Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

February, 2 weeks before Beacon

Yang woke up with a yawn, blinking her eyes open as sunlight spilled across her face.

Exhausted, she shuffled toward the door, eager to get first dibs on the shower—

Only to knock herself wide awake by walking straight into the iron bars where the door usually was.

Groaning from the floor, she rubbed her head as the memories started flooding back. “Oh… fuck…” she muttered, pushing herself up and pacing the length of the holding cell she was currently locked in.

“Okay. Okay! This is fine!” she said aloud. “Did I cause a teensy bit of property damage? Sure. Did people get hurt? A few, yeah—but none that didn’t deserve it. Is Junior a massive dick? Oh, undoubtedly.”

Yang gestured animatedly as she tried to rationalize her situation. “I mean, if he’d just told me what I wanted to know, nothing bad would’ve even happened. So honestly, this is really his fault! I used appropriate force! Just like she taught me!”

She planted her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest proudly—then deflated after about two seconds. “Brothers, she’s going to kill me…”

Yang dropped onto the bench, burying her face in her hands as she tried to recall what else happened last night.

‘Let’s see… after I landed here, I called Dad… took him a bit to calm down… airships were grounded for the night, so he said he’d take the first one in the morning… so that means he should be here soon…’

Just as she finished her mental recap, keys jingled and the cell door creaked open.

“Xiao-Long, you’re free to go,” said the officer.

Yang stood, cracked her neck, and flashed a big grin. “Well, it’s about time, am I right?”

As the officer stepped aside, Yang gave him a wink. “Thanks for the hospitality, Officer Jimmy!”

“My name’s Kyle.”

“Sure it is. Anyway, it’s through here, right?” she said, pushing open the next door—only to freeze in place.

The grin vanished instantly, replaced by sheer horror.

Waiting for her was not a disappointed-looking Taiyang Xiao-Long.

No, what stood there instead was a middle-aged woman with blonde hair messily tied into a bun, one stray curl hanging down the right side of her face. Oval-rimmed glasses framed tired eyes, dark circles shadowed beneath them. An oversized sweater and sweatpants did nothing to dull the furious glare she fixed on Yang—arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently against the floor.

Yang paled, gulping audibly. She slowly turned toward the officer, who wore an amused half-smile—though the sweat on his brow suggested he was just as uneasy in the presence of Beacon Academy’s Deputy Headmistress.

“Officer Kyle, would you mind if—”

“Out!” hissed her stepmother, Glynda Goodwitch-Xiao-Long. “Now!”

The atmosphere in the car was tense.

Not even the taxi driver dared to make conversation—not after seeing the permanent glare on Goodwitch’s face and the expression of pure, mortal fear on Yang’s.

Thankfully, it was one of the bigger taxis, so Yang had managed to fit Bumblebee in the back instead of leaving it behind. She’d tried suggesting they could just ride it to the station themselves, but Glynda hadn’t even acknowledged her existence—just kept furiously typing on her scroll to order the ride.

Knowing her fate would be sealed the moment she stepped out of the van, Yang risked a glance toward her stepmother and forced a nervous smile.

“So… uh… how’s your morning been?” she ventured.

Yang could’ve sworn she heard the driver whimper and sink deeper into his seat. Glynda’s glare somehow intensified, but she said nothing.

Yang tapped her knees a few times, humming to herself, desperate to fill the silence. No response.

Eventually, she slumped back into her seat with a resigned sigh.

Well, maybe she’d at least be safe—relatively safe—until the airship landed in Patch. Maybe the airship station would be too full for a proper shakedown. Maybe, just maybe, she could survive until they got into their truck that always waits for them at the Patch station.

“Of course not…” Yang muttered, her head resting on the café table while Glynda sat across from her, calmly sipping her coffee.

It was so early in the morning that the airship station was practically empty. On top of that, their flight to Patch was delayed.

“How… how is it delayed?” Yang whined. “Are there seriously that few pilots in the area? I know it’s early, but still…”

Glynda let her ramble, wordlessly finishing her drink.

“And I know Patch is an island and not exactly convenient to fly out to, but—”

Glynda slammed the now-empty cup down on the small round table, cutting Yang off instantly.

“Would you like to explain to me,” Glynda said, dangerously calm, “what… exactly… happened last night?”

Slowly lifting her head, sweat trickling down her face, Yang tried to muster a nervous smile. “Um… well, I… you see…”

Glynda was not amused. After a full minute of watching Yang squirm, she leaned forward.

“Here’s what happened from my side,” she began. “Before Tai or I got home last night—on a Friday evening, mind you—you left with your bike for Vale City, promising Ruby you’d be home after dinner.”

Yang gaped, eyes widening, but Glynda continued, leaning in closer.

“Instead of coming home, you spent the evening driving from a remote airship station, ensuring our paths would never cross, all the way to Vale City. To a club.”

Yang leaned back as Glynda’s fury grew.

“And instead of partying the night away—which, frankly, would have been the preferred excuse for why you made your father, your sister, and me worry—you decided to destroy the place, injure several employees, and get yourself arrested.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Yang noticed a few chairs and tables begin to levitate, but before she could comment, Glynda leaned in until their faces were inches apart.

“Never mind that this is exactly two weeks before you’re supposed to start studying at Beacon Academy,” Glynda hissed. “So please—enlighten me, O Daughter Mine—what happened?”

Yang froze under her glare. When Glynda finally leaned back into her chair and released her telekinetic grip—sending the furniture clattering back down—Yang spoke up, barely above a whisper.

“...Junior is an information broker,” she muttered, refusing to meet Glynda’s eyes.

Glynda blinked, confusion flickering across her face. “What? Why would you need one of those?”

Then she remembered the wooden board under Yang’s bed—the one Ruby had shown her months ago.

Her glare softened, but only slightly. “And?” she asked slowly. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Yang shook her head. “He knew something, though. He just wouldn’t tell me. Clammed up when I showed him her picture.”

Glynda studied her daughter, who hung her head and clenched her fists.

“So when he gave you an answer you didn’t like,” Glynda said evenly, “you decided—on your own—to use the techniques I’ve been teaching you since childhood to destroy his establishment. Because you were angry?”

Yang spun toward her, eyes red. “It wasn’t like that! He threatened me! I was just—”

“You grabbed his groin and threatened him in front of his employees, Yang. It’s honestly a wonder sexual harassment wasn’t added to the charges.”

Yang flushed scarlet and sank lower in her seat. “I was just… so close…”

Glynda exhaled, finally lowering her glare. “Yang, I know I promised I wouldn’t interfere in your search… but I can’t sit by and watch you become a criminal along the way.”

Yang looked up, guilt shadowing her expression. “I know… I’m sorry, it’s just—he might have known where she was, and…”

“And you lost your cool. Again.” Glynda finished for her. “Which is why, when you’re at Beacon, we’re going to be working on that… together.”

Yang blinked. “Yeah, I—wait, what?!” She whipped around to face Glynda, eyes wide. “You mean… I’m still going?”

Glynda nodded, face unreadable. “Ozpin heard about what happened and called me while I was flying over. He offered a deal, one he extended to the authorities, which they accepted—he’ll take full jurisdiction over your punishment once you’re enrolled at Beacon. Whether that means community service, reduced privileges, dorm confinement… I don’t know. As your legal guardian, I accepted on your behalf, because I already knew what your answer would be.”

Yang’s mouth fell open in disbelief and joy, her body halfway into a hug before Glynda raised a hand to stop her.

“I want to make one thing absolutely clear,” Glynda said firmly. “If it were up to me, I would’ve delayed your admission by at least a year. But… the last time I tried to control your life, things didn’t go so well.”

Yang winced, guilt flickering across her face. “Yeah…” she murmured.

“However,” Glynda continued, her tone sharpening again, “I can still keep you from participating in initiation. So I want you to make me a promise.”

Yang nodded cautiously. “Um… okay?”

“Promise me…” Glynda said, her voice softening, “please promise me that while you’re a student at Beacon… you’ll stop your search for Raven.”

Yang’s eyes widened. “But—”

“Yang,” Glynda said gently, gripping her hands, “I know why you’re looking for her. I know you think it’ll bring closure—not just for you, but for you and I, and Tai too. But last night, you almost became a criminal. You almost threw everything away because of her. So please, promise me—just while you’re at Beacon. After that, you can do whatever you want.”

Yang swallowed hard, meeting the fear in Glynda’s eyes—fear for her, not of her. Slowly, she nodded. “I promise.”

Glynda released her hands and gave a small, weary nod. “Then… we have a deal.”

The airship was practically empty.

“You and I both know you’re not going to be getting back on that bike for a very, very long time, correct?” Glynda said, nodding toward Bumblebee.

Yang snorted. “Yeah… figured as much.”

Glynda shook her head with a small smile as they leaned against each other when the airship landed.

Once they were on the ground, she used her Semblance to lift the bike onto the back of their old pickup truck, then climbed into the driver’s seat.

As they pulled away from the airship station, Yang glanced over. “So… how’s Ruby? And Dad?”

Glynda sighed. “Well, your father was more concerned about whether you were hurt by those—quote—‘absolutely despicable excuses for members of society.’ Which is why I was the one to pick you up.”

Yang giggled. “Makes sense… didn’t want to risk me getting off too easily, huh?”

Glynda grimaced. “Ruby, however, was up all night crying to Jaune, worrying about what she’d do if her sister turned out to be a criminal.”

“Oh… shit…” Yang muttered. “I—”

“Didn’t realize the consequences your actions would have on those around you?” Glynda supplied smoothly.

Yang shot her a glare but deflated almost immediately. “Yeah… pretty much…”

Then realization hit her. “Wait… Jaune knows?”

Glynda nodded, a faint trace of amusement in her voice. “Oh yes. When Ruby called him in the middle of the night, he spent the entire time trying to cheer her up.”

Yang gaped, her face turning crimson before she spun toward the window to hide it.

“...Fuck.”

The second they arrived home, Glynda immediately began levitating the bike into the garage and locked it behind her—leaving Yang alone to tank the black-and-red missile of petals hurtling toward her with a shrill, “YAAAAAAANG!”

Ruby slammed into her like a rocket, knocking her flat onto the ground.

When the daze finally cleared, Yang looked down at her attacker—and guilt crashed down on her like a wave as she stared into her sister’s tearful eyes.

“I w-w-was so w-worried, a-a-and I c-c-couldn’t s-s-sleep, a-a—” was all Ruby managed before Yang pulled her into a tight hug.

“Hey, hey, Rubes… don’t worry. I’m fine. I’m here now,” Yang whispered, rocking her back and forth like a baby. “I’m so, so sorry for worrying you, sis.”

Ruby cried in her arms until exhaustion took over, finally passing out against her shoulder.

“It’s not just her you need to apologize for keeping up,” Glynda said as she walked by, her tone stern but calm.

Yang sighed, forcing down the heat rising in her cheeks. “Yeah… yeah, I know,” she muttered, already dreading the look Jaune would give her later. Anger? Disappointment? Sadness? She deserved all of it.

Glynda opened the door, and Yang stepped inside—Ruby still clinging to her like a koala in her sleep.

Before she could set Ruby down on the couch, a sharp woof! came from around the corner, followed by an ecstatic blur of fur.

“Zwei!” Yang yelped—just as Ruby startled awake, knocking her head straight into Yang’s chin.

Glynda winced as both sisters collapsed to the hardwood floor, groaning, while Zwei divided his apologetic licks between the two of them.

Hearing the commotion from the kitchen, Tai—wearing a large pink apron the girls had given him for his birthday—peeked around the corner. “Honey?! Is that you? Is Yang—YANG!”

Still dazed on the ground, Yang suddenly found herself hoisted upright by two strong arms as her father began to fuss over her.

“What happened? Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Did they—”

He stopped when Yang threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

“...I’m so sorry, Dad… I-I really messed up this time,” she whispered.

Tai looked toward his wife, who watched silently with a heavy expression, then sighed and hugged Yang back. They stayed that way for a long moment—until, in true Tai fashion, he broke the silence.

“...Did you win?”

“TAI!” Glynda snapped, as if he’d just committed the greatest scandal since the Atlas Council Incident of ’87.

“What? I mean—”

From the floor between them came a tired groan. “Yeah, I’m okay too… don’t mind me…” Ruby deadpanned, still enduring Zwei’s relentless affection.

“Oh! Sorry, Little Reaper,” Tai chuckled, crouching down to scoop her up. “Let’s get you back up.” He kissed her forehead, and Ruby’s eyes immediately drooped shut again.

“I’ll get her to bed and come back down,” Yang murmured, shifting Ruby onto her back in a piggyback carry before heading upstairs.

Just as she reached the landing, Tai cleared his throat. “Yang? Don’t you have something to say?”

Yang paused, brow raised, then turned to her stepmother. “Thanks, Glynda. For everything.”

Glynda gave a small, tired smile. “We’ll talk more about what happened when you come back down.”

Yang nodded, then turned the corner and disappeared into her and Ruby’s room, closing the door behind her.

Once the sound of the door faded, Tai turned to Glynda. “Seriously? Even after everything, she’s still not—”

Glynda placed a hand on his shoulder and shook her head. “Tai, please. Stop trying to force this. It’s between her and me—and you know that.”

Tai sighed. “Yeah, but… it was still my fault…”

Glynda shook her head softly. “It was both of ours. What matters is that she’s still here… and she’ll be ready when she’s ready.”

“Here you go, Rubes — all safe and sound,” Yang whispered to herself, tucking Ruby into bed.

Ruby mumbled something about her ‘baby’ in her sleep and nuzzled deeper into her pillow.

Yang smiled softly at the sight before remembering how distraught Ruby had looked when she got home.

Gently brushing Ruby’s hair from her face, Yang almost started crying — reality finally sinking in as she realized how much she must have made her family worry.

“Rubes, I promise I’ll never give you a reason to look at me like that ever again,” she whispered, kissing her forehead before standing up to head back downstairs for breakfast…

And immediately tripping over Ruby’s aforementioned ‘baby’ (her scythe in resting mode) lying on the floor — and faceplanting with a solid thump!

“How many times am I gonna end up on the ground today…” she groaned, pushing herself back up.

As she stood, though, she heard a shuffle — and a groan — from somewhere else. She froze.

Yang turned, exhaling in relief when she saw Ruby still fast asleep. But when she heard another groan, this time coming from the scroll on Ruby’s desk, her stomach dropped.

“Ruby?... You still there?” came a half-asleep voice — one Yang recognized immediately.

Tiptoeing into the camera’s view, she offered a sheepish wave to the boy on the other side.

“Heeey, Jaune… Sorry to disappoint ya, but it’s just me,” she said with a nervous grin.

Jaune blinked, squinting blearily into the screen before his eyes widened, suddenly awake. “Ya—Yang?! Is that you?”

Still grinning nervously, Yang looked for something to lean on. Finding nothing but air, she pointed at the scroll like a finger gun. “How you been, Cereal Boy?”

‘Smooth’, she thought, blushing. ‘Reaaaal smooth.’

Jaune raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Oh, I don’t know, just a little tired since I had to stay up all night calming down your sister—”

Yang panicked, waving her hands in front of the scroll. “SH! Shhshshhshhhh…” she hissed, before angling it toward the sleeping Ruby.

“Oh… sorry…” Jaune whispered.

Yang slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her, and ducked into the empty bathroom across the hall.

“Here,” she said at a normal volume, setting the scroll on the counter and sitting on the closed toilet. “Now we can talk.”

When she looked back at Jaune, the irritation in his eyes had melted away — replaced only by worry.

“What happened, Yang?” he asked softly. There was no judgment, no pity.

Yang sighed, letting her bravado drop. “I messed up, Jaune. I messed up badly,” she choked out.

Jaune nodded for her to continue. She recounted the previous night — again — and even though Jaune was exhausted, he hung on to every word. When she finished, Jaune hummed thoughtfully.

“So wait — he’s the guy with the rocket launcher, but somehow you’re the one who wrecked the nightclub?”

Yang snickered. “Yep. But in my defense… he did mess with my hair.”

“Ah, of course! He dared to ruin the luscious locks of a fair maiden! The punishment was perfectly proportional to the crime!”

If Jaune noticed Yang’s blush, he didn’t say anything. With a toothy grin, she asked, “Aw, a fair maiden? You really think so?”

He froze, eyes wide, face red. “I… well… yeah, of course, I mean… um… you…”

Mid-stammer, he caught the glint in her eye and stopped, narrowing his own.

“You enjoyed watching me squirm, didn’t you?”

That did it — Yang burst out laughing, and Jaune couldn’t help joining in.

Eventually, they calmed down.

“So…” Jaune began, “what’s your next move?”

Yang frowned, remembering her promise to Glynda. “Actually… I think I’m gonna take a break from searching for a bit.”

Jaune blinked. “Wow, that is… surprisingly mature of you.”

Yang glared.

