s … it’s a lot.”

“But you decided to get involved anyway,” Yang said. “You say that you can always quit later, but right now, you decided to jump in.”

Blake was silent for a second. “I … I suppose I’ve always been the kind to jump in, feet first. Or head first. It’s just who I am; it seems I can’t see a hopeless battle without wanting to hurl myself into it. Not that I think this battle is hopeless. It … it’s difficult, but it’s been won before, for years.”

“You mean it hasn’t been lost.”

“In this kind of fight, isn’t not losing the same as winning?” asked Blake. “If we hold our ground, if we preserve life and the kingdoms and the relics, isn’t that the equivalent of a win? Yes, Salem can always try again later, but … it doesn’t mean she hasn’t been beaten in the here and now. And in the meantime, the world changes. It gets better, it moves forward. And that’s a different kind of victory, maybe even the kind that I’m more interested in.”

Yang nodded. “I guess I can see that. I mean, personally, I prefer victories where you can see that you’ve won, preferably because the other guy is a mess on the floor at your feet, but I can certainly see that. But … Blake, can I ask you something about this fight you’re a part of, that Ruby’s a part of, about the work that you do for Ozpin?”

“Sure,” Blake said, “since you seem to know so much already, I don’t see the real harm in telling you more, if you want to know.”

“Did you know that they did stuff like what they were planning to do to Pyrrha?” asked Yang. “Did you know that that was the kind of thing they were involved in, that you’d be involved in?”

“No!” Blake said, her voice rising to match the firmness in her tone. “No, I had no idea about the machine, or about the Fall Maiden — I wasn’t even told about the Maidens; I had to find out from Sunset and the others. I … I would never be a part of something like that, not to Pyrrha, not to anyone.”

“But you are a part of it,” Yang said. “Aren’t you?”

Blake shivered. “I … I suppose that’s difficult to argue with, no matter how much I might want to. Is this another moment that makes you glad you’re not involved?”

“Is it better to stand on the sidelines while something awful happens?”

“It might not be better than standing on the inside while something awful happens, but it certainly makes you less morally culpable,” Blake murmured. “I’m not going to try and defend what Ozpin planned to do to Pyrrha; it was … indefensible. To sacrifice someone like that, and in that way, it … 'exploitation' hardly seems to begin to cover it.”

“You’re right,” Yang said. “I’m not involved. But my uncle is; he’s right there in the middle with Ozpin and General Ironwood, he knew all about this, and he was ready to go along with it. My own uncle, and he was going to do that to one of Ruby’s teammates, knowing the likely consequences. I just … I’m having a hard time remembering that the guy who was willing to do that is the same Uncle Qrow who got us tickets to the final of the Vytal Festival tournament.”

Blake said nothing. There was, she felt, very little that she could say, not knowing this Uncle Qrow at all, and with her not being a part of the family. Also holding her tongue was the fact that, well, Yang wasn’t exactly wrong, was she? It was, well, she had called it indefensible, and she had meant it. Blake would give her life for a just cause, if that was required — some might say that she would give her life even where it not required because some people worried too much, Rainbow Dash — but to give someone else’s life for the greater good … that was the logic of the slave owner, of Calliope Ferny and Jacques Schnee, of lives destroyed in the name of higher purpose.

Of course, that higher purpose was always decided for by someone other than the person doing the sacrifice.

Get into that machine yourself, Professor, before you ask Pyrrha to do so.

“The only thing that I can say,” Blake said, “is that Pyrrha is okay. Pyrrha is going to be okay because Sunset convinced Professor Ozpin not to go through with it, but to try something else. And that was only possible because Sunset was in Professor Ozpin’s confidence, because they … trusted one another. Imagine if Sunset had turned her nose up at working with Professor Ozpin because she didn’t trust him, because she had too many scruples, or for any other reason. Then Pyrrha would have had a stark choice, get in the machine or don’t, and there would have been no one to offer another way or convince Professor Ozpin to take it. Yes, standing aside means that you’re implicated in anything messy, but it’s only by being there, a part of something, that you can persuade the powers that be to maybe … not do it.”

“Is that why you’re going to Atlas?” Yang asked.

“That … is actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” Blake admitted. “I turned in my transfer request with General Ironwood a little while ago. All of this stuff with Pyrrha, it … it drove it out of my mind a little bit, or I would have told you sooner.”