“I’m just saying,” Jaune rushed to explain, “you have a bit of a… stubborn streak that tends to lead you to—”

“Do things without considering the consequences of my actions?” Yang finished for him, deadpan.

Jaune sweatdropped. “Um… yeah. That.”

Yang sighed and sat up straighter. “It’s just… mo—Glynda really set things into perspective for me. How I almost messed everything up. My future, my family, my Beacon admission—”

At the word Beacon, Jaune stiffened. “Oh… you’re still going to Beacon?”

Yang narrowed her eyes. “Yeah… apparently Ozpin made a deal with the police to handle my punishment once I’m a student. And I promised mo—Glynda I’d stop looking for her while I’m there, so…”

Silence fell.

“You still can’t say it, can you?” Jaune asked gently.

Yang shook her head. “Not without meaning it. Wouldn’t be fair to her if I said it like that anyway.”

Jaune sighed. “Seriously? Even after everything?”

He shut up the moment Yang turned on him, eyes burning red. “Back off, Jaune. This is between her and me.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “You’re right, you’re right… not my place. Sorry.”

Yang’s eyes faded back to lilac as she slumped against the wall.

“How are you and Katy?” she asked, ignoring the little pang in her chest.

To her surprise, Jaune grimaced instead of smiling. “It’s… fine. Everything’s fine.”

Yang frowned. “Doesn’t sound too fine. You sure—”

He shot her a look, and she stopped.

“Right. Not my place either…” she muttered, sinking lower.

Silence returned.

“Ruby’s going out with Goodwitch next week before heading back to Beacon for the semester — and Ruby’s back to Signal. She was promised some comics and dust,” Yang said, and Jaune perked up.

“I would’ve gone with her,” Yang continued, “but… I doubt I’ll have much freedom these last two weeks before Beacon. Still, she’d probably love to see you there.”

To her surprise, Jaune stiffened again. “Ah, sorry, I can’t. I’ve got… this thing I need to do before Ambrose Paré. You know — medical school and all that…”

He frowned. “Just like Mom and Katy always wanted.”

Yang gave a soft smile. “Aw, cheer up, Cereal Boy. I’m sure you’ll convince her eventually.”

Jaune snorted. “Yeah, sure. ‘Hey Mom, remember that dream you’ve had for me since I was a kid? Yeah, not doing that. I’m actually gonna do the one thing you don’t want me to do.’ That’ll go great.”

Yang giggled. “Well, not if you say it like that! I bet if I promised to look after you, she’d agree.”

Jaune snorted again. “You? Really?”

Yang feigned offense. “Jaune Arc, are you implying I’m not trustworthy?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m saying she still hasn’t forgiven you for unlocking my Aura all those years ago. Otherwise, though, she loves you like another daughter.”

“Aww, thanks!”

“But I don’t think that’s gonna help my case.”

Yang smirked. “Damn, guess I won’t be seeing you at Beacon then, huh?”

Once again, Jaune stiffened. “Heheh… yep… sucks, doesn’t it?”

She squinted. “Okay, what’s going on with you? What are you hiding?”

Jaune’s eyes darted around. “Me? Nothing! Nothing at all! Ooh — actually, I can’t next week, I have this… thing for Ambrose Paré. Some, uh, medical files… stuff. It’sreallyboringdon’tworryaboutit.”

“You said that already,” Yang deadpanned. ‘He’s planning something.’

“Did I?” Jaune stammered, scratching the back of his head. “Well, I mean, nothing wrong with repeating it…”

Yang smirked, then started giggling. Jaune groaned. “Why do you enjoy making me suffer so much?”

“S-Sorry,” Yang managed between laughs. “I’ll stop.”

He yawned — a deep, bone-tired yawn. Yang’s teasing softened into a smile.

“I’ll let you get back to sleep, then, Jaune…” she whispered. His eyes were already closing.

“Oh, thank the gods,” he mumbled before slumping face-first onto the table.

Yang smiled at the sight. “Thanks, Jaune,” she whispered, ending the call.

She stood, stretched, and sighed. “Welp. Time to face the music.”

Chapter Text

11 Years before Beacon (Yang is 6, Ruby is 4)

Glynda had no idea what she was doing here.

Well, technically she did know. Ozpin had heard reports of someone matching the description of Raven Branwen in the area and needed to send someone to investigate. When she asked how credible these reports were, Ozpin admitted they were only rumors. But seeing how that was better than the complete silence they’d received since Summer’s death, it seemed worth checking out.

Glynda disagreed, but held her tongue. With the loss of Summer, everyone seemed to hold out hope for any form of good news. The reappearance of the missing member of STRQ would certainly count as such. Qrow was “busy” with something else apparently, so Glynda—who was already still in the field—volunteered for the mission. As she expected, she found no trace of Raven Branwen.

Unexpectedly, however, she found two familiar-looking little girls walking into the same abandoned building she was heading toward. Well, one was walking; the other was in a wagon. Narrowing her eyes, she wracked her brain, trying to remember where she had seen the girls before—until it hit her: those were the children from the pictures Tai and Summer always sent her. But why were they here?

Of course. Raven.

Before Glynda could call out for them to come out, screams erupted from inside. Her legs, already moving, accelerated, and she slammed the door open—to find them facing three Beowolves.

The girls were the priority. Both of them felt an invisible force lift them up and shoot them quickly—but gently—out the door again, which then slammed shut. Yang watched the door, frozen, covering Ruby with her body. The only things she heard were the roars of the Grimm, the occasional grunt, and the sounds of objects slamming against the walls and beasts. Eventually, the Grimm went quiet, and the door opened.

Glynda walked slowly out the door, completely unharmed, careful not to scare the children—at least, not scare them any more than they already were. Silver and lilac eyes full of tears stared up at her, and she immediately felt out of her depth. What would Summer do? Or Tai—?

Oh Brothers, where was Tai?

“Kids,” Glynda asked slowly, “where is your father?” Before she could say anything else, Yang charged into her, quietly sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” was all she could repeat.

Overwhelmed, Glynda gingerly wrapped one arm around the sobbing blonde and the other around the shaking girl in the wagon.

Glynda really had no idea what she was doing here.

She introduced herself as a friend of their parents from school on the way back to their cabin. When Ruby innocently asked, “Did you also like my dad like my mom did?” (According to their uncle, that tended to happen with “girl adults,” she said), Glynda snorted.

No, he was nothing but a silly friend—and an annoyance at times. Also, Glynda made a mental note to talk with Qrow about what exactly he was telling a four-year-old child.

Yang was silent the entire trip back, hugging Ruby like her life depended on it. Both of them were seated in the wagon while it floated a few inches off the ground.

Shortly before arriving back home, though, Yang spoke up.

“Mom wasn’t there, was she?…”

Glynda stopped and looked down at the girl. She wasn’t crying anymore. She just looked… defeated.

“No, child,” Glynda replied, not unkindly. “I’m sorry, but she was not.”

Yang sniffed. “Do you know where she is?”

Before Glynda could respond, however, the cabin came into view.

Glynda stayed silent, hoping that was enough of an answer for now.

Yang looked back down, softly saying, “Oh…”

When Ruby hugged Yang even tighter, Glynda’s heart broke. But she couldn’t think about that now, as she only had one thought on her mind:

Where the hell was Tai?

Knocking on the door, her worry only grew when it gently creaked open. Was he out looking for them? When she looked inside, her jaw dropped.

The house was a mess. The smell of alcohol filled the air, with empty bottles littering the floor. Stacked dirty dishes were piled in the kitchen sink, clearly untouched for days. The couch cushions had a giant stain, likely from when someone had thrown up on them.

This is where the kids live?

Before she could call out for Tai, she heard panicked shouts from the backyard.

“Yang! This isn’t funny! Where are you two?!”

Yang and Ruby gasped, jumped out of the still-floating wagon, and bolted out back.

“Daddy!” they both cried, tears of relief evident on their faces. When Glynda caught up to them, Tai was kneeling down, one arm around each of them tightly.

Only when he looked up did Glynda gasp.

He looked terrible—nothing like the (admittedly) handsome man he once was. Dark rings under his eyes, red from all the crying he’d done. He clearly hadn’t shaved in weeks, and his hair was much longer than it ever was during class. Somehow, though, he was still as muscular as ever—though his stomach was definitely gaining some mass.

This… all of this was just so… wrong.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you so much.”

Glynda, however, just nodded. “We need to talk.”

The girls were tucked into bed in their room, which was ironically one of the last remaining bastions of cleanliness in the cabin.

Tai was in the kitchen, making… something. At least he was trying to. Glynda kept catching mutters of “Yang moved it around again,” and “Where did Yang put it now?”

Tai peeked around the kitchen entrance, putting on a sheepish smile. “Heh, Yang’s been busy here.”

Glynda raised an eyebrow. “Not you?”

He flinched, to which Glynda just sighed. “Just sit down, Tai.”

The stove was turned off, and he shuffled to the couch. Glynda’s eyebrow twitched as he sat directly on the vomit stain without realizing—or without caring. It twitched again when she saw the opened bottle of beer in his hand.

“Really? After today, you’re drinking right in front of me?”

Tai must have already been a little drunk, because he didn’t get the message. He snorted, “If you think I’m bad, you should see Qrow.”

That was it. That was the final straw. Using her semblance, she grabbed the bottle from his hands and sent it flying out the window. Before he could protest, he found himself floating upside down and looking straight into her eyes.

“You think this is funny, Tai?!” she hissed. “You nearly lost both of your children to Grimm today. You had no idea they left until half an hour ago—when I brought them back! What if I wasn’t in the area? Would you have given up searching, gone back to your couch, and wallowed in self-pity some more? Is drinking your pain from the past more important than protecting your daughters from pain in the present? In the future?”

Tai at least had the decency to look guilty—before he glared back.

“How DARE you! You think you know what I’m going through? I lost my wife—”

“And they lost their mother! The only mother they’ve ever known, and when they looked to their father for guidance, he shut down on them. When that happens, do you know what children do?! They look for guidance somewhere else! Guess what they were doing when I found them?!”

At that, Tai looked confused. “What are you talking about? What were they…”

His eyes widened when realization struck.

“...Raven…”

Glynda dropped Tai on his head, ignoring his groans.

“They lost their mother, and in desperation, they tried looking for the next best thing. Because even though their father came home, on that day—that horrible, horrible day—they lost both their parents. And because of that, they almost lost their lives as well.”

When Tai didn’t speak, she continued. “I know you’re grieving, Tai. My heart aches every time I remember the friend I lost. But you have a responsibility to those children. No one is telling you that you cannot mourn her. But you cannot ignore the legacy she left behind. She loved you—all of you—too much for that to happen…”

She trailed off when she noticed he was shaking.

“Tai?” she asked worriedly. 'Did he hurt something when I dropped him?' Kneeling down, she very gently grabbed his hand and moved it from his face.

Tears were running down his cheeks as he quietly sobbed on the ground.

“Oh, Tai…” was all Glynda said before embracing him fully, letting him cry into her neck.

“I-I almost—Summer—she—”

“Shh, shh, shh…” Glynda whispered, as if consoling a child. A large, adult child. “I know, Tai. And I’m so sorry.”

“I miss her so much.”

“I know, Tai… we all do.”

They were sitting on the couch now, away from the stain. Tai was still in Glynda’s arms as she rubbed soothing circles on his back. She knew this position could lead to a lot of misunderstandings if they were “caught,” but that didn’t matter to her right now.

“Where’s Qrow?...”

He was silent a little longer before he answered. “...Burying himself in more missions. It’s all he can do to get his mind off of… everything…”

She hummed. “So he’s never around either?”

Tai flinched at the either, but moved on. “No, not really. It’s just… them.”

Them. The girls—Yang and Ruby—who were just six and four years old. Now without a mother… and barely with a father.

“Why didn’t you talk to anyone? Reach out for help?”

She realized she could ask herself the same thing. ‘Why didn’t I offer to help? To stop by? I had nothing else to do. It would’ve been foolish to assume Tai and the children would be okay so soon, but… I never would have thought things would be this bad. Does Qrow know about this? Ozpin?’

“I don’t know.”

‘I don’t know.’

For a while, they didn’t move. Neither of them dared to.

‘Well… I’m here now.’

Even later, though, Glynda moved to get up.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Tai. You need to get help.” Before he could protest again, Glynda used her semblance to gently lay him out on the couch alone and covered him with a blanket. “Not now. Now, you need sleep. Tomorrow, though, you are going to look for a place or a person to talk to about this. There are groups out there for those who’ve lost their partner fighting the good fight. You are going to do this for them, because you and I both know that they deserve better.”

He was staring at her in awe now, and she refused to drop her momentum.

“You are also going to quit drinking. All of this has to change. All of it. No half-measures. Meanwhile, I’m going to call Ozpin and tell him I’ll be too busy for missions for the foreseeable future. I will find a place to stay nearby, and until you are properly back on your own two feet, I will help around the house and with the girls. I will cook for them, I will teach them, I will clean the house, and—and—and whatever else they need help with.”

Both of them could tell whatever bravado Glynda started with was quickly running out. Yet she continued.

“I will not get in the way of you and your children. But only if you promise me that you will make an honest effort to get better. Because I cannot ignore what I’ve seen today, and as your friend, I will step in if it gets worse. Are we clear?”

Glynda’s face was warm as she ended her tirade with her finger in Tai’s face. Before he could acknowledge what she said, she spun around and walked toward the door.

“Wait!” Tai cried out, regretting the speed with which he got up from the couch as he felt the contents of his stomach threatening to spill out.

Glynda stopped, her hand on the doorknob, and turned back to him.

“You don’t need to find a place to stay,” he stammered out. “We… have a guest room.”

She blinked, her mouth forming an O-shape—before she smiled and walked back in.

For what seemed like the first time today, Glynda felt like she understood why she was here.

Day 1

Yang woke up late in the morning. The old her would’ve slept even longer, but she couldn’t sleep last night. How could she? She had nearly gotten her sister killed yesterday, all because she had been selfish. She had decided alone that a rumor about her mom was worth leaving everyone behind, and the consequences of that selfishness were almost fatal.

So last night, she had an epiphany. If Raven wasn’t going to be around, and Mom wasn’t coming back, and Dad wasn’t going to help… then she’d be Ruby’s mom. 

‘It’ll be tough work,’ she thought, ‘but I’ll never let what happened to Ruby yesterday ever happen again!’

So, she slapped herself awake, jumped out of bed, and headed downstairs to find…

Everything already… cleaned?

What happened? Where had all the bottles gone? The couch cushions were gone too!

Yang ran into the kitchen. The dishes were gone! She was flabbergasted. Had someone stolen everything?

She walked around the house some more, until she realized the front door was slightly ajar. Curious! This mystery kept getting more… mystery-y!

As she got closer, she heard someone humming outside. Aha! The culprit must still be here!

She crouched slightly and started tiptoeing her way to the door. The humming continued. When she got there, Yang slammed the door wide open.

“Stop, thief!” she shouted—before a trash bag fell on her head.

Glynda woke up early to see Tai off and to reassure him she’d be alright. That they’d be alright. Tai was still hesitant; after all, Glynda had never had to take care of her own kids before. Nevertheless, he did agree to get help, and that was what he was planning to do.

Her next order of business: calling Ozpin. When she shared the state of the Xiao-Long-Rose household with the headmaster of Beacon, he looked horrified, disappointed, and guilty. 

“I hope you can understand why I will be busy for a while…”

“Of course, Glynda. Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you. Please, tell Qrow what happened. The girls need all the family they can get right now.”

“…I will.”

After that, Glynda got to work. First order of business: the bottles. Cleaning the house made her realize just how easy her semblance made life for her. What would’ve taken maybe thirty minutes—picking up every bottle and bringing them out to the correct waste bin—was done in less than one, all of them essentially floating in a line outside. Next came… everything else.

Week-old dishes she was familiar with. Give her a break; she’d lived alone in an apartment ever since graduation. Not everyone had what was essentially an army of in-laws or a whole castle at their beck and call.

The couch… needed to go. At least the cushions did. She already had some ideas for a replacement that she’d bring up with Tai when he got home.

When Glynda found the rest of Tai and Qrow’s alcohol, she scowled.

A minute later, the Ursas in the forest of Patch roared at the bottles seemingly falling out of the sky.

They stopped roaring when they got a taste of what was inside.

Later, with the vacuum running and the broom sweeping, Glynda gathered the remaining trash into bags and floated them out the front. Humming to herself with a sense of accomplishment, she opened the bin and slowly levitated the bags inside.

The door slammed open. “Stop, thief!”

Glynda shrieked and dropped her concentration. The vacuum fell over, still running. The broom clattered to the ground, with the dustpan being knocked into the air, the contents being spread once again. The trash bags all fell to the ground with a thump, one of them ripping open, another landing on top of her attacker.

“Oh no, Yang! Are you alright?!” Glynda rushed toward the dazed little girl, who fell backward onto her behind, to make sure she wasn’t injured. Thankfully, the bag that fell on her was only full of paper, so nothing hard landed on her. Still, she could’ve bent her neck, or landed on her head, or…

“You’re still here?”

Glynda’s train of thought halted. Yang was looking up at her while rubbing her head.

“Er, well yes. Your father… After yesterday decided that things needed to change, so I volunteered to stay and help.”

Yang frowned. “Like how Mom did at first?”

Glynda shook her head and smiled. “If you’re thinking that I’m going to be giving you another sibling, you won’t have to worry about that. Once your father is better, I will be on my way. I have my own life to get back to after all.”

“You do?”

Glynda’s eyebrow twitched, and her smile became strained. “Yes, I do. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure you and Ruby are just fine in the meantime.”

Yang stared back at her, her face lacking any emotion. Eventually, she just shrugged. “Ok,” she said, before turning around and walking back inside.

‘I guess I can go back to sleep after all.’

Day 3

“That’s not how you make Mom’s cookies.”

Glynda looked down at Ruby. The four-year-old and she were alone at home. Yang was at school, and Tai was still looking for a Hunters Anonymous group he liked. Glynda could tell he was struggling with going full cold turkey, but she had to admit it was impressive how well he tried to hide it in front of the girls.

Speaking of the girls, she focused back on Ruby. “What do you mean?”

Ruby pouted. “Mom used more sugar than that.”

Glynda frowned. “Did she now?”

Ruby got up from the stool and walked around her, opening a cabinet near the ground and pulling out a binder. From the binder, she brought out a paper and gave it to Glynda.

Written in Summer’s handwriting was a list of ingredients and the amount of each needed for one batch of cookies. Underlined at the top were the words Xiao-Long-Rose Family Recipe.

Glynda swallowed and looked back at Ruby, who shrugged. “Yang makes them sometimes.”

Feeling like she had just been given knowledge she was unworthy of, she gently patted Ruby’s head. “How about I make my cookies first, and then we’ll make your mom’s, and have them both?”

The little girl brightened. “Okay!” and ran out into the living room with a “Wheeeee!”

Glynda watched her run out while shaking her head fondly.

Both of them were sitting on the couch, feet on the table (Ruby promised that Dad “always let her put her feet on the table.” She doubted this was the case, but Tai didn’t need to know everything. He certainly didn’t need to know about the sheer amount of cookies Ruby ate today).

“Mom’s cookies are better.”

Erk. She forgot how blunt kids were.

But she wasn’t wrong. They really were better.

Day 15

When Tai came home that night and told her that he had found a group, Glynda was ecstatic. He almost suggested a drink and a toast to celebrate, but fought the temptation and suggested eating out instead.

While waiting to be seated at the Mistralian-themed restaurant, Yang excitedly regaled them with the day’s events.

“…and then Kai and Jay got into this huge fight, but Mister Wu was like, ‘Boys! Stop fighting!’” (Ruby giggled at the impression.) “Later, though, Kai and Jay were all buddy-buddy, and when I asked Mister Wu what he did to make them stop fighting, all he said was, ‘I only told them that the best way to defeat your enemy is to make them your friend.’”

“Hm,” Glynda nodded. “This Mister Wu seems very wise.”

“Nah! He always forgets to tell us important things. Probably because he’s so old.”

“Yang, Yang!” Ruby asked, bouncing up and down. “What were they fighting about?”

Yang put a finger to her chin, face scrunching up in thought, trying to remember. “I don’t know. I think it was over some girl?”

“A girl? Really?”

“Well kids, always remember,” Tai chuckled, “people have fought wars over a pretty girl before.”

Glynda looked over at him and noted how he already looked a lot better. He still always looked a little tired, but the bags under his eyes were barely noticeable. He had shaved in between again, and while he still hadn’t gotten a haircut, he did tie the extra length together in a short ponytail.

When it was their turn to talk to the host, he smiled. “Welcome, family of four?”

Tai ignored the implication and went along with it—something that didn’t go unnoticed by Glynda and Yang. Following the host to their table, Glynda lost herself in thought. ‘I guess I can see why a stranger would be confused.’ When they sat down, however, Yang snapped her out of it.

“We’re not, though.”

“Eh?”

She kept reading the menu, not looking up at Glynda. “We’re not a family,” she repeated.

“Yang! That’s not very nice!” Tai scolded.

But she wasn’t wrong. They weren’t really family.

The front door was open when they got home. Glynda’s Huntress instincts kicked in, gesturing for the girls to get behind her. Ruby hugged her leg, while Yang chose to hide behind her father, fists at the ready.

When they got closer, they heard someone cursing inside:

“Shit, where did Tai put the good stu—crash—Oh c’mon, semblance not now—AGH!—Another crash…. Owww…”

Tai and Glynda turned to each other. Is that…?

They pushed open the door and turned on the lights. Lo and behold, the face-planted, butt-up form of Qrow Branwen was there, along with a somehow completely flipped-over coffee table and a lamp nowhere near his arm’s reach down the hall.

“Hey girls…” he moaned into the carpet. Based on his lack of shame from the situation, they had probably caught him like this before.

“UNCLE QROW!” they both screamed, tackling him. Laughing and rolling over, he made sure they didn’t hit any of the furniture.

“Where were you guys? I came home and no one was around! Tai wasn’t even on the couch anymore!”

Ruby was the only one whose mood didn’t falter at the jab. “We were out celebrating together!”

Qrow raised his eyebrow in confusion. “Celebrating? Celebrating what?”

This time Glynda spoke up. “His first step in recovery.”

Qrow finally noticed her. “Glynda? What are you doing here?” He then looked to Tai, who offered a sheepish wave of his hand, and then back to Glynda, who was still glaring at him.

Qrow turned back to Tai, anger on his face. “There’s no way. There’s no fucking way this is happening. What about Sum—”

“Qrow!” Tai hissed, covering Ruby’s ears. “It’s not what you think.”

He looked back between them. No blush from the implication on Glynda, whose glare only grew more intense, and no look of shame on Tai. He calmed down slightly but kept looking suspiciously between them.

“Alright…” he admitted, “but clearly we have a lot to talk about.”

“You did what, Tai?!”

Qrow jumped up, grabbing Tai by the shirt collar and shaking him back and forth.

“Qrow…” Glynda warned dangerously, but she was ignored.

“No, Glynda! He needs to understand how badly he fucked up here! If Summer were here—”

“Summer isn’t here!” Tai shouted, glaring right back at Qrow. “Raven left, Summer died, and I… I wasn’t here either. I was barely here in body, not in spirit. I already know Qrow. Besides, you’re one to talk—you’re never even around!”

This time, Qrow was the one who flinched. “They’re not my kids, Tai! You’re the one who decided to have them! Or was that an accident too, just like how you almost accidentally lo—”

“GENTLEMEN!” Glynda shouted, having two chairs push them from behind to force them into their seats. “How about we calm down before we say something we’ll regret?”

Both of them glanced at each other before deflating. Before either could speak, Glynda, who remained standing, spoke again.

“Qrow, Tai has already recognized the error of his ways and has dedicated himself to his recovery. He has just joined a Hunters Anonymous group, where he will meet weekly with other Hunters and Huntresses facing similar challenges. He is also trying to live sober and has removed all alcohol from the household. Trust me when I say this: he is taking this matter very seriously.”

Qrow, despite the severity of the situation, looked aghast. “…All the alcohol, you say?”

Even though Tai let out a snort, Glynda didn’t seem to find it funny. “Yes, Qrow. All of it. Tai cares enough to recognize when he needs to shape up after breaking down, instead of continuing to run from his problems.”

The air grew cold. Tai suddenly felt out of place. Qrow narrowed his eyes towards her. “What are you implying?”

Glynda realized she had touched a nerve but didn’t particularly care.

“Tai told me how you’ve been ‘coping.’ Taking every mission you can get from Ozpin, racking up tabs into the thousands at bars across Remnant. You disappear for weeks, barely stopping by to say hello to your nieces, and when you break in here—to an empty home—your first priority is simply to have another drink.”

Qrow and Tai watched in fear as Glynda’s rant gained intensity, but she showed no sign of stopping.

“Then you have the audacity to scream at Tai, as if you are handling any of this better than he was. Why weren’t you there to rescue your nieces from the Grimm, Qrow? Hm? Why is taking a mission all the way in Vacuo so important to you, when you knew how bad things were getting here?”

Qrow jumped up, trying to defend himself, then stopped in confusion. “How’d you know about Vacuo?”

Glynda threw her hands up in exasperation. “Because Ozpin tried to get me to take the same damn mission, even though I told him I’d be busy taking care of the girls! Qrow, you are not Ozpin’s only agent—you don’t need to do everything he asks of you.”

Qrow stared back in shock. “…Ozpin knew?”

Now it was Glynda’s turn to be confused.

“Of course Ozpin knows. He was supposed to… tell… you…” The realization hit her. “He never told you.” She turned to Tai, who had reached the same conclusion. That explained Qrow’s anger—this was the first time he had heard about it.

Qrow’s expression grew muted. “No, he didn’t.”

Glynda stumbled back in her chair. “He never told you? I called him the morning after, and he promised he would.”

Tai frowned. “Were you on a mission? Too busy to get in touch with him?”

Qrow shook his head. “No. I was… in Atlas, actually.”

Glynda and Tai both stared at him.

“Atlas? You hate Atlas.”

He snorted. “Thanks, Glynda. I never noticed. Why didn’t he…?”

The three of them stared down at the table, wishing they had a drink in hand.

Qrow was gone the next morning.

Day 30

Yang came home crying today. Her eyes were red, and she refused to look directly at Glynda or her father. She threw her backpack to the side of the door, stomped upstairs, and slammed the door behind her.

Tai and Glynda looked at each other.

"I'll handle it," he said. Glynda just nodded. This was not her place, after all. Yang had made that abundantly clear.

When he knocked, all he got from the room was, "Go away…"

He opened the door anyway and found her seated at the end of her bed. Tai slowly moved to sit next to her and put an arm around her shoulder.

"What's wrong, Firecracker?"

Yang just sniffled some more. "Why is she still here?"

Tai frowned. "Glynda? She's helping me remember?"

Now she turned to her dad, eyes red from more than just crying. "How? You're better now, right?! She doesn't need to be here anymore, so why doesn't she just leave?! I hate her!"

Tai was too surprised to speak.

"I've heard you and Uncle Qrow talk about my mom, how she left. What if she wants to come back, but Ms. Glynda is getting in her way?! W-What if Mom thinks she's been replaced?! Is that why she's not here?!"

Before Yang could cry some more, Tai wrapped both his arms around her.

"Oh, Yang…"

Yang just bawled into his chest.

Eventually, she calmed down enough to talk.

"Yang, why would you think something like that?"

She sniffled some more, rubbed her eyes, and looked up at Tai. "At school… all the kids keep getting dropped off by their moms… and one of them asked me why I always walk alone to school… and-and then, and then I—"

"Woah, okay Firecracker, breathe for me. Can you do that?"

She nodded and took a deep breath.

"Okay, so all the kids keep showing up with their moms, correct?"

She nodded mutely.

Tai continued, "Do they call you names?"

She shook her head. "No, but… why can't Mom walk me to school?"

Tai ignored the annoyance he felt every time Yang called Raven "Mom." Instead, he gently rubbed her back and suggested, "What if I walk you to school from now on? Would that help?"

She shrugged. "I don't know… maybe…"

He smiled. "How about we try it tomorrow and see how we like it, okay?"

She thought for a second before nodding slowly again. "...Okay…"

Tai and Yang stayed seated together on her bed in silence for a couple of minutes before he spoke up again.

"Yang… do you really hate Ms. Glynda?"

Yang frowned, opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again. "I mean… not really, I guess… she's helping you, right?"

Tai nodded. "Yeah, and she's only doing it because she can. She's not doing it to get anything out of it; she's just being a good friend. She really wants to be your friend too. Can you try to do that?"

Yang removed her face from his chest and looked up at him. "B-b-but you're better now, right? She can leave?"

He sighed. "Yang, it's not that simple." He gently lifted her off his lap and set her down next to him.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

She nodded.

"Remember how I told you I stopped drinking?"

Yang nodded again, hesitantly. "Is that why Uncle Qrow stopped coming?"

He flinched. ‘Oh boy, that also needs to be taken care of at some point.’ "Kind of. Well, the thing is… I lied."

Her eyes widened, but she didn't say anything.

"Last week, during a meeting, we talked a lot. About—about Summer. And it was a lot for me. I couldn't handle it, so instead of going home, I went to a bar. Just one drink, I said. Then I had another, and another, and another…"

Yang just listened and nodded.

"Glynda had to come pick me up. You should've seen me, floating like a ragdoll down the road. I barely remember getting home myself. The next morning, Glynda was waiting in the kitchen for me. She turned to look at me, and all she said was, 'You'll do better next time.'"

Yang blinked. "That's it?"

Tai nodded. "Yep, that's it. As if that was a fact. And she was right—it did get easier. Yesterday's meeting was a lot better. In between, I still had the urge to drink something, but I remembered what she said—how she had total confidence in me. So I went straight home."

He turned and smiled at her. "And I'm glad I did, because we had a lot of fun last night, didn't we?"

Yang giggled. "You're really bad at Apologies, Dad."

Tai laughed. "No, you're just way too good, kiddo."

They laughed together for a bit. When they calmed down, Tai turned back to her. "My point is, Yang, sadly I'm not really better yet. But Glynda, along with you two, are making it easier for me. So, could you maybe give her a chance? For me?"

Yang still looked hesitant but nodded. "Alright, Dad. For you."

They stayed upstairs a little longer.

Downstairs, Glynda decided to get started on dinner. Ruby excitedly volunteered to help her, but Glynda didn't have the heart to tell her that her semblance already trivialized the entire process. So instead, she just let the little girl read off the recipe card and smiled as the girl "ooohed" in wonder at the eggs cracking themselves and the whisk spinning through the air.

"I don't think Yang has a lot of friends."

That was not what Glynda was expecting from the four-year-old. She put her own knife down and turned to her. "What do you mean?"

Ruby shrugged, continuing to watch the meal literally make itself.

"She never tells me any stories anymore, like that one about Kai and Jay from school."

Glynda blinked. That… was true, wasn't it? Granted, Yang didn't speak much about anything with her, but Glynda chalked that up to Yang not having the highest opinion of her. She wasn't a stranger anymore, but she still kept her distance, almost becoming completely attached to her father when he was around.

Suddenly, Glynda had an idea.

"I think I might be able to help with that."

Ruby tilted her head, curious, as Glynda walked over to her scroll, pulled up her contacts, and called someone.

"Hello, Isabel?… Are you busy?"

Eventually, father and daughter came back down. They all sat around the table when Glynda spoke up.

"Tai, do you remember Nick and Isabel?"

Tai and the girls looked up from their food.

"I'd be pretty dumb to forget them. Why?"

"They've invited us to their farm in Radian for a couple of days. It's ultimately your call if you want to go, but…"

Tai was beaming. "Wow, really? What's the occasion?"

Before Glynda could answer, however…

"Ms. Glynda called them because she thought Yang could use more friends."

All three heads turned to Ruby: Glynda with utter betrayal, Tai with amusement, and Yang with embarrassment. Ruby ignored them all, continuing to poke at her sausage and dip it in the homemade sauce.

This cheeky little—

Tai glanced between Yang and Glynda, neither of them meeting his eyes. Both were blushing, but for completely different reasons.

He started snickering before erupting into full-blown laughter.

Glynda stood up, slamming her hands on the table, her face growing redder.

"It's—It's not funny, Tai! Childhood is the most important time in someone's life to develop adequate social skills. Why are you still laughing?! Stop it!!"

He continued. Yang looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. Suddenly, though…

Slap!

Everyone stopped and blinked. A slice of ham had flown through the air and was sliding down Tai's face. Everyone turned back to Glynda, who stared, eyes wide, as if she couldn't believe what she had done.

Yang and Ruby started to giggle, and Tai smirked.

"Oh, is that how you want to play?"

Glynda shrieked as Tai picked up some sausages and started to throw them as if they were throwing knives. Of course, none of them connected, and they froze midair. Yang smirked, joining the fight by grabbing the tomatoes, though she had just as much success as her father. Ruby, giggling, simply grabbed her plate and threw it at her sister. Glynda just watched in shock as the dinner she made flew through the air—not from her semblance.

Then everyone froze when Yang threw the bowl of sauce. Time seemed to slow as it flew in a perfect arc. Glynda remained frozen, unable to process what was happening or stop what would happen. Tai, remembering a similar situation from his first year at Beacon, simply closed his eyes and accepted his fate.

With a splat, the bowl landed directly on Glynda's head. Ruby looked up, innocent glee morphing into pure terror, as the bowl covered Glynda's hair and eyes, sauce running down her face. Yang actively started to back up as Glynda began to shake.