“Honestly, it’s not like I’m surprised,” Yang said. She turned to face Blake, a smile on her face and laughter in her voice. “Apart from anything else, the way the Atlesians lifted you up on their shoulders and carried you around the courtyard was kind of a clue.”

Blake covered her mouth as she chuckled. “Yeah, that was … they can get a little enthusiastic.”

“Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing,” Yang said. “You’re worth getting a little enthusiastic over.”

“That … is a very kind sentiment with no grounding, considering that we’ve done nothing together,” Blake said, “but thank you anyway, although I don’t feel as though I deserve thanks, all things considered. I feel … are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay with this?” asked Yang. “What are you worried about?”

“The fact that I’m leaving you a team member down?” Blake suggested.

“Ah, don’t worry about it, me and Nora are both good enough to be worth one and a half huntresses each, at least,” Yang declared, pumping one fist as she said it. “And you were pretty clear up front when we took you in that you might be doing this, so it’s not like I can’t say that I wasn’t warned.” Yang sat down on her bed. “Do you know what the difference is between someone abandoning you, and someone walking their own path?”

Blake shook her head. “Not off the top of my head; fortunately, I have a feeling that you’re going to tell me.”

Yang smiled. “When someone abandons you, they don’t let you know ahead of time that they’re going to do it. They don’t say that they’re going to leave, they don’t explain why, they’re not up front that they have priorities and those priorities don’t include you. They don’t give you a choice between accepting them as they are, knowing that they’ll leave someday, or not. They’re just … gone one day, just like that, out of your life without a word, without a reason, leaving you to wonder what it was you did to push them away.” She got up off the bed and started to walk towards Blake. “Is this what you want?”

Blake nodded. “It is. I think in Atlas I can do the most good.”

“Then go for it!” Yang cried. “Live your life. Live your best life. Kick ass and knock ‘em dead.” She held out one hand. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get a chance to know you better, but if this is what you want, then who am I or Ren or Nora or anybody to stand in your way? It’s your life, and you can only live it once.”

Blake took her hand, feeling Yang’s fingers close about her with a firm grip. “Thank you for understanding. I … I’m sorry that we didn’t get more of a chance to be a real team too, but … this is where my road lies, I’m sure of it.”

“Even after everything you’ve been through there?” Yang said. “Everything you’ve seen?”

“Everything I’ve seen has convinced me that Atlas needs good people to do good,” Blake said. “It’s too important, and too powerful, to be left to the likes of Jacques Schnee or Calliope Ferny. There’s so much good that can be done in Atlas, so much that can be done with the power of Atlas … but only if we put ourselves out there and fight for it, only if we work within the system. Otherwise, it’s just like I said, we might have clean consciences, but that won’t stop these things from happening. I’m not going to walk away, not when I can stay and fight.”

Yang grinned. “And with that attitude, I’m sure you’ll go far.”

“I hope so,” Blake replied. “Plus … the people in Atlas make it worth sticking around for.”

“Well, that’s always a welcome bonus,” Yang agreed. Her face fell, the smile vanishing, her expression becoming more serious. “Have you told Sun yet?”

Blake hesitated for a moment, looking away from Yang. “No. No, I haven’t.”

Yang let go of Blake’s hand as her own hand fell down by her sound. “Okay, now that does annoy me, a lot more than the fact that you’re leaving this team. I told you the difference between abandoning someone and walking your own path; well, you’re abandoning Sun, and he deserves better.” She paused. “You know he really cares about you, but … you didn’t call him, you didn’t even text, he’s been here all on his own, and … do you know what’s been going on here since the Breach, while you’ve been gone?”

“You mean … the fact that people are turning against Atlas?”

“And the faunus,” Yang said. “I don’t think that Sun’s ever seen anything like it before; growing up in Vacuo, he’s been pretty sheltered from the whole thing. And then this, and the news from Atlas about the SDC … he’s taken it hard.”

Blake frowned. “How hard?”

“Talking about how the White Fang might not have completely the wrong idea hard,” Yang explained. “And he’s had no one that he can talk to about it because you left, and you haven’t tried to keep or get in touch with him at all. Did you even think about him at all when you were up in Atlas? Do you even care about him at all?”

There was a knock on the door that prevented Blake from responding.

“Hold that thought,” Yang said as she turned around and marched over to the door, her footsteps heavy upon the dorm room floor.

She flung the door open to reveal Sun on the other side.

“Hey, Sun!” Yang cried. “Speak of the beowolf.”

“Hey, Yang,” Sun said. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just on my way to carry on planning the big parade. Blake and I were just talking before I left.”

“Blake!” Sun cried — actually, no, crying was a bit too quiet for what he did — he yelled her name and stuck his head around the door to look at her. “Hey, Blake,” he repeated. “It’s … that is … I was hoping we could talk.”

“Be my guest,” Yang said, with almost inappropriate enthusiasm. “Like I said, I was just leaving.”

She grabbed Sun by the scruff of the neck and half dragged, half threw him into the YRBN dorm room and out of the corridor. He stumbled in, looking for a moment as though he was about to stumble so far in that he smacked straight into the window.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Yang declared cheerily, as she walked out of the room without another word, slamming the door shut loudly behind her.

I take your point, Yang, Blake thought.

She did need to have this conversation, however awkward it might be — and it did have the potential to turn awkward in a whole host of ways, if what Yang had said was true — because … because Yang was absolutely right. She had left Sun behind, and she was abandoning him, and she should have called, or if she wasn’t going to call, then she should have made that clear to him because … because he deserved better. He deserved better than someone who … someone who didn’t even take him for granted because the truth was that she didn’t even do that. If she had taken him for granted, then she would have come to find him when she got back, expecting him to be there waiting for her, but she hadn’t done that. She hadn’t even done that. She wasn’t taking him for granted, she was … she was acting like she didn’t care whether he waited or not because he didn’t matter to her.

Sun deserved better than that.

He deserved better than that because he was a really nice guy, because he was sweet and kind and funny and … and the truth was that Blake wasn’t sure if that was enough for her. The other thing that Yang had gotten right, one of many things that Yang had gotten right, was that Blake was on a path. She was on a journey. She had chosen her road, and she would walk it to the end. And that path … Blake wasn’t sure how Sun fit into that path, that path that led to Atlas, up through the ranks to power and control. That wasn’t what Sun wanted; she wasn’t sure what Sun wanted; Blake wasn’t sure if Sun was sure what Sun wanted.

But Blake … Blake couldn’t stop for him. She had to move forward, even if that meant walking alone.

But Yang was right, she should have told him that.

She did not tell him that, though. With something like this … she had no idea where to start.

And so the silence lingered in the room, the two of them not quite looking for one another.

“Hey,” Sun said, scratching the back of his neck with one hand.

“Hey,” Blake murmured, looking down at the floor.

Sun hesitated for a moment, before he said, “It’s good to see you again. You look well.”

“Thank you,” Blake said softly. “So do you.”

“Yeah, well,” Sun replied, shrugging his shoulders.

Blake closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Sun. I should have called, or texted, or I should have done something, and if I wasn’t going to do that, then I should have told you that I wasn’t, but I didn’t and I—”

“It’s fine,” Sun said.

“No, it isn’t—”

“It’s fine,” Sun repeated, his voice calm, not rising. “I … I talked to Rainbow Dash earlier, and she reminded me about Adam. As much as he seemed like a total creep to me, you … you loved him, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Blake whispered. “Or at least, I thought I did.”

“And then … then you had to … and then you—”

“Saw him die?” Blake suggested.

“Yeeeeeeah,” Sun said. “That. I guess that … that would … you went through a lot. And then you went to Atlas, and you went through a whole lot there, too.”

“I … suppose you could say that,” Blake replied. “I … Yang said … how are you doing, with the news from Atlas, with what’s been going on in Vale?”

Sun didn’t answer right away. Rather, he turned his back on her, walking towards Team YRBN’s bathroom. His monkey tail was drooped down behind him, trailing along the floor, not moving at all as though it had gone limp.

He reached the bathroom door, but instead of walking through it, he put his hands on the frame on either side of the door, leaning against it, back bending as his head bowed down.

“I feel like I’ve been a kid this whole time,” he said. “Like a kid, or asleep.”

“Because you’d never experienced anything like this before?” Blake asked.

“Because I didn’t even think it was possible,” Sun replied. “That faunus could be treated like that, that people could think like that, do that kind of thing. First the stuff in Vale, and then what you found in Atlas. Can I ask you something?”

“Are you going to ask me how I can wear an Atlas uniform?” Blake asked.

“Yes!” Sun said loudly. “Doesn’t it make you angry, what happened? I mean, you used to be with the White Fang—”

“When I first met you, you didn’t have a good word to say about the White Fang,” Blake pointed out.