Tai opened his eyes. His fate may have been sealed, but not his children's. He knelt down and rested a hand on their shoulders.

"Kids, whatever happens, I want you both to know that I'm very proud of you, and I love you both so very much…"

Snort…

He stopped and turned. Glynda was still shaking. No—not shaking… Was she laughing?

Glynda erupted into full-blown laughter, so much so that she started crying.

Tai was only confused. This… did not happen last time.

Suddenly, every single remaining piece of food on the table began floating as her laughter died down and she wiped her eyes.

"Oh, you sweet, sweet fools…"

The house was a mess. Food stains covered every square centimeter of the walls, some plates lay broken on the ground, and Glynda still had a bowl of sauce on her head. Yet the smile on her face remained as she decided, for once, to sweep a broken plate off the floor without using her semblance.

She felt a light tug on her dress and looked down to see a sheepish Yang, eyes fixed on the ground.

Glynda smiled and kneeled down. "Yes, Yang? Is everything alright?"

Yang's foot twisted nervously back and forth, arms folded behind her back. "…Thank you…" she whispered quietly before bolting back inside her room and closing the door.

Glynda continued to smile. ‘She'll be alright,’ she thought.

Day 33

"Ms. Glynda?"

Yang was tugging at her dress again.

"Hm?" Glynda, still half-asleep, turned to her. "What is it?"

"Dad's still asleep… so I was wondering if maybe… you could walk with me to school today."

She was wide awake now. "Of course, Yang. Let me get my coat."

Day 35

Qrow was back.

"Ozpin's sending me out to Mistral. Just wanted to say hi to the girls before I leave."

Glynda blocked the doorway, arms crossed. "Hm."

Qrow just looked amused. "You know, technically this is more my home than it is yours."

All Glynda did was raise an eyebrow. "Really now? It hasn't felt that way for the past month."

His facade cracked for a second. "I… deserve that one. Can we talk? Alone?"

Glynda nodded and closed the door behind her, walking closer to him.

"I wanted to apologize."

Both eyebrows went up. "Really?... You?"

Qrow smirked. "Yeah. Contrary to popular belief, I can say sorry sometimes."

This was… new. "Does this have anything to do with you being in Atlas so often lately?"

Qrow looked away. "You could say that Atlas has a way of… opening your eyes, I guess."

"Hm."

He chuckled. "You were right. I did run and hide from the bottle. I did the exact same thing Tai did once, and I got angry at him over it. The difference between the two of us is he's brave enough not to push help away when it's offered."

Glynda's eyes softened. "He's always been like that, hasn't he?"

Qrow just nodded. "Yeah… when Summer… died, and I came back here the first time, I opened the door, half expecting her to still be here. When she wasn't, that's when it really became real to me, you know? That she was gone."

"Oh, Qrow…"

He raised a hand. "Let me finish! I know it's not fair to the girls at all, and it's definitely not fair to Tai, but I'm just… I'm not ready. I'm not like him. I know it's… cowardly, but I can't walk away just yet. Because when I'm out there, I can pretend she's still at home reading the girls their bedtime stories or… watching the newest season of Professor Paradox with Tai."

Glynda just stared before sighing. "Alright then. I can't force you to do anything you don't want to. It's your call."

Qrow nodded, then turned to leave when she called out to him.

"You can't run away forever, though."

He turned back. Glynda was staring at him, arms crossed again.

"I'll try to keep that in mind."

With that, Qrow transformed into a bird and flew away.

The girls never knew he was there that day.

Day 36

"…After that, Summer didn't let Qrow out of her sight for an entire month, because if she did, she was afraid it would happen again."

Ruby giggled next to her on the couch. "Did it?"

Glynda chuckled. "Oh yes. I still remember all the reports she had to fill out over destroyed Cabbage Carts throughout the school years. It happened on almost every single mission they went on."

Ruby started laughing. "Uncle Qrow is funny."

When she started yawning, Glynda patted her back. "I believe it's time for you to get ready for bed, wouldn't you agree?"

"Nooooo…." the girl weakly protested before trying to fight another yawn.

"Come on, Ruby, I'll help you. We have a big day tomorrow, after all." Glynda moved to stand up.

"Ok… Thanks, Auntie Glynda…"

She almost fell back onto the couch.

Day 37

Ruby hung onto Glynda basically the entire flight to Radian, buzzing with excitement. Further away, Yang and her father looked out the window in awe. Glynda looked down as Ruby tugged her to the side, also wanting to take a peek outside.

Auntie. Glynda had been called many names in the past, each one less flattering than the last: Ice Queen. Four Eyes. Bitch. All nicknames that only made her scoff. Auntie was not a title she had ever expected to be given. Yet now, whenever she looked at Yang and Ruby, realizing how much time they'd spent together and how they'd connected in the wake of an almost tragic incident…

The only thing Glynda felt then was pride. Pride and warmth.

Eventually, the walls surrounding the city of Radian came into view. Ruby immediately pressed her face to the window, eyes shining.

“Is that a castle?” she practically squealed, pointing at the large structure near the center of the city.

Glynda smiled at her excitement. “Yes and no. It used to be a castle belonging to Jaune’s family. These days, it’s been converted into a hospital, Arc-En-Ciel. His mother runs it.”

Ruby stared in awe. “Woooaaah…” she breathed, not moving from the glass.

Soon, however, she was shut out of her musings as their transport began to descend.

When the Airship landed, Glynda was barely able to let out a yelp before being scooped up by some of the largest arms she'd ever seen on a man.

"GLYNDA! Oh, it's so good to see you!" shouted Nicholas Arc enthusiastically, not caring that they were in public.

Ruby only gasped in wonder, eyes bright, as a large blonde man with a beard spun her red-faced Auntie in a circle with zero effort as she cried out for him to stop.

Yang watched shyly behind Tai as her father began to snicker. When Nick turned around, Tai's laughter died down as he suddenly found himself joining Glynda in the merry-go-round.

"TAI! You're here too?! This is awesome!"

Tai let out a small snort. "Yeah, big guy, they're my… kids…" He trailed off while looking at Glynda, whose face was starting to turn green.

Tai started to panic, recognizing what was about to happen. "Hey Nick? You gotta let us down. Like now."

Nick frowned. "Aw… fine…"

Upon being set down, Glynda stumbled around in a daze for a bit before Tai gently grabbed her shoulders and stabilized her while glaring at Nick.

The man sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and nervously smiled. "Ehe, sorry. I'm just so excited—it's been so long."

Glynda shook her head one last time. "Yes, well next time, try not to spin me around like a windmill again. I thought we talked about this."

Nick's smile only grew wider. "Yeah, but you still let it happen every time." 

To that, all she could do was sigh and show her own smile. "I suppose that is true as well."

It was then that Nick noticed the two girls standing off to the side. Breaking out of their stupor, they slightly flinched back, bracing for their turn on the Nickcopter.

When he stopped and gently kneeled to meet their eyes, they relaxed.

"Hey there," Nick said warmly. "I'm Nicholas Arc. Call me Nick, though."

Yang stayed silent and moved to gently push Ruby behind her. Nick's smile didn't change. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you two."

He slowly got back up. "You were probably too young to remember, but this isn't the first time I've seen you two."

Ruby gasped slightly. "Really?"

"Yep! Last time I saw you, Ruby, was the day you were born. My son, Jaune, he… uh… he had a rough time growing up and had to stay at the hospital a lot. He's better now, but you were actually born at the same place he stayed!"

She gasped again. "Wow, that's so cool!"

"Ruby!" Yang cried out, looking slightly scandalized. 

Nick just laughed again. "It is, isn't it? And now you can meet properly again."

Ruby turned to her dad and Glynda, looking excited, before running into her father's arms.

Nick turned to look Yang in the eyes. "How are you feeling? Glynda told me about what happened a while back."

Yang shrugged and looked away. "I dunno… fine, I guess."

"Jaune's really looking forward to meeting you. He's your age, so I'm sure you'll get along fine."

Yang only shrugged again.

Suddenly, Nick clapped his hands, startling the group. "Well then, let's get out of here!" He turned to walk away before stopping again. "Oh yeah, before I forget…"

He turned back to the group, with his biggest smile yet.

"Welcome to Radian!"

Chapter Text

"Auntie, Auntie!" Ruby pointed excitedly. "Look at all the cows!"

Glynda smiled, hands on her lap, as they all sat together in the back. Well, almost all of them. Yang called shotgun, electing to keep talking with Nick. He eagerly told her stories about his family, life as a hunter, Jaune, etc. Surprisingly, Yang seemed pretty engaged in the conversation, though she kept sneaking glances behind her towards the others.

"Ruby, do you know the difference between a male and a female cow?" 

The little girl turned to the older woman, scrunching her face in thought. "Ummmmm… the spots?" 

Glynda shook her head, "That’s not it. Female cows are the ones who give milk. You can’t milk bulls."

Tai snickered, "Well technically—." He was swiftly silenced by a backhand to the chest and a glare from Glynda. 

"She’s Four!" she hissed.

Ruby looked between them, confused. "What? What is it?" They shared a look before simply telling her, "When you’re older."

The little girl frowned, "Fiiiiine…" But almost immediately, she brightened up again. "Hey, Auntie Glynda, you should be a teacher!"

The woman blushed and adjusted her glasses. “Well… that has always been a dream of mine.” And it was true. There was nothing more fulfilling to her than inspiring the next generation of heroes—training them to be better prepared, to make sure they never repeated the same mistakes she and her comrades once had.

Tai smiled and looked at her. "I think you’d be a great teacher." She turned to him. "Really?"

Tai shrugged. "Of course. You’re basically the only reason my team graduated. Heck, Raven and Qrow could barely read before, and I only passed my classes because of all the study sessions you dragged us— and Nick— to. You really were an amazing teacher, Glyn."

Oh. He remembered that. She looked away, trying to hide her ever-reddening face. 

"Of course, they were mostly to find a way to spend some time with Nick. Summer just found out and made us join."

"TAI!"

Ruby just watched happily as Glynda started swatting his shoulder, desperately trying to get him to stop laughing.

‘This is fun.’

"Well! Here we are! Home, sweet home."

With a loud thump, Nick dropped the bags onto the floor. All of them. At once.

"I still don't know why you didn't let me handle the bags. They're our belongings after all," Glynda said.

Nick smiled back at her, "Yeah, but you're our guests! It'd be rude." 

‘Oum, that grin was blinding,’ Glynda thought. ‘Was that an actual sparkle?’

With a sigh, she realized arguing was pointless. "Very well. They're already here, I suppose."

Though not a castle, the Arc farm was no less imposing. A three-story farmhouse, easily large enough for a family of ten and then guests, stood proudly at the center of open fields. A back path led toward sweeping grassland and the bordering woods. Yang noticed a few horses lazily grazing as they approached—and judging by Ruby’s excited squeal, so did she.

A voice called from deeper within. "Honey, is that you?"

When he heard that voice, Nick's smile somehow got even wider. "Yep, we're back!"

Another blonde came walking through the empty doorway, much shorter than Nick. Her hair was tied into a loose ponytail, with large rectangular glasses perched on her nose. Her eyes, though warm, carried a quiet air of exhaustion.

"Glynda," Isabel Arc greeted, opening her arms for a hug—gentler than her husband's had been. Glynda was more than happy to oblige.

When she let go, Isabel turned to her other guest. "Hello, Tai." Her smile remained, though now with the faintest trace of pity. "How are you?" She opened her arms for another hug.

Tai happily accepted it. "Been better, I'll admit. Buuuuuut I'm getting there, thanks to some support."

Isabel nodded. "I can see that." She turned back to Glynda, her eyes now glinting with a hint of mischief. "You know, when I saw your name on my scroll, I was half expecting you to be asking us on behalf of Ozpin to join the "good fight", as he so eloquently put it once. Never in a million years would I have guessed you would come to me for parenting advice."

Parenting Advice? "You misunderstand the situation. I'm an Auntie though, according to Ruby."

Isabel hummed, clearly unconvinced. “And where is she, by the way?”

Tai turned. "Girls? You can come out now."

Slowly, the two inched out from behind their father's legs. Well, Yang inched—Ruby strode right up with her usual rubyness, and proudly declared "I'm Ruby! I'm four years old!"

Isbael let out a light giggle. "I can see that." She turned to Yang, who silently wished Ruby would start taking "stranger danger" seriously.

As if sensing her thoughts, Isabel leaned down and whispered gently, "It's alright. I won't hurt her—or you, for that matter."

‘How…?’

"I have seven daughters of my own," Isabel explained with a knowing smile. "I can recognize that look anywhere."

‘SEVEN? She must be a witch.’ "I'm Yang," is what she says instead. "Xiao-Long." 

Ruby gasps, "Oh right, and I'm Rose!" 

Isabel can barely keep herself from squealing. "Breaker, you two are adorable." She straightened up and called over her shoulder. "Alright girls, you're up!"

Before she finished saying that, the door next to them burst open and seven girls literally spilled out onto the floor in one big pile. Isabel raised an eyebrow. "Really?" she drawled.

The one on the bottom, with the longest blonde hair out of them all, got up and looked up at her with a carefree grin. "Oh come on Mom, can you blame us? I mean, look at them! So young and squishy! This one has black hair! And looks so happy! And this one has blond hair! Like us! But she also looks like she wants to kill me for grabbing her hair! Oooh, maybe she's Saphron's hidden twin that Dad had with another woman-"

She was interrupted by her slightly younger sister, a girl who had a very gentle aura and a flower braid in her hair. "Aqua, I think it's time to let go of her hair and also to stop watching all those crime dramas-"

"How would she be my twin anyways? I'm, like, double her age," interrupted the scowling eldest-looking one. "Idiot."

Flower-Girl gasped. "Saphron! That's not very nice to say to your sister! Apologize to Aqua!" Saphron just snorted. "Whatever."

Suddenly Aqua started to cry out huge crocodile tears. "WAAAAHHHHH! SAPHRON IS SO MEAN TO ME!" and dove into her Flower-Girl’s arms. "LILAC! WHY CAN'T ALL OUR FAMILY BE AS NICE AS YOU?!" Lilac just let out a sigh and started patting Aqua’s back, trying to calm her down. 

Two identical giggles rang out. Yang immediately pegged the twins as trouble.

"Ha, Saphron told Aqua off again."

"Wow, you'd think she'd be used to it."

"VERDY? CORAL?! NOT YOU TOOOO! WAHHHHH!" Aqua’s tears returned with a vengeance, to everyone’s exhaustion. Finally, the last sibling—short blonde hair and a look of long-suffering patience—quietly shut her up with a firm fist to the head. Yang swore she heard something crack and winced.

"SHUT UP! You're so loud!"

"Tangy!" shouted Isabel. "Don't hurt your sister!" 

'Tangy' only snorted. "As if her thick skull was even bruised from that." Saphron smirked and snickered beside her.

“WAHHHHH! MOM, THEY’RE BULLYING ME AGAIN!” Lilac rubbed Aqua’s back faster, shooting the other two sisters a deeply disappointed look. For the first time, Saphron and Tangy actually seemed to feel a flicker of shame—though they quickly turned away and grumbled before any apology could be forced out.

The adults looked on with mixed reactions.

Glynda frowned. "Is… is she okay?" 

Nick just laughed, "Yeah, don't worry! That happens a lot." Glynda only looked more concerned from that. 

Tai just watched on sadly as Isabel lectured her daughters on treating each other nicer. When Glynda looked his way though, he quickly put on a smile, saying "Well… she is a doctor isn't she? If things got too bad, she'd have put a proper stop to it already." 

While that wasn’t untrue, that wasn’t the part that worried her anymore.

Off to the side, Ruby noticed the youngest sibling watching on in silence. "That's not right!" she thought. The four year old marched up to the silent girl, who blinked in surprise.

"Hi, I'm Ruby Rose! I'm 4!"

The blonde girl only blinked again. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch what was happening, even Isabel and the rest of the Arc sisters.

Before the quiet girl could try to disappear, Lilac placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Go on, don't be shy. You said you wanted to make a new friend." The girl only blushed at that. 

Ruby kept beaming on though, and eventually, the girl was able to mumble out, ".... Orchid…"

Ruby's beam only grew brighter as she raised her hand up high. "High five if you wanna be my friend!"

Orchid blinked once more, before averting her eyes. Ruby's smile faltered slightly, and she began to lower her hand, when Orchid's arm shot out and smacked Ruby's open palm.

Smack!

Yang could've sworn Ruby had literal sparkles in her eyes while she was squealing over having made a new friend.

"Kids, where's your brother?" Isabel asked once Ruby had calmed down—well, once Ruby had calmed down and dragged her new friend outside, while Orchid's eyes silently screamed for help the entire way. Tai followed after them, unwilling to let Ruby wander in a new environment without an adult. That left Yang alone with Glynda and the Arc family.

"Jaune?-"

"Who knows?-"

"Oh I know!-"

"You do?-"

"Yeah, you do-"

"GIRLS!" snapped Isabel, growing tired of the Twins antics. Yang had long given up on identifying which twin is which. She'd have to ask for help on that front later.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Isabel sighed. "Where is your brother? This time a proper answer."

"Jaune is in-"

"-his room, sleeping."

Isabel nodded, satisfied. "Thank you, you two." With that, the twins left, and the rest of the blonde gaggle spilled outside, rushing to rescue their sister from the red/black-haired gremlin's clutches.

When they left, Isabel turned back to Yang with a smile, "Sometimes I still have trouble recognizing which one is which too. Don't worry, it'll get easier over time."

‘WITCH!’ Yang's expression must have betrayed her thoughts because Isabel barked out a short laugh. "Are you hungry? I know you all had to get up early for the Airship flight to get here. Since I'm making something for Jaune anyway, I can make extra for you and your sister."

Yang opened her mouth to politely decline (she'd rather go check on Ruby and make sure she wasn't causing trouble) but before she could…

GROWWWLLLL

Yang didn't know what was more embarrassing, the stomach rumbling itself, or the cliche timing of it. Isabel just smiled, "Pancakes or Waffles?"

"... Pancakes" Yang muttered before shuffling her way over to the enormous living room table and sitting down at the end.

Isabel got to work, and though the woman tried her best, Yang wasn't too eager to converse with another strange adult. ‘Honestly, who in their right mind would willingly have at least eight children?...’

Eventually, after Isabel's attempt at conversation swapped towards Glynda, they were able to hear a door opening up upstairs. "I think he's finally up," commented the Arc Matriarch, "Just in time too, these pancakes are practically finished. Want to get your sister?"

Without answering, Yang shot up and made her way to the door. In her eagerness however, she failed to notice the sleepy boy descending the stairs beside her, even after he reached the bottom and turned to head towards the kitchen.

When Isabel heard a commotion, she quickly rushed over to see the two kids on the ground, clutching their red foreheads, eyes closed.

"Ow! Hey, watch where you're going!" shouted Yang. 

The boy immediately looked over, and stood up to apologize. "Sorry! Sorry! I didn't… woah…" he trailed off as Yang opened her own eyes to glare at her attacker.

In front of her, leaning over with a hand reaching out for her to grasp up, was the last Arc child. He was almost an inch and a half shorter than her, with shaggy, unkempt blonde hair, a sweater thrown hastily over his PJ's, and bright blue eyes staring directly into her own.

"What?" Yang scowled. "You didn't 'what'?" 

‘This is Jaune? He looks so… normal compared to the others,’ she thought to herself.

"Your eyes… they're purple…" is all Jaune said, not retracting his hand, even after Yang got up herself. 

She scowled even harder, not breaking eye contact with him. "Yeah? What about it?" ‘Does he have a problem with purple eyes?’

Jaune flushed, embarrassed, and started waving his hands in front of him. "They're pretty, that's all!"

Oh.

"Oh… thanks I guess…"

Yang brushed past him, eager to put the awkward encounter behind her (literally) as she set off to find her sister.

Jaune and Ruby got along great, to Yang's relief, and there were no extra comments on Ruby's abnormal eye color from him either.

"Auntie, Auntie, look! I have two best friends now!" the Rose Child declared happily, her left hand grasping Jaune's while her right clung onto Orchid's arm. (Yang didn't know if the girl genuinely wanted to be there or if she just didn't want to disappoint Ruby… a conflict Yang knew all too well.)

Glynda laughed at Ruby's excitement, beaming down at her as she and the other three adults sat outside at a table, each with their own cup of coffee. "I can see that! I'm glad you're having fun."

“Hee~!” Releasing Jaune’s hand, Ruby threw up a bright peace sign. Then her eyes lit up.

She spun toward the Arc parents with a pleading look. “Can we go see the animals? Pleeeease?”

"Of course!" Nick jumped to his feet before Isabel could answer. "Come on Girls! Adventure!"

"Uh, Dad, I'm not a—" Jaune began, but was drowned out by Ruby's shriek of joy. "YAAYYYYYYY!"

Nick hoisted Ruby and Orchid (who simply resigned herself to her fate) each onto one of his shoulders, and sped off. The Arc Boy, not wanting to fall too far behind, turned around with a grin, "C'mon Yang! Let's go!"

Huh? 

"Wuh.. me?"

"Yeah, don't you want to make sure Ruby's safe?" 

‘How did he…? Witchcraft. Definitely witchcraft. Must run in the family.’ Yang narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Jaune, trying to figure out his secret. The boy just offered a nervous smile, unsure what he had done to offend his new friend.

"I should go too," Tai said, pushing himself up from his chair. "Don't want to let Nick have all the fun. You ladies don't mind?"

"No, of course not. Honestly, it might ease my nerves, having an actual adult supervising all five kids," Isabel said with a smirk.

Tai barked out a laugh. "Wow Izzy! Are you saying I've become boring? I must be out of practice."

Glynda shook her head. "Just go Tai," she said with a smile. "We'll be fine."

“…Alright, if you say so. Come on, Blonde Two and Blonde Three. Let’s ride!” Tai declared, clapping both kids on the back as he walked between them.

“What?!” Yang sputtered, though she didn’t fight him as he herded them after Nick and the others. “Why am I Blonde Two?!”

Tai looked at her like she asked if the skye was blue. "Because I'm Blonde One. The original. The best. Duh."

"No way! My dad is the best! He's Blonde One. You're Blonde Four!" Jaune shot back.

"Oh is that right…"

The voices trailed off, leaving Isabel and Glynda alone with their cups at the table.

They watched the remaining sisters chatting—Aqua saying something that immediately sent Tangy chasing her again.

Isabel chuckled softly. “It really is good to see you, Glynda,” she said, pulling her friend back from her thoughts. “How long has it been?”

A while. “Since… Mount Glenn, I think,” Glynda murmured, pushing away the memories of that terrible day—the day Isabel left active combat and dedicated herself fully to healing.

"Yes. Far too long." Isabel's smile faded, her tone sharpening. "To be honest, I almost let your call go to voicemail. I'm glad I didn't."

"…I'll try not to take that too personally. Any reason why?"

Isabel turned to her with a stormy look in her eyes. "Because Glynda, despite me retiring from being a Huntress, Ozpin, in his infinite wisdom, still sends requests, letters, messages, practically begging for us to join his little cabal. Even after both of us explicitly told him no, he hasn't given up. So you can imagine my initial reaction to seeing his favorite Operator attempting to reach my scroll on a random afternoon after not hearing from either of them in a while."

Glynda… didn't know how to respond to that. She stared into the dark surface of her coffee. "I'm… sorry. I didn't know he did that."

A sharp snort. "Of course you didn't. He didn't even tell us what's happening with Tai, that was all you. I mean, seriously, that moron, why didn't he reach out, we have more than enough space and experience to help with kids."

"In Ozpin's defense with that," Glynda said carefully, "he didn't know about Tai's state either. He was just as shocked as I was when I found out."

Isabel blinked, puzzled. "Really? But… Qrow tells him everything. Surely he would have said…"

"No." Glynda shook her head. "After… Summer, Qrow's only communication with Ozpin is just mission debriefs and summaries. His remaining time is apparently spent in Atlas."

"Atlas?... But he hates Atlas!" 

Glynda threw her hands up, "That's exactly what I said!"

The two women stared at each other, then laughed until the tension faded into comfortable silence.

"...Besides, I didn't know if you were calling for me or for my husband." 

At that, Glynda spit out her coffee. "Isabel! Don't make me out to be some kind of homewrecker!" 

Besides, Glynda hadn’t felt that way about Nick since graduation. Something she had reminded Isabel of more than once.

Isabel just laughed, "Of course, I forgot! You have your own man now."

This again… "Isabel please, believe me on this, Tai is just a friend. I'm just helping him until he gets back onto his feet. Then, it's… back to the 'good fight' as you say for me…" 

‘Yes… this is temporary, after all…’

"For the girls right? That's what you told me over the scroll."

Glynda nodded, smiling faintly. "Yes, exactly. For them."

Isabel hummed. "Interesting. Imagine if the version of you from Beacon saw you today. Moving into Taiyang Xiao-Long's household to help a struggling single father raise his children."

"Move in?! I didn't move in! I still live at my own place!" sputtered Glynda.

"And when was the last time you were there?"

"It was…!" She froze. ‘When… was the last time she was home? (No stop, bad brain, she chastised herself when the image of the Xiao-Long-Rose homestead popped up in her mind first) Has it really been… since she found the girls? Wait.. her plants!’

"Oh no, my plants! I haven't— I have to—"

Isabel only grabbed her hand and gently sat her back down after she sprung up in a minor panic. "Glynda, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there's absolutely no way those plants are still alive by now."

‘Damn it!... I really liked those plants…’

"All I'm saying, Glynda, is that you're doing an awful lot for someone who is just a friend—"

"Summer would have done the same for us."

That stopped Isabel cold.

"She already did it for Tai," Glynda went on softly. "Not just because she loved him, but because it was who she was… and then the world lost her."

When Isabel didn't attempt to interrupt, Glynda continued. "I know what my peers say about me. That I am a stone-cold bitch. But Summer, not once did she think of me that way. And when I saw Yang, Ruby, and Tai, I thought how they would grow up without that person, one that would always be there for them. So I asked myself, 'What would Summer do…'"

At that, all Isabel could do was smile, and turn back to watch the fields with her friend. 

Still though…

"You do remember that Summer helping Tai like that is what got them Ruby, right?"

"For heaven's sake Isabel, just stop."

‘Besides, something like that isn't in the cards for me anyways.’

"Uncle Nick! Uncle Nick! Look at that cow, it's all Black!" Ruby shouted, bouncing on her toes and pointing excitedly.

"Oh wow Ruby you’re right! And that one is all white!"

Yang perked up, sensing an opportunity. "I guess you can say that they’re really a… Yin and Me, huh?"

Ruby groaned, as usual, and Yang rolled her eyes. ‘Bah, she doesn’t get my comedic genius…’

"Heh…" 

A laugh? That was new. It didn’t come from Ruby though.

"That was pretty funny Yang!" Jaune said, grinning. She gaped at him. Could this be? Had she finally found someone who appreciated her comedic prowess?

"Thanks…" she murmured, letting a small smile creep across her face. Her first of the day.

"Noooo Jaune! Don’t encourage her!" whined her sister. 

Jaune laughed at that as well. "Sorry Ruby, but it really was funny!"

Ba-Bump!

Oh, so… he meant it. He genuinely thought it was funny… 

Maybe it was just that one though. He’d probably think she was weird if she kept going.

"I thought it was funny too!" said Nick. "Tai made jokes like that all the time back at Beacon."

The other man puffed out his chest in pride. "Heh, where do you think my little firecracker got it from?" Oh no.

"Daaad! You promised to stop calling me that in public!" Yang protested, lightly beating on his chest with her fists. Her Dad kept laughing, unfazed.

"Firecracker? That’s so cool! Dad, why can’t you call me a name like that?"

Ba-Bump! 

"Wh-Wha?.... You think it's cool?"

Jaune shrugged. "Yeah. It’s a cool nickname, and it’s something from your dad. Why don't you think it’s cool?"

Tai froze. "Oh, I—um, it wasn’t actually me that gave Yang that nick—"

"You’re right."

Everyone turned to Yang, who was blushing furiously. “It is a pretty cool nickname,” she mumbled.

“Mhm,” Orchid added quietly—making Yang jump in shock. ‘I completely forgot she was here!’

Tai and Nick watched Ruby trying to calm her flustered sister while Jaune chastised the younger Arc girl, who watched with an unapologetic smirk.

“Wow! What great friends they all are!” Nick said brightly.

Tai sighed. “Yeah… let’s hope he keeps it that way with my little girls…” he muttered, walking ahead.

“Wait—what? Tai? What does that mean? Tai?!”

Day 39 (Day 3 of Radian)

"DAAAAD! Orchid and I want to go ride the Horses!"

Orchid would actually rather stay inside where it was quiet. But Ruby wouldn’t have that, and spending time with Ruby was… fun. So she’d allow it.

"Can they do that?" Tai asked Isabel and Nick, the four adults seated at the breakfast table. Yang and Jaune were outside in the backyard, which was a milestone according to Tai. After all, it was the first time Yang had taken the initiative to do something without keeping an eye on Ruby at the same time.

Isabel nodded, swallowing her food. "Of course! One of us should supervise. Glynda, want to join them?"

"I suppose… I haven’t ridden a horse myself in a while." 

Tai snickered, "Is that what we’re calling Nick now?". Both Isabel and Glynda flushed crimson. 

"TAI!" 

"Isabel—I swear, I never… with Nick I didn’t—"

Isabel just sighed, "I know Glynda. Believe me, I know…" Shooting Tai a sharp glare, "Those jokes weren’t funny back then, and they aren't funny now."

"What jokes?"

Everyone froze and looked at Ruby, who tilted her head. “Did someone make a joke? Is one of the horses named Nick?”

“Err—yes! Yes, Ruby! Exactly!” Isabel nodded quickly. “Honey, isn’t she right?”

They all looked at Nick, who was busy shoveling breakfast into his mouth. “Hm? Sorry, what? I wasn’t listening,” he said around his seventh pancake.

Isabel stared at him unimpressed as he grabbed another. "Nevermind…"

Suddenly the door swung open. "Mommmmmm! Yang’s trying to make me eat a mudpie!"

Glynda raised an eyebrow. ‘A what?’

"But Jaune," Yang managed to barely giggle, "they’re good for you! I promise!"

"It’s made out of dirt! How can that be good?!" 

"Yuh-huh, and food comes from the dirt! So it’s full of good food… things!" Yang said proudly.

"I'm convinced! Let me have one!" 

"NICK NO!"

"Steady now! The horse gets scared when you get scared!" Nick called to Ruby, Yang and Glynda from his own horse.

‘Easy for you to say,’ Yang thought. ‘This isn't your first time on one of these things.’

The girl had Ruby in her lap, and was sitting in Glynda's own. "They must have unlocked this horse's aura, otherwise there's no way it should be able to carry all our weight so easily," Yang overheard Glynda mutter to herself.

That did nothing to ease Yang's nerves. If anything, the thought of the horse being stronger terrified her more. Her sister was far too excited to notice Yang nervously scanning the surroundings, eyes darting as if looking for an escape. She jumped when a hand gently rested on her shoulder.

"Yang, are you okay? If you want to get off, that's fine," asked Glynda softly from behind her. 

"It's fine!" The girl cried out rather quickly. "I'm fine!"

Glynda frowned, she was clearly not fine. When Yang started inhaling rather quickly, she used her semblance to gently lift Yang off the horse and behind the fence. "I'm fine I promise!"

Glynda nodded for Nick to come over. With Orchid and Jaune seated in his lap, he guided his horse closer, dismounted, and helped Glynda down as well. Then he took hold of Goldship’s reins and led the mare back toward the barn. The horse protested the entire way—snorting, pawing, and letting out offended whinnies at the indignity—until Nick finally managed to settle her inside.

Once finished, he returned and lifted Ruby, placing her comfortably between Jaune and Orchid on his own horse.

Glynda, meanwhile, walked over to where Yang sat curled on the fence. The girl was trembling, quietly whispering to herself, “don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…”

The sound of it broke Glynda’s heart.

"Yang," the woman said softly, gingerly trying to pull the girl into a hug. "It's okay to be scared. It happens to everyone-"

But Yang shrugged her off and forcefully shook her head. "No way, not me! I'm not scared!" She was trembling now. "I don't get scared, not anymore! I can’t get scared!"

‘Not anymore? What does… oh…’

Suddenly she recognized the problem. "Would you like me to get your father for you Yang?" she asked, taking her hand lightly. Yang lifted her head and saw Glynda’s eyes filled with worry. When she nodded, Glynda gave her hand a quick squeeze and walked briskly towards the household.

With Yang left alone, she curled her legs into her arms, and her placed head into her lap. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't.

Suddenly she felt some weight to her side as someone sat down next to her. Hoping it was her dad—or Ruby—she peeked up.

It was Jaune.

Immediately putting her head back down, she muttered out "... go away…"

Staring at her for a couple of seconds, Jaune stayed silent for a beat before saying one word. "No."

Yang clenched her fists. "...Go away!"

"Nope."

"Just go!"

"Nuh uh!"

"I SAID GO!"

But Jaune shook his head, and with a gentle tone this time, he asked her, "Are you okay? I won't leave you if you're not okay." 

Ba-Bump!

"Y-you're just saying that…" she sniffled, rubbing her eyes. 

Jaune blinked, confused. "No I’m not, why would you think that?"

Yang shook her head. "They all leave. You'll leave too…" 

‘Raven’s gone… Mom left… Dad almost didn’t come back… Qrow is never around… It’s just her and Ruby now—’

"Well I won't!" At the forceful tone behind those words, Yang had to look up at him in shock. He looked angry, something she hadn't seen yet. "I don't know who these people are but I won't leave you! Arc's promise!"