“Yeah, but that was before,” Sun said. “I mean, even Rainbow admits the White Fang aren’t exactly wrong.”

Blake’s eyebrows rose. “Rainbow said that?”

“Rainbow said that the White Fang are right that the faunus are discriminated against, they just have no idea what to do about it,” Sun explained. “Is that what you think? Is that why you’re going to Atlas?”

“I’m going to Atlas for a lot of reasons,” Blake said. “I’m going because nonviolent protest didn’t work; and violent terrorism hasn’t worked and is immoral to go along with it; so why not try working within the system, being there where it counts, being in the room where it happens? I’m going because I have the right to go, because I’m a person, and faunus or not, I have as much right to wear the uniform of Atlas as anyone. I’m going because we can’t stand apart, or we’ll just encourage people to treat us differently. I’m going because I think that I can make a difference there, with the friends and connections I’ve made, with the things that I’ve done.

“And I’m going because … because it’s wonderful.” Blake said. “You should see it, Sun, it’s … it’s the most wonderful sight you’ve ever seen in your life, a city in the clouds, a shining city, a light in the sky, a testament to ingenuity and will, a … it’s marvellous, in every sense, it is a marvel, it’s … it’s amazing, and the people who live there — Rainbow’s friends, but also Weiss, who I got to know better while was in Atlas —I … I’ve never been anywhere else that made me feel quite like that.”

“Even with all its problems?” asked Sun.

Blake hesitated. “Atlas does have problems,” she admitted. “Great problems. But it has such great capacity too, and great virtues besides, and that gives me hope that the problems can be solved, and I want to be a part of that.”

“You want to be in the arena,” Sun said.

Blake nodded. “Yes. Yes, I suppose you could put it that way.”

Now it was Sun’s turn to nod. “I … I get where you’re coming from. I get it. I don’t agree with you, but I understand why you want this, and I believe that you think you’re doing the right thing.”

“But you don’t agree with me,” Blake repeated in a murmur.

“No,” Sun said. “Now, I admit that I only found out about all of these problems like a week ago or something, and I haven’t thought about them as long as you, but … these problems, they’re not in Atlas, are they? They’re in Mantle?”

“And Low Town.”

“But on the ground, not in the clouds.”

“That’s right,” Blake said quietly.

“Then isn’t there a danger that you’ll go to Atlas, this wonderful place up in the clouds, and you’ll forget all about the problems down below, because you can’t see them anymore?” asked Sun. “Isn’t that what everyone else does? Isn’t that why the problems were allowed to keep going for so long?”

“That … you might have a point,” Blake admitted. “But I won’t let that happen to me.”

“Are you sure?”

“What would you have me do instead?” Blake asked.

“I’m not telling you what to do,” Sun said quickly. “I’m not saying that you shouldn’t do it. You should. It’s what you want. It’s just not something that I could ever do, put on a uniform like that, take orders—”

“It’s not just taking orders,” Blake said. “It’s about being able to talk to the person who is giving the orders, and maybe talk them out of the bad ones. Atlas is going to exist whether I’m there or not. The difference is that, while I’m there, I can make a difference instead of decrying things from the outside.”

“Like the White Fang?”

“Well, if decrying was all the White Fang did, that would actually be an improvement,” muttered Blake.

Sun snorted. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He paused. “I’m not saying that you shouldn’t do what you want. I would never do that. You know what you want. You know what you want, and you're striding towards it; that … that’s pretty incredible, to be honest. It puts me in awe of you.”

Blake made a sort of gasping sound of disbelief. “I’m not that—”

“How many people our age know what they want to do and be and achieve with so much certainty as you?” Sun asked. “I didn’t, I…”

He scratched at the back of his neck again, and his tail appeared to perk up a little bit, rising up off the floor, twitching slightly from side to side. “It’s funny, you know; this year, I’ve been asking for advice on how to get closer to you, how to … how to close the gap between us because … because the truth is that I’ve always felt, I’ve always known, that I cared more about you than … than you—”

“That’s not—”

“Let me finish,” Sun said. “Please.”

Blake swallowed. “Of course,” she murmured. “Go on.”

Sun nodded. He paused for a moment or two. “I asked Sunset, and she told me that I ought to devote myself wholly to you like I was your servant or something.”

“I’m not sure I’d take Sunset’s romantic advice,” Blake said dryly.