The forest wind blew her hair back as Yang rubbed her eyes. "Arc's… promise?..."

Suddenly, Jaune lost all his bravado. "It's.. something my dad taught me." At that he perked up again, "Basically, it's a promise that I won't ever break, no matter what!"

After a couple more sniffles, Yang looked up at him in hope. "You… you really mean it?"

Jaune smiled, taking her hand. "Yep! I'll make sure you're never alone again!"

Yang could feel her face erupting in crimson before turning away. "... Thank you…"

Suddenly, Yang felt someone else grab her other hand. She looked down to see the smiling face of her sister, who had gotten off their horse after hearing her shout at Jaune.

"I won't leave you either Yang! Sister's promise!" She pouted, "I'm not an Arc so I can't make an Arc Promise, but I can make a Sister's Promise! And we can make that even better!"

Jaune's face looked like he'd just been shot. "What?! You can't do that! An Arc's Promise is the strongest promise there is!"

Ruby stuck out her tongue. "Well, then we'll make a Rose Promise!"

Her opponent smirked. "Ha! Yang isn't a Rose! So it's not a Sister's Promise then!"

"She's not an Arc either, so why does yours count and mine doesn't?" 

"That's-"

"Heheh…"

When Yang started giggling, they stopped and looked down at her. She looked up at both of them, and though the corners of her eyes were still moist, her smile was the biggest she'd had since arriving in Radian.

"Thanks guys…"

Both of them beamed back. "Of course!"

When Glynda had arrived at the Arc home to tell Tai what had happened, he had almost sprinted out and nearly knocked her over on the way there, expertly catching her and spinning her around before setting her down and rushing over to his daughter.

What he found though made him pause. Yang was tightly grasping the hands of both her sister and her new friend, talking to Nick and laughing while he placed them one after another on top of Goldship. Despite her earlier wounded pride, the horse reluctantly allowed it. (‘Seriously, who wouldn’t want to ride on me?... At least the little one is making up for it now.’)

I guess she’s all better now…

Glynda finally caught up to him, catching her breath, before taking in the sight herself. "Well I’ll be…" she muttered. 

Tai nodded, "Yep, seems like my little firecracker is doing better after all."

Glynda let out a slight exhale. "I’m sorry for rushing you over here. It seems I misunderstood-"

"You didn’t misunderstand anything." Tai cut her off, not taking his eyes off his kids. "I know that… ever since the incident, Yang’s been hurting. She puts on a brave face as much as she can, but I’m her dad. I know when she’s lying to me."

He looked down at his feet. "I know I messed up. Badly. I’m trying to make up for that every day. But… to be honest, I thought she’d come to me when she was ready. So I never approached her out of fear she’d shut me out."

When Tai glanced at Glynda, she saw tears shimmering in the corners of his eyes. "She’s my little girl… and now she doesn’t trust me enough to tell me her fears because… because I failed her before. And I don’t know if she ever will again…"

Glynda stepped in front of him and gently took his hand. "Tai… you’re her father. She doesn’t want you to know she’s hurting. She cares more about your pain than her own. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t trust you."

She brushed away the tears from his eyes. "You’re doing so well. We’re all so proud of you. I’m sure Yang didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. So please, don’t doubt yourself like this. Just be there for her whenever you can."

Together, they turned back toward the kids, being led around by Nick while Orchid watched from the sidelines.

"Besides, though, we can’t always be there for them… it seems we won’t have to be," Glynda added with a small smile.

Tai sniffled, then smiled. "Yeah… you’re right."

A comfortable silence settled over them, broken only by the occasional excited shriek from the three children.

Day 41 (Day 5 of Radian, and the Final Day)

"Jaaaaaaaune! Let’s go do something together!"

Yang had to resist the urge to grit her teeth and shout at her to go away. Seriously, how couldn’t she tell that Jaune didn’t feel comfortable with her always grabbing Jaune and dragging him off to who knows where?

Sure, Katy claimed they’d been dating since they were babies, but she probably didn’t even know what that meant! Yang sure didn’t, at least, not until she asked her dad. His eyes had darkened while he asked what Jaune said. ("Nothing! I swear!") And Glynda, who sputtered, blushed, and looked away… Yeah, Yang could tell that was definitely nothing good.

But the worst part… the absolute worst part… was that Jaune made sure Yang had to be there every time Katy showed up. Yang didn’t want to see the faunus cuddle up to Jaune like that! From how red he got whenever Katy’s tail wrapped around him, it must’ve been super warm. And she did it in the middle of a hot summer day too!

"Katy, it’s Yang’s last day here. I promised her I would do something with her instead."

Wait, what?

"You did?!" Yang and Katy asked at the same time. When Katy turned to her with a glare, Yang returned the look without hesitation. Jaune kept walking, oblivious to what was happening behind him. "Yeah, I asked her if she and Ruby wanted to go swimming in the lake. We wanted to go diving off the tire swing."

Ba-Bump!

‘Oh right… he did ask me that, huh?’ Yang couldn’t believe he remembered… and she couldn’t believe she’d forgotten. Smirking, she felt a surge of giddy satisfaction as she watched the deeper shade of red spreading across Katy’s face.

"Though if you want, you can come with us! Yang, is that alright?"

Immediately, the giddiness vanished. "Y-Yeah. That’s fine."

Yang refused to look back at Katy. ‘Dang it!’

"CANNONBALL!" 

That was the only warning before a massive wave crashed down on everyone.

"NICK!" Isabel screeched from the lakeside, unable to shield herself from the downpour of lake water raining down on her. "That isn’t funny!"

"Really?" Nick asked innocently. "The kids are laughing, though."

Sure enough, every single one of them was giggling on the sidelines—even though they’d all been caught in the splash zone too.

"Hey Yang? Wanna go on the tire swing?" Jaune asked her through his giggles.

‘Does she?!’ 

"Duh! Of course!" Spotting it on the hill above, she grabbed Jaune’s hand and took off running toward the old tree, leaving Katy and Ruby behind. "Hey!" The faunus called after them, but Yang didn’t care. Laughing the whole way, she and Jaune took turns swinging off the hill and splashing into the lake below.

“What’s wrong?” Ruby asked the pouting Katy.

Katy scowled and turned away, arms crossing tightly. “Nothing’s wrong,” she muttered.

Ruby watched her for a few seconds, eyes narrowed in thoughtful scrutiny. But, deciding it was better not to push, she simply shrugged.

“Okay!” she chirped. Then she turned and trotted off to find Orchid, leaving Katy alone by the shore.

The girl’s tail drooped slightly as she watched Yang and Jaune splashing each other, laughing under the afternoon sun.

"But… he’s my boy friend…"

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Yang turned to Jaune, confused. The question had come out of nowhere. Katy had gone home earlier already after dinner, and Ruby was sound asleep, having spent all her energy spending as much time as possible with Orchid, Verdy and Coral.

The adults were still talking inside, so Jaune and Yang lay in the grass just outside the door, watching the stars. Yang stayed quiet while Jaune eagerly pointed out constellations his mom had shown him, rattling off facts as if he were teaching a class. But eventually, he ran out of things to say, and after a pause, he suddenly asked that question.

Yang turned toward him again and found him staring straight into her eyes. She was too tired to notice how close their faces actually were as they lay in the dirt.

"Why?" she asked softly.

Jaune shrugged. "I don't know. I was just wondering…"

If she were honest, until that moment, she never really thought about it. Yang shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe a Huntress… Mom was one, and she was awesome. Maybe I'll be as awesome as her like that…"

Jaune's face lit up. "Really? That's so cool!" He turned toward the sky again, eyes sparkling. "Being a Hunter sounds awesome! Saving people, being a hero…"

Yang snickered at his excitement. "Do you want to be a Huntsman?"

She expected him to answer with the same enthusiasm, but instead, his smile faded.

"Yeah, but… Mom won't let me," he said quietly. "She says it's too dangerous."

"What?!" Yang sat up a little. "But she's a Huntress too, right? And she's strong! So why doesn't she want to help you be one too?!"

Jaune mirrored her, sitting up as well, but looking away. "I don't know… She wants me to be a doctor. But I don't want to be a doctor! It sounds boring! Dad used to tell me all these stories about being a Huntsman, but now they won't tell me anymore, and they keep saying I can't be one and it's not FAIR!"

Tears welled in his eyes. "I just… want to be a hero like them…" Jaune cried.

"You're right!"

Jaune froze and looked up at her. Yang stood with her fists planted firmly on her hips, full of determination. For a moment, she looked like a superhero to him.

"That isn't fair! It's your life, so if you want to be a huntsman, just be one! Who cares what they think?"

Jaune gaped at her. "But… they're my parents…"

Yang grinned. "Then make me another promise! Like the one you made with me before. The one you can't break."

He wiped his eyes. "You mean an Arc Promise?"

She nodded, "Yep! Promise me that when we're older… we'll both be Huntsmen, okay? We'll be partners and everything! And… and we'll explore the world with our team, and keep people safe, and be Heroes! Just like you want, right?"

Yang leaned closer. "You can't break that promise, so that way, you have to be a huntsman! Your parents can't stop you if you do that."

Jaune stared at her, speechless, trying to find a flaw in the logic of the grinning six-year-old.

"Yeah… you're right!" He jumped to his feet and held out his hand. "On my word as an Arc, we'll be Huntsmen together!"

Yang's smile lit up the whole night sky for him as she grabbed his hand and shook it with all her strength.

"Yep!"

Day 42 (Return to Patch)

"You can come back anytime!" Nick shouted right into Tai's and Glynda's ears as he pulled them into a crushing hug. At least this time, Isabel was holding him back to prevent another ride on the Nickcopter.

"Erk! We'll… remember that!" Tai wheezed, while Glynda practically screamed for him to let go of her spine.

Off to the side, Ruby was saying goodbye to the Arc sisters, comically lifting Orchid’s entire body up and down by shaking her arm as if she were a hammer. Orchid didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. She’d long since adapted to Ruby’s… Rubyness.

"Call us if you need help, okay, Rubes?" said Saphron with a smile– though it faltered when Aqua grabbed her arm. 

"Awww, Sapphy! You do care!"

"SHUT UP! Stop always grabbing me like that!" 

Aqua ignored her, spinning them both in a circle. "Saphron has a heart! Saphron has a heart! Saphr—ERK!"

She was promptly silenced when Tangy punched her into the ground again. "TANGY!" Lilac shrieked, immediately panicking over her sister.

Ruby laughed, used to their antics by now as well. 

"We'll miss you Ruby!"

"Yeah both of us will miss you the most!"

"I'll miss you too, Verdy! Coral!" (Somehow, Ruby was always able to tell them apart.)

Suddenly, a wave of cold rolled off Orchid. “No… I will,” she growled, voice low enough to shake the twins to silence.

Ruby gasped—loud and theatrical. “I’LL MISS YOU THE MOST TOO!” And she immediately resumed lifting Orchid up and down like a dumbbell.

The chill vanished in an instant. Orchid blinked once—expression returning to its usual blank neutrality—allowing herself to be flung around again as if nothing had happened.

A little farther off, Yang stood with Jaune. "Remember the promise we made, okay?"

Jaune nodded firmly. "I won't forget. Ever."

Yang smiled. "Good." Silence fell between them, awkward but gentle.

"Thank you…" she muttered. Jaune blinked. "Hm? For what?"

She kicked at the dirt, cheeks pink. "…For being my friend."

He smiled. "Of course! You're my friend too!"

Ba-Bump!

Yang grinned, trying to sound casual. "Really? I mean, I knew that already! Duh!"

Tai called for them to board the Airship. Yang quickly hugged Jaune before sprinting off, ignoring the heat in her face.

Along the way, she stopped by Nick and Isabel, pouting, and pointed her finger at them. "Remember! He made a promise. So you have to help him!"

Isabel looked puzzled, but Nick just gave her a thumbs-up and a grin. "Of course! Arc's word!"

Yang beamed, then hurried to join her family… and Glynda… waving as the Airship lifted off.

As it soared into the sky, Isabel turned to her son. "Sweetie, what promise did you make to Yang?"

"Oh, um…"

"Did you have a good time, Yang?"

Yang looked up at the older woman's warm smile.

"Yep! Sure did! I made a new friend!" she said proudly, turning back to catch one last glimpse of Radian below.

"I'm glad to hear it," Glynda said softly.

Inside her mind, though… 'Yes! YES! It worked. Oh, thank the Brothers, it worked! I'm so happy for her! For both of them! I was so nervous this would be a mistake, but–'

"Auntie Glynda?"

"Hm?"

She turned to the voice, whose owner was looking at her with a red face. "Thanks."

Silence…

"Anytime Yang."

‘Anytime.’

Chapter Text

Around One Month After Radian

“So, Yang’s birthday is coming up,” Tai said one morning, voice casual as he took a sip of coffee.

Glynda turned from the counter, one brow arched. “Really? She hasn’t mentioned it…” she drawled, carefully ignoring the circled date on the calendar, the torn-out catalogue pages on the fridge, and the growing list titled Guests in Yang’s handwriting on the table.

Tai chuckled. “I know, right? It’s like she doesn’t even care.”

Glynda hid her smile behind her cup. “So,” she asked lightly, “what are we going to do about it?”

If the we caught Tai off guard, he didn’t show it. “Well, she wants Jaune and his sisters to come over. Easy enough — I’m sure Izzy won’t mind. But beyond that? Not a clue.”

Glynda hummed. Sitting down at the table and going over some of the presents Yang had circled, she suggested, “How about you talk to Yang about what she wants to do for her party, and I’ll take care of the gifts?”

Tai frowned. “You sure? That’s a lot of money you’d be spending. You’ve already done so much for us, I wouldn’t want you to—”

Glynda shook her head firmly. “Tai, please. We’ve been over this.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment—silent, stubborn—but Tai was the first to exhale and drop his shoulders. “Alright… if you’re certain.”

She nodded once and returned to the catalogue, quietly mapping what she needed and where to buy it.

Tai stepped closer, his arm brushing hers as he leaned in. “At least let me check the prices.”

“Absolutely not, Tai,” Glynda interrupted with a laugh. “I’ve seen your finances. You’ll soon run out of the Lien you’ve saved up from your Huntsman missions. Don’t worry, I won’t get her anything too expensive from here… Besides, she doesn’t need a horse. She can ride the ones at Radian whenever she wants.”

Tai was staring at her as if she were a goddess before dramatically bowing down on the ground in front of her. “THANK YOU SO MUCH!” he shouted, crying crocodile tears.

Glynda rolled her eyes, “Yes, yes, you’re welcome. I know – I truly am magnificent.”

“Yeah, you are.”

Glynda had expected him to respond in the same posh tone she’d used — to continue the banter. So when instead he looked up at her with a smile and complete earnestness, she couldn’t help but look away.

“Idiot. Get a job, then, if you really want to, you can pay me back after you get a job yourself.”

She was surprised when Tai started the job search the next morning. 

(“Tai, I’m serious — you don’t need to pay me back.”)

“Why did you buy them a Rintaro Morph?!”

“Yang wanted one! And– And the old consoles were fun in the dorms, remember? It could be a fun family bonding experience!”

“Glynda, we both know that together, you and I aren’t going to spend a twentieth of the time they will spend separately on that thing.”

“You… you don’t know that for sure!”

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Yaaaang! Happy birthday to you!”

Yang beamed, cheeks puffed as she blew out the candles. Jaune, Ruby, Katy, Orchid, and all the Arc sisters cheered around her in a happy, off-key chorus.

The adults gathered in the kitchen — laughter mixing with the smell of cake and frosting. Even Qrow had shown up, gift in hand. (It was Lien. His real gift — premium Mistrali hair product — had exploded mid-flight, and he still carried the cracked container as proof.)

“So,” Isabel said, leaning an elbow on the counter, smirking at him now that he couldn’t escape. “You gonna tell us what’s got you running off to Atlas so much lately?”

“Nope!” he replied, taking out his flask. When Glynda glared at him dangerously, he smirked. “Don't worry, it's cider. I wouldn't dream of disrespecting the holy ground that is the Xiao-Long–Rose–Goodwitch household.”

Glynda's glare sharpened at the implication, but Tai chuckled. “Qrow, I told you, it's not like that.” His muscles, however, were tensing. Qrow raised his hands in surrender and took a swig from his flask.

Glynda tried to ignore the sting in her heart when she noticed how insulted Tai looked from the man's joke. ‘Was he really that against…? No, stop it! Dangerous thoughts!’

‘Though of course he'd be against it. After what happened with the last two, I don't think Tai would be looking for anyone right now. WHY am I even thinking about this?!’

“I think it's a woman.”

The room went still.

All eyes turned to Nick, who had spoken up for the first time since the cake was brought out.

“Nick, honey, remember to swallow before we speak.” (Tai and Qrow's snickers were swiftly ended by a swat from Glynda and Isabel, respectively.)

Nick swallowed, then repeated, “I think it's a woman. In Atlas. With Qrow, I mean.”

The three adults stared at him before bursting out laughing. The kids all stopped and stared at them in confusion before going back to their cake.

“R-really? With Qrow?” Glynda gasped, hanging onto Tai for balance when they finally calmed down.

“Dear, remember, this is Qrow we're talking about.” Izzy's face was red from holding in more laughter.

“Yeah, Nick, I mean come on. It’s Qrow. Him? Settling down?” chuckled Tai.

Qrow scoffed. “Wow. Okay. I'll try not to feel too insulted.” None of them noticed the sweat rolling down his neck.

Tai laughed some more, and Nick pouted. “I still think it's a woman…” he muttered, while Isabel patted his shoulder.

Yang was, as expected, very excited about the Rintaro Morph. Ruby even more so, much to Glynda's amusement.

“Remember, though, this is for the family. Are we clear?” Tai lectured sternly. Yang didn't answer, instead rushing at him and crushing him in a bear hug. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Her father looked down awkwardly. “Oh, um, actually this one was all Glynda.” The woman shuffled her feet as Yang pulled back and stared at her. “Really?”

Glynda nodded, and was suddenly pinned onto the ground in a flurry of arms and squeals. “THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!”

All the adults laughed at her as she struggled to breathe, but despite that, Glynda couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

“Rubes does know it's not her birthday, right?...” muttered one of the Arcs. Probably Tangy.

Only Qrow noticed the raven perched high above on a tree branch outside.

Around One and a half Months After Radian

“I'm sorry…” Glynda muttered, watching Tai tap his foot in frustration. “You were right.”

Indeed, he was. The girls had, as he predicted, gotten addicted to the console. Between Tai’s endless job hunts and his Huntsman Anonymous meetings, and Glynda splitting her time between her own apartment and the homestead, no one had been around to enforce screen limits.

That changed one day the second she stepped back through the door. Ruby nearly tackled her, arms wrapped so tightly around her waist that Glynda had to brace herself against the wall. “Just bring your plants here, Auntie! You live here anyway!”

After that, her trips back to her apartment became fewer and fewer.

Sometimes she’d try to join the girls in their gaming sessions—usually without Tai. Though she recognized some older titles like Maria Cart and Maria Party (she never admitted it, but watching Arjun get knocked down a peg by Saia in that racing game was always entertaining), the girls decided to spend all their time on Super Strike Brothers, a game Glynda had never heard of before.

Tai sighed beside her, rubbing his face. “We really need to teach them moderation.”

Glynda nodded. “Agreed. Though I don’t imagine that will be an easy—”

“Auntie!” Ruby burst into the room mid-sentence, practically vibrating with excitement. “Come play with us!” She tugged at Glynda’s sleeve with both hands, trying to drag her toward the living room.

“Me? Not your father?” Glynda protested weakly, glancing toward Tai for rescue. “I assure you, I won’t be very good.”

‘Wait—why am I even protesting? Isn’t this what Tai and I wanted? To play together—?’

“Yeah, that’s kinda why we want you to play,” Yang called from the couch, smug as ever.

Glynda froze, feeling her composure crack just a little. Tai, wisely, began whistling and inching toward the hallway.

“Fine,” Glynda said at last, pushing up her glasses and sighing with exaggerated dignity. “I suppose I can indulge you children.”

Ruby cheered and dashed back to the console.

“They’ve got you wrapped around their little fingers,” Tai chuckled.

“Oh, please,” she shot back with a smirk. “As if you’re any better.”

She lost every single round that day. Spectacularly.

But as Ruby cackled and Yang whooped in triumph, Glynda couldn’t help smiling. For all her defeat, she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

“What? No way!” Yang groaned as the bright red Defeat logo flashed above her character.

Glynda set down the controller with a smug curl of her lips. “Still want me to keep playing?”

The next afternoon, when the girls invited her again, she accepted without hesitation—this time sitting beside them with confidence. It took a few rounds and a few embarrassing losses, but at last, she managed to pull off her first victory.

“You just got lucky,” Yang huffed, turning away.

Glynda bit back a chuckle. She knew Yang was just acting her age, but the petty satisfaction of finally winning felt incredible nonetheless.

“Woah! Nice job!” Tai called as he passed through the room, grinning from ear to ear. The casual praise made her cheeks warm, and she had to look away to hide the smile tugging at her mouth.

She calmed down though at the intense glare Yang shot at her. ‘Is she really that bothered that she lost?’ Glynda thought, trying not to sigh.

“Again!” Ruby chirped, bouncing in place and restarting the match.

They played another round. Yang said nothing this time—no teasing, no laughter—just an icy focus. When Glynda’s character went flying off the stage at the end, her character moaning about the Defeat above their head once more, the silence that followed was heavier than before.

“Um… good game?” Glynda offered, tentative.

Yang didn’t reply. She simply stood, jaw tight, and walked out of the room—leaving her controller on the couch and Glynda staring after her in stunned silence.

Around Two Months After Radian

“I really am sorry. I normally wouldn’t ask you for this, Glynda, but I truly have no other options,” said Ozpin… for what felt like the hundredth time.

The Beacon Headmaster had tried to reach her repeatedly during dinner, until eventually Glynda politely excused herself from the table just to answer in a different room. She folded one arm over her chest and kept her tone even.

“Ozpin, I have other commitments here I need to consider. Is there truly no one else you can send? Not even Qrow?”

He shook his head. “Qrow is… occupied at the moment. Besides, he wouldn't be able to fulfill Lionheart's request nearly as well as you could—”

Glynda tuned him out halfway through. It was always the same: Him insisting she was indispensable; that she was perfect for the job. Ozpin said she could take all the time she needed — yet here she was again, being pulled back into the fight. But she knew she couldn’t avoid the war forever. She had an obligation as a Huntress to uphold.

Finally, she cut in. “Fine, Ozpin. I’ll do it. But this does not mean I am returning to field duty. This is an exception.”

Ozpin nodded, desperation giving way to relief. “Of course, I understand. I'm… sorry for ruining your evening. Please, give my regards to Tai and the girls.”

She hung up before she could say anything she’d regret. The mission details arrived seconds later with a soft ping. Glynda stared at the screen, jaw tight, before exhaling and releasing all her tension.

“Fuck…”

The next morning, Glynda stood in her room, carefully folding her cape into a travel bag. The faint light of dawn slipped through the curtains.

“So… you're going,” a voice asked from behind her. Glynda turned, already knowing who it was.

Tai was leaning against the doorframe, watching her. She sighed and went back to packing.

“Ozpin assured me that I am by far the best candidate for this mission. It shouldn’t take too long—four days at most, he said.”

He nodded slowly, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “I see…”

Silence stretched between them, until Tai finally asked, quieter this time, “You’ll… be back, though, right?”

Glynda froze mid-fold. When she turned, the worry on his face hit her like a punch.

“Of course I’ll be back,” she said softly. “Why would you—”

Then she caught herself. The memory of her friend hit her next.

She stepped closer and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “Tai. I promise. I’ll come back. Please trust me.”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer. Then he sighed, lowering his head. “Okay. Sorry. It’s just… Ozpin’s crusade… It's taken so much from me already. I don’t want it to take my family from me again.”

Glynda’s heart twisted. “It won’t,” she whispered. “I promise you that too.”

Tai looked up at her, searching her face for something — reassurance, maybe, or truth — before pulling her into a quiet, desperate hug.

“Please,” he murmured against her shoulder, “don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

She said nothing, only closed her eyes and held him tighter.

“You’re leaving? Why?!”

Glynda’s composure cracked at the sight of their faces. Ruby’s lip trembled, her eyes glistening with panic. Yang’s fists were balled at her sides, her voice caught somewhere between anger and fear.

Leaning downwards, Glynda forced a small smile. “I’m so sorry, girls. Auntie Glynda just has to help someone for a few days, that’s all. I’ll be right back before you know it.”

“But that’s what she said too!” Yang blurted — then immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide.

The room went still.

Glynda’s throat tightened, and she dropped to her knees, wrapping both girls in her arms. “Girls, please. Don’t cry. I promise you, when I get back, we’ll make your favorite cookies and play Super Strike Brothers until we can’t move. Does that sound good?”

Yang sniffled, Ruby nodded against her shoulder. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to calm them — for now.

She rose slowly, floated her packed bag toward the door, and turned back to look at them — Tai, the girls, the warm little home she’d come to love.

“Be good while I’m gone,” she said softly, forcing another smile before stepping out into the morning light.

The door closed behind her with a quiet click.

On the path, she wiped at the corners of her eyes — and jumped when she heard the harsh caw of a raven above her, echoing from the trees.

After Glynda shut the door, silence filled the house.

Ruby fidgeted. “Yang… who were you talking about?”

Yang looked horrified at Ruby, though the younger girl only tilted her head, curious. 

Immediately, without answering, the older sister bolted upstairs to their room and slammed the door hard enough to rattle the frames.

Ruby turned to her father, confused and hurt. “Dad?”

But the older man just shook his head sadly. “Not tonight, Ruby.”

“Hey Dad… can we watch a movie together?”

“...”

“Dad?”

“Hm? What? Sorry Firecracker, what were you saying?”

“... Nevermind.”

The next couple of days were torture.

Yang spent most of her time glued to the console or borrowing her dad’s scroll to message Jaune. Ruby, having long forgotten the question she’d meant to ask her sister, filled her time with crayons and paper — drawing smiling stick figures of her family and friends, trying to make the pages look full, happy, complete.

Sometimes the sisters tried playing Maria Cart together, but neither really had their hearts in it. The laughter that usually filled the house felt incomplete now, as if it was missing someone to fill in the empty spots.

Meanwhile, Tai… just felt empty.

Not as bad as those first weeks, when everything had almost fallen apart, but enough that the house seemed quieter, colder. His job search slowed to a crawl, and on the fifth night, a night longer than Glynda said she’d need, he nearly set the kitchen on fire trying to cook dinner.

Mostly, though, he hated how lonely it felt without her.

He’d caught himself thinking it once, then immediately scolded himself. ‘How can I say that when I have my girls right here?’

But the thought kept clawing back in the silence. The meetings helped, yes, but the temptation lingered. Some nights, he found himself staring at the liquor aisle at the Supermarket like it was reaching out to him, begging for him to return.

‘Am I really that dependent on her? That pathetic on my own?’ he thought bitterly. ‘Why do I always need someone to hold the house together for me?’

Then, without realizing, he whispered, “I miss Glynda.”

A small weight shifted beside him.

“I miss her too,” Ruby said softly, appearing out of thin air.

Tai froze, then exhaled a shaky breath before pulling her into a hug. And all of a sudden, for a split second… he didn’t feel quite so alone anymore.

He stood suddenly. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk, you two.”

Ruby blinked. “A walk?”

“Yeah. I think… we could all use it.”

The air outside was crisp, the sky streaked orange and rose as the sun sank behind the trees. Ruby’s hand was warm in his, and Yang walked ahead of them, kicking pebbles down the dirt road.

“This is nice,” Tai murmured.

The girls hummed in vague agreement, distracted, but he meant it. It was nice… quiet even. A little cold, sure, but autumn was close now.

‘It'd be nice if the whole family could be here,’ he thought.

Then paused.

That was the second time he’d caught himself calling her that — family. Which felt strange. Not a bad strange. Just… strang—.

“Auntie?” Ruby’s voice cut through his thoughts.

He blinked down at her. “Sweetie, what?”

But Ruby just pointed ahead. Tai followed her gaze, and his eyes widened.

There, a little ways down the road, walking toward them with her briefcase hovering beside her, was Glynda Goodwitch.

Yang stopped dead in her tracks. Then, as Glynda looked up and spotted them, the world seemed to hold its breath.

“AUNTIE!” both girls screamed at once, bolting forward before Tai could even react.

Glynda barely had time to drop her briefcase before the twin torpedoes collided into her, arms wrapping tight as they tackled her onto the dirt path. She laughed, breathless, clutching them close as the girls buried their faces against her shoulders.

“Girls! Oh, it is so good to see you! What are you doing out here?”

“Dad took us for a walk!” Ruby chirped, her voice muffled in Glynda’s coat. “He said it’d be good for us!”

Glynda chuckled, brushing Ruby’s hair back. “Did he now?”

By the time Tai caught up, she was already on her knees again, still holding both girls close as they clung to her. When their eyes met, both of them smiled warmly.

“Welcome home,” Tai said simply.

If Yang's hug grew stiffer, Glynda pretended not to notice.

“How did you get better while you were gone?!”

“Honey, I'm sorry, but I really don't know!”

“Again! This time we can beat her, right, Yang?”

“Oh? Is that right?”

Around Three Months After Radian

“So, Ruby's birthday is coming up,” Tai said one morning as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

Glynda blinked, the déjà vu making her smile.

“I know, right?” Tai chuckled. “Feels like we just did this. Difference is, this time Ruby already knows what she wants — she wants to spend her birthday in Radian.”

‘Easy enough,’ Glynda thought, setting her mug down. “Are Nick and Isabel all right with that?”

Tai nodded. “Oh, yeah. Izzy was delighted. Apparently, Jaune’s been pestering her nonstop about when he can see Yang again.”

She laughed softly. “Am I taking care of the gifts again? That mission bonus from last month was… generous.”

Instead of protesting like last time, Tai clasped his hands dramatically and dropped to his knees. “Oh please, wise and wonderful Goddess, bless this humble peasant with your Infinite Wealth!”

The laugh that came bursting out from Glynda filled the kitchen. She nearly spilled her coffee while wiping the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

She didn’t notice Tai staring at her — the way his grin had faded into something gentler, how he looked up at her in awe.

“…Beautiful,” he breathed, almost to himself.

She blinked. “Hmm? Did you say something?”

Tai flinched, spinning away. “Erk!—I mean, no, nothing. How about this: with some of the extra money I've pulled from the odd jobs I've been doing around Patch—”

“I wouldn't judge you if you decided to become a male stripper, by the way.” Glynda interrupted, brow arched with a smirk tugging at her lips.

“I'd be a fantastic stripper, but that's beside the point. I was going to suggest—how about we both do presents?”

Glynda smiled warmly. “Of course, Tai. We can do that.”

They smiled at each other for a little longer before Tai finally cleared his throat and headed off to wake the kids.

The moment he was gone, Glynda turned back to her coffee, her face erupting red.

“…He called me beautiful,” she whispered, the words barely audible — but her smile gave her away.

While Yang was still at school, Tai and Glynda stood outside Ruby’s door and knocked softly. Gently opening the door, they were met with the faint sound of humming while Ruby was sketching, her legs swinging off the edge of the bed.

“Ruby? Can we come in?” Tai asked, peeking his head inside.

Ruby turned, her face lighting up as she paused her music. “Hi, Dad! Hi, Auntie!”

Glynda smiled back. “If I understand your father correctly, someone has a birthday coming up.”

The little girl nodded eagerly. “Yep! Are we going to see Orchid?”

Tai laughed. “Whoa, slow down there, kiddo. At least let us keep some surprises.”

“Fiiiiine,” Ruby pouted, crossing her arms in exaggerated defeat.

Glynda chuckled. “We just wanted to ask if you’ve thought of anything special you’d like this year.”

Ruby shifted nervously, pushing her pointer fingers together, eyes flickering back and forth from the floor to Glynda’s eyes. “Well, um…”

Tai frowned. ‘Where did all her energy go?’

“If it's too uncomfortable for you to talk about it with me in the room, kiddo, I can leave you and Glynda—”

“Can you be my mom?”

……

…

……

…

…What?

The world seemed to stop.

Glynda’s breath caught. Tai froze mid-motion, every sound in the house fading to a dull hum.

“…What?” Tai finally managed, voice soft.

Ruby’s eyes lifted, wide and unsure. “Well, it's just… I asked Orchid what it's like to have a mom. She said her mom is always there to give her hugs when she's sad, or—or help her when she gets hurt. How her mom is the strongest person she knows, and… well… that just… sounded like you, Auntie Glynda.”

Glynda’s throat tightened. ‘Oh, brothers—my heart.’ She dared not look at Tai. ‘Please believe me. I didn’t ask for this. I’m not trying–’

Tai knelt down beside Ruby. His voice was gentle, but it carried a weight that made Glynda’s chest ache. “Kiddo it’s… it’s not that simple. You already have a mom.”

Ruby shook her head. “But I don't really!”

Tai looked like he'd been slapped. But Ruby pressed on, small and trembling. “I mean, I know I have a mommy! You and Yang and Auntie Glynda tell me about her all the time… even Uncle Qrow! But… I don't even remember her. So I just… I just thought… maybe I could have another mom.”

Tai’s ears were ringing. He tried to ignore the way his stomach dropped at the desperate look Ruby shot him when she asked that.