Sun grinned. “And then I talked to Jaune, and he told me not to take that advice either, but to give you some space, not to bug you, not to make you think that I was obsessed. Only, I did that, and it didn’t really seem to help. Not the way I wanted it to anyway. And then, most recently, I spoke to Rainbow Dash, and she helped me to get it. You’ve known for a long time what you wanted, where you were going, and you’ve marched towards it like you weren’t gonna let anyone stand in your way, and that awed me, and it impressed me, and it made me think you were awesome, but what I should have done was let it inspire me, because the truth is … the truth is that you were walking towards your goal, and I wasn’t going anywhere at all, so if it felt like you were leaving me behind … who did I have to blame but myself?”

“Please tell me Rainbow didn’t tell you to blame yourself,” Blake said. “Because you don’t need to blame yourself for my issues, and if she did say that, then I will—”

“No, no, no, she didn’t say that; Rainbow said that I needed to work out who I was and what I wanted to be,” Sun said. “The other stuff, I managed to work out all on my own.”

“Then you worked it out wrong,” Blake said.

“Did I?” Sun asked.

“You…” Blake trailed off. “Not exactly,” she admitted. “I have known what I wanted, and I have aimed to get it. And I can’t … I can’t stop. I can’t turn away.”

“No,” Sun said. “I know. That’s why I’ve thought about it, and I have decided that I am going to move to Mantle.”

Blake blinked. “Come again.”

“I’m moving to Mantle,” Sun repeated.

“I heard you,” Blake said, “but I don’t understand.”

“You think that you can change the world from Atlas,” Sun said. “And that’s great, that’s your goal, and maybe you’ll do it. I’m sure that you’ll do it. But in the meantime, all the problems are in Mantle, down below, and while you’ve solved some of them, you can’t solve all of them from up there in Atlas, at least not right away.” Sun paused. “I’m not you. I don’t have a vision for a better world, I don’t have a grand plan, I don’t have the charisma that makes people want to help me, that makes all the Atlas students want to carry me around—”

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Nope,” Sun said, a smile breaking out across his face to make it brighter. “The point is that I’m not you. I’m not the kind of guy who can rise amongst the clouds. But I do know that people ought to treat each other well, that people ought to be safe, that they deserve to feel safe, to be safe, to know that someone cares about them and their problems … and I can be that guy, down in Mantle. Like you, like Rainbow said, it’s not the … it’s not the guy moaning who counts, talking about how awful things are, how awful Mantle is, it’s the guy who is willing to get stuck in and try to fix things, or at least stop them from getting worse. I can be that guy, down there, on the ground, and maybe … maybe while I’m down there, I can … keep you tethered, so that you don’t float away and forget all about us down below.”

Blake stared at him. That was not what she had expected him to say. That was not at all what she had expected him to say. She would never have expected Sun to say anything like that. It was unlike him.

And at the same time, it was completely like him. Yes, he’d never shown much interest in faunus rights before, but they’d met because he’d seen her, this complete stranger, someone he didn’t know, someone he had never spoken to before, and decided that she needed help, and he was going to help her. That was the kind of person he was, someone who saw those in need and jumped in.

“You realise what you’ll be giving up,” Blake said, “Haven, Neptune, your team—”

“Half my team hates me, and Neptune … yeah, it’ll be a pain to miss Neptune, but we can still call, right? And besides, sometimes, you have to give things up to do the right thing, right?”

Of course, that was also the kind of person he was, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to leave what he knew behind if that was what was required.

“And your schooling?” Blake asked. “You’ll never get licensed.”

“So?” Sun asked. “I can still help whether I’ve got a piece of paper or not.”

Well, there was the question of how legal his help would be without a license, but if he actually went through with this — and Blake had little doubt that he would go through with this — then perhaps she could pull some strings to get him licensed without having to graduate from an academy.

“You’re being very humble about the fact that you’re giving up everything for a city you don’t know and have never been to,” Blake told him.

“I’m giving up some stuff that doesn’t matter for a place that needs all the help it can get,” Sun replied.

“You don’t need to downplay it,” Blake told him. “What you’re proposing is so very … noble. It’s incredible, really.” She took a step towards him. “You are incredible.”

“You’ve inspired me.”

“No,” Blake said. “No, I can’t take any credit for this. None at all. This is all you.”

She stared at him. He had always been handsome and fair to look on, but now … now, it was like she was seeing him, if not for the first time, then in a whole new light, as though the clouds had parted to reveal the sun behind. She felt as though she were seeing him now not as a boy, but as a man, a man of conviction, ready to fight the good fight.