“Oh, Ruby, I’m sorry, but—” Glynda began softly, unsure where to go from there.

Tai stepped in, his tone calm but steady. “What Glynda means is that… there are a lot of steps that have to happen before something like that.”

Ruby sniffled. “Like what?”

Glynda turned to Tai, curious about where he’s going with this. He nervously scratched the back of his neck, fumbling for words. “Well—that's, ahem, uh… first, they'd need to go on dates, and kiss, and get married, and… well, they should love each other but that doesn’t always—.”

“But don't you?”

They froze again, exchanging an awkward glance from the corners of their eyes.

“Well, I—”

“I mean—”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”

Ruby tilted her head, blinking confusedly at their simultaneous breakdown.

‘It should be easy to say no,’ Glynda thought. ‘So why isn’t it?’

Tai took a deep breath. “It's… complicated, Ruby.” 

Glynda’s eyes widened when he said that. ‘Complicated?!’

Ruby’s head dropped, her voice small. “Oh…”

Shaking her head, Glynda forced the onslaught of her own questions that were rising up towards the back of her mind, and put on a gentle smile. “Is there anything else you’d like, dear?”

But Ruby just shrugged. “Not really…”

The adults stared at her for some time, while Ruby refused to meet their eyes and continued to look down at the ground.

The older woman pulled her into a hug. “How about you think of something and then come tell us, okay?”

Ruby nodded. Tai and Glynda lingered for a moment, unsure what to say, then quietly stepped out, closing the door behind them.

In the hallway, Glynda let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She spun toward Tai, pale and frantic.

“Tai, I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t put her up to this—I’m don’t know why— where she got— Please you—”

“I know, Glynda.” His voice was calm, but he kept his back facing towards her. “It's okay. It's not your fault.”

He turned and walked down the hall without another word, and left Glynda standing there, alone, frozen.

Slowly, she turned back to Ruby's room. The music she heard coming from inside earlier still hadn’t resumed.

Can you be my mom?

Glynda’s trembling voice cut through the stillness. “…Oh no…”

“Something happened, didn't it?”

Days later, Glynda and Isabel were outside, stringing up decorations in the Backyard of the Arc Farm. Ever since that day, the air between Glynda and Tai hummed with unspoken tension. Nick had taken Tai out with the kids on a walk through the forest, while Isabel stayed behind to help Glynda finish setting up the party.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Glynda replied without looking up, her voice clipped. “Everything is fine.”

Yes. Fine. Everything is fine.

It's… complicated.

What did he mean by that? It wasn’t complicated. All Tai had to say was ‘Ruby, I still love your dead mother, and I don’t want to betray her memory.’ Simple. Clean. Responsible.

Yeah, right. Try explaining that to a five-year-old.

“Really?” Isabel pressed, brows lifting. “Because poor Ruby looks like she’s walking on eggshells whenever she talks to you. Did something happen?”

Glynda’s voice softened. “It’s… complicated.”

It's… complicated.

“…Do you want to talk about it?” Isabel asked gently. 

Glynda finished hanging the banner with a flick of her semblance, arms stiff at her sides. “When we asked Ruby what she wanted for her birthday… she said she wanted me to be her mother.”

Isabel blinked, her expression softening. “…Ah. Yes. That would complicate things.”

“But it shouldn’t!” Glynda’s control cracked; the ribbons she’d been floating dropped, spiraling to the floor. “All I did was help a friend through grief! Like a good person should do! I was fine being Auntie Glynda—I love that role! I love them. But this—this feels like too much. I can’t—”

Her breath quickened. The world blurred.

“Okay, Glynda, I've got you. Deep breaths.” Isabel's voice was calm, steady. Glynda was hyperventilating now. “Let's sit down for a second. Deep breaths.”

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Isabel guided her to the deck and sat down with her on the steps. “Honestly… I'm the one with the semblance that lets me turn off my emotions, and you were still the one called Ice Queen. You have that control still, Glynda. Find it again. Take a step back, and focus.”

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

When Glynda finally found her center again, her voice was smaller. “...It was Ice Bitch, actually.”

Isabel let out a surprised bark of laughter. “Ha! Please. That was my nickname. You were the Queen because that’s what half the boys at Beacon wanted you to be for them.”

That earned a faint snort. “If you say so.” Glynda rubbed her temples, cheeks flushed. “I’m… sorry you had to see that.”

“Glynda,” Isabel said gently, “I may be a doctor, but I am also your friend. You can be vulnerable with me… The fact that you're under so much stress just shows how important this is to you.”

Glynda said nothing, hanging her head between her legs and resting her hands on her neck. When Isabel reached out and rubbed her shoulder, Glynda leaned into the connection.

“Glynda,” her friend asked softly, “what were your feelings toward your own mother?”

Glynda hesitated. “…She was… incredible. She was there for me, always… she loved me, and… the moment I started to doubt that, I lost her. I lost them.”

She remembered the last conversation they had. The shouting, the tears, the door slamming behind her. She remembered receiving the call in the middle of class, collapsing in the empty hallways. Nick had found her, picked her up without a word, and brought her to her team's dorm.

Isabel nodded. “I remember that day. I'm sorry.”

Glynda continued, not wanting to dwell on the details more than necessary. “It took losing them for me to remember that, despite everything I had said, everything I screamed… She was still my mother. And I hate myself every day for not thanking her before I lost the chance.”

She sniffled and rubbed her eyes. “Why? Where are you going with this?”

Isabel smiled softly, kind and motherly, as Glynda replayed her words in her mind. “No matter the pain or loss… you would still do anything to have your parents back, wouldn't you? So why then would it be different for Ruby and Yang wanting you in that place?”

“Because it is different!” Glynda stood, anger flaring. “Because I’m not their mother! I’m an outsider, Isabel. Who am I to take her place—let alone in his heart?”

Isabel looked up at her from the steps. “Maybe let them decide that, hm?”

Glynda… didn't have a response. She sat again, smaller now, arms wrapped around herself.

Isabel pulled her slightly closer. “Honestly, Glynda… do you think my family is picture-perfect?”

Glynda turned her head slightly toward her. “We're all blood-related, sure, but that doesn't make it more of a family than yours. Like every family, we still have problems, fights, bad times…”

“My family…” Glynda murmured. 

Images flickered through her mind — the food fight that ended with a bowl of sauce dripping down her hair; afternoons spent with the girls, their laughter spilling into the air as her competitive streak sharpened to the point that Yang would barely see the victory screen anymore. Singing along with Ruby to songs from her scroll, floating her gently through the air with her semblance while the child giggled, pretending to be a bird, a plane, or something entirely her own.

“…I know, so do we,” Glynda admitted, realizing that arguing with herself was a losing battle. “Yang is… moody, to say the least. Ruby is naive, and her innocence still gets her into trouble sometimes. And Tai is…”

She faltered.

More memories surfaced: Tai’s laughter echoing through the kitchen after her latest victory against Yang; the way his eyes softened whenever he looked at his daughters; his hopelessly off-key voice joining theirs in song, turning chaos into warmth; the way his smile made her heart flutter even through the groans of pain she made at his terrible, terrible puns.

Each image settled in her chest, one by one, until she realized what they had quietly become… what he had become.

Home.

Isabel smiled, finishing her sentence for her. “Tai is… Tai. But you still love him.”

Glynda gave a watery laugh and rubbed her eyes again. “You were right… as usual. Though love is… probably too strong of a word right now. Maybe… 'like' fits better.”

She smirked at Isabel. “Gods, listen to me. Sounding more like a stereotypical schoolgirl than I did at Beacon.”

They both laughed, but Glynda’s laughter faded into a sigh. “But I know he would not love me back, and I could never expect him to.”

Isabel scoffed and slipped her hand into Glynda's. “Again, Glynda… let him decide. Given what he's been through, he's probably just as scared to fall in love as you are. He might even think he's betraying Summer's memory and the girls by being selfish.”

Glynda wouldn't blame him. After all, that was the same issue she had.

“And wouldn't he be?” she asked Isabel aloud. “Would it be wrong of him to think that?”

Isabel let go of her hand and gave her a light, swift chop to the head. “Of course it's wrong! You too! We all knew Summer. Would she be unhappy if you two found love and happiness after her death?”

Glynda rubbed her forehead, thinking. She had never considered that.

“I-I don't… No, not her…” she whispered. “B-but what if—”

An older, posh voice interrupted from behind them.

“What if, what if, what if! What if the moon falls on us tomorrow? What if the stars go out? What ifs are beneath you, young lady.”

Arturia Pendragon-Arc, matriarch of the Arc family, sat behind them, quietly sipping her tea. She had been observing the exchange while helping with party setup. (“Anything to help my darling grand-nieces,” she said earlier, already fond of them as family.)

Glynda blinked. “I… pardon?”

Arturia continued. “You can face a horde of Grimm without fear… yet the chance to be happy fills you with doubt?” Glynda opened her mouth to interject, but Isabel silenced her as Arturia took another sip of tea. “All life is a battle against enemies within and without. All courage is ultimately about conquering fear and doing what needs to be done.”

Her eyes dug into Glynda. “Do you care for this man? Care for his children? Would you want to be a family with them?”

Glynda imagined it… and realized how easy it felt. “…Yes. Yes, I do.”

Arturia nodded. “Would you fight an army of Grimm to keep them safe?”

“Without question. Two armies if need be,” Glynda replied, confidently this time.

The Arc matriarch smiled. “Then where is the problem, hm? Now go! Fight for them! Announce your love to the world! Claim him as your own! Tell his children what they mean to you! How you will never harm them!” She smirked. “That's what worked for me.”

Isabel sighed. “Nana, not everyone is you.”

“Well, they should be!” she huffed, sipping tea again.

Glynda laughed. “That's moving far too fast for me. Perhaps a date or two first, if he's interested.”

“Bah!” Arturia scoffed. “When you expose yourself to Grimm, you are vulnerable. When you expose your heart, you are equally vulnerable. At least only one usually ends in death.”

Isabel sighed again, “Nana, again, an oversimplification.”

But Glynda laughed heartily. “Mrs. Arturia, you truly are one magnificent woman.”

She turned back to her work. “Luckily, Tai isn't as dense as he once was. And we aren't nervous schoolchildren anymore.”

No, they weren’t. They were adults, and they could handle this… whatever this was like adults.

Suddenly, Glynda clapped her hands and stood. “But! This trip isn't about me! It's about Ruby and her birthday! Let's get back to work!”

Isabel jumped up, cheering. “Agreed!”

Arturia moved to grab her blade. “Wonderful! Let us go get that Deathstalker then!”

Again, Isabel sighed. “Nana, no. She's turning five.”

Glynda leaves the arguing women behind, smiling all the way and returns to hanging decorations.

“Something happened, didn’t it?”

Tai groaned. He’d forgotten that for all of Nick’s simplicity, the man was alarmingly emotionally aware.

“It’s nothing,” Tai muttered, eyes fixed ahead. The path wound gently through the forest, sunlight flickering through the canopy. Up ahead, Ruby was giggling at something Jaune said, while Yang and Katy trailed behind, arguing about their plans for winter break.

Nick grinned. “Nah! Something’s definitely bothering you. It’s in your eyes.”

When Tai ignored him and kept walking, something poked him in the face.

“OW! What the hel—heck, Nick?” Tai snapped, rubbing the spot.

“C’mon! Tell your old pal Nicky!” Nick kept poking his cheek. Poke. Poke.

Poke. “You.” Poke. “Know.” Poke. “You.” Poke. “Want. To.”

After a few more jabs, Tai spun around, catching Nick’s hand mid-poke. “Enough, Nick! I mean it!”

The kids turned, startled. Yang and Ruby froze mid-step. Tai kept sneering at Nick, but the only sound now between them was the wind blowing by.

Nick stared at Tai before he turned to Lilac with an uncharacteristically calm expression. “Lilac, honey, keep going. We’ll catch up.”

Yang hesitated, but Tai gave her a reassuring nod. One by one, the kids continued down the path, their voices fading with the rustle of leaves.

When it was quiet again, Nick turned back to him, finger still in Tai’s grasp. His voice softened. “…Tai. What happened?” 

Tai sighed, shoulders slumping. He sank onto a nearby bench, elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his palms. Nick stayed standing beside him, uncharacteristically still.

Eventually, Tai spoke through his fingers, exhausted. “Ruby asked Glynda to be her mother.”

Nick blinked. “... And that’s bad?”

“No! Yes! I don’t know?!” Tai threw up his hands. “I’m glad Ruby has someone like that in her life! I just… I wish it could’ve been Summer. But then Ruby said she doesn’t even remember her, and the only person she can picture when someone describes a mom is Glynda. And it's… I don’t want Glynda to just be a replacement.”

Nick sat beside him. “Just? So… you’re saying you’ve considered it?”

Tai flushed, but didn’t look away. “Look, I’m not blind. She’s beautiful — everyone knows that. And she’s kind, and funny, and—” he stopped, shaking his head with a helpless smile. “But it’s not just that.”

He drew in a slow breath. 

He remembered Glynda’s endless patience with him, how she supported his recovery every step of the way, even if sometimes she had to step up on days when he failed.

He remembered coming home late one evening to find all three of them—Glynda, Yang, and Ruby—crammed into the old armchair, asleep in a tangle of limbs, each one drooling on the other. The sight of her muttering in her sleep, her signature curl of hair stuck in her mouth while she pulled the girls closer to her is an image he’ll remember until his final breath.

He thought about how she one day decided to join his morning runs, her matching his pace without ever seeming winded, laughing as he trailed behind. When he’d start to slow, she’d drift closer, her voice teasing but warm. And when his legs finally gave out, she’d reach out with a flick of her wrist, her telekinesis lifting him just enough to glide beside her.

She never stopped running. She just slowed down—enough for him to keep up, enough to keep talking.

Tai turns back to Nick, smiling faintly. “I’ve seen what she does at home. She cooks with them, cleans with them, helps Yang with homework, reads Ruby bedtime stories… She’s already their mom in every way except name.”

Nick tilted his head. “And… that’s bad?”

“Well… no, not really I guess… not for them. I owe her everything. If she hadn’t shown up, I—” Tai stopped himself, looking away. “I don’t even want to think about that.”

Nick leaned back, and asked the million-lien question: “So… what’s stopping you from making it official?”

“Because I don’t love her? Because I love Summer?” Tai shot back, as if the answer were obvious.

“But buddy,” Nick started carefully, “Summer’s gone—”

“Yes, thank you, Nick,” Tai snapped, running a hand through his hair. “I’m aware. It’s just…” His voice trailed off. The silence returned, heavier this time. A swallow chirped somewhere in the trees.

“That’s not really why you’re upset though, is it?” Nick said finally.

Tai let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “You’re annoyingly good at this emotional-awareness thing, you know that?”

Nick grinned. “Ah, well, I just treat everything in life like I’m fighting a battle!”

“That explains so much,” Tai muttered flatly.

But Nick’s expression softened. “Kind of like you right now—with your feelings for Glynda.”

The heavy silence returned.

“What are you talking about, Nick? Didn’t you just hear what I said?” Tai asked, struggling to control his frustration.

Nick nodded. “You said you didn’t love her. You didn’t say you don’t feel something for her.”

For a long moment, Tai said nothing. Then his shoulders slumped again. “…Brothers damn it.”

Nick whooped. “Ha! I knew it! Buddy, if even I can see it, then it’s obvious.”

Tai groaned, slumping lower on the bench.

“So,” Nick teased while wiggling his eyebrows, “are you gonna make Glynda a mommy now?”

“Absolutely not.” Tai said flatly.

Nick blinked. “But… you said—?” He stopped when Tai rounded on him, a feral anger flashing in his eyes.

“Let me tell you something, Nick.” Tai’s voice was sharp now, cutting. “Last time a woman left my life, I fell in love with the first one who showed up to pick up the pieces. Then she left too. Now this new woman—this amazing, incredible woman—shows up, and it’s starting all over again. What happens when I lose her too, Nick? Am I just gonna sit here, waiting for fucking… Willow Schnee to knock on my door next?!” 

He stood, pacing, voice rising. “When Glynda went on a mission for Ozpin for one week—just one week, Nick—I shut down. We all shut down. I couldn’t get my head out of my ass long enough to be there for my kids, because apparently I always need someone to hold my hand. I can’t do that anymore! She’ll just be another Summer, and I can’t do that to them—I can’t do that to her!”

By now his voice had cracked into a shout, raw and trembling. “She’s been holding us together since the moment she stepped through that door—and she doesn’t even realize it. And I will thank her for that for the rest of my life, but I won’t ruin everything by turning her into another Summer. And—fuck—I’m so pathetic!”

He collapsed back onto the bench, shaking. “I’m just… so pathetic, Nick. I can’t do this on my own. And I can’t rely on her forever.”

Poke.

Poke poke.

Tai raised his head just enough to glare. “Really? Now? You’re doing this no—”

“You’re being stupid,” Nick interrupted.

That shut