Of course, that man had always been there, but now … now, he had blossomed.

“What you’re doing,” she said, “the path you’ve chosen is as worthy as mine at least, as worthy as any student in Atlas Academy, maybe more, for you’ll be down there in the danger even as we’re still safe in school. You are … you’re so many virtues I could list that I don’t know where to start, so I’ll just say … I’ll just say that Atlas and Mantle aren’t so far away. Maybe I could fly down from the clouds to visit you on the ground, once in a while.”

She reached out towards him, but did not take his hands. Her ears drooped downwards in nervous anticipation. “If … if you’d like that.”

Sun stared at her, his blue eyes fixed on hers. He took a step closer to her. “You … you mean that?”

“I do,” Blake replied. “We … we may be walking on different roads, but they lie … our paths lie in parallel, and so I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t … reach out towards one another.”

She took his hands, and he did not protest, not even as she pulled them towards one another.

“And so,” Blake said, “even though I don’t deserve it, I’m asking you if … I’m asking you to reach back.”

Sun did not speak. He did not say a single word.

Instead, he surged forwards, gripping Blake’s hands as he kissed her fully on the lips.

And that was all the response that Blake required.

Comments

[ButtonMash]

This chapter seems to exist to solidify just how different this universe has become from RWBY’s canon, and I think to that end it’s done masterfully. There’s a lovely metaphor about Yang ‘giving Blake away’ as if to be married, which I think is a great homage to the ‘what could’ve been’ that the canon has become.

I find myself in awe for the umpteenth time that this fic has demonstrated its encyclopedic knowledge of the universe and its tropes, while simultaneously wielding them far more deftly than the source could ever claim to. Just… bravo.

[Kiue Jin]

I admit, I'm going to be curious at seeing how Sun is going to interact with the 'Merry Men' once he gets set up. Because I don't see him joining them, but at the same time I don't see him going against them for the most part either; If only in a 'I understand why you're doing the things you do. I don't agree with you, but I understand' kind of manner. Nor do I see the 'Merry Men' really having an issue with him due to a fact that he earnestly is trying to help in his own way, even if that manner is not theirs.

Maybe in the future Sun will be able to run for a Councilor seat? Since this version of Robyn is more a wanted criminal and likely wouldn't be allowed to run.

[Mastermind4892]

I've always been a Bumblebee fan from the start, but Sun has still been a good fit as well for Blake. She and Yang didn't click the same way due to other circumstances in this story, and so this fits quite beautifully! Just as Blake also makes incredible statements of resolve about the way forward here.

Except one, I'm afraid.

Get into that machine yourself, Professor, before you ask Pyrrha to do so.

I'm going to give Blake the benefit of the doubt and assume she didn't hear the critical detail about how the Maiden powers only transfer to women. Ozpin can't use the machine. I know what her deeper meaning is, but it's a straight miss with this as her example, and so it falls flat as a statement. Blake didn't know all the details here, Sunset and the others forgot to mention that important piece of the puzzle. That's why I will also forgive Blake for thinking that Ozpin and Ironwood's resigned last resort is comparable to Calliope Ferny and Jacques Schnee abusing their slaves for purely self-serving motives of profit.

[Plotbuster]

11546829
I agree in the main, but I am kind of sad that Yang and especially Weiss have been pushed so VERY far out of the spotlight. I expect the rest of the mane six will get more screentime, so to speak, once the focus of the story shifts more thoroughly onto Atlas, but Yang and Weiss seem quite thoroughly cut adrift. I guess Weiss might come more into the picture with the shift to Atlas as well, but honestly she just has no connection really to the movers and shakers of the story at this point. Perhaps the events of the Vytal festival will change that, but it doesn't seem likely to me.

It's definitely growing in an organic direction based on the changes in cast and events, but I still find myself mourning what's been lost just a little

[Lancerguy]

I feel like this chapter, while it does serve to take another swing at canon in which it joins a list I am beginning to lose count of, more so serves as a summery for this fit as a whole....

Everyone is trying to figure out who they are, who they want to be, and what they can uniquely contribute to the world, and they are all figuring it out on their own together.

[SnakeEye]

I saw it coming like a wall of bricks.
It stings a little still, Bumblebee being very much my favourite ship compared to Blacksun, at least Sun is more of a character here so that's nice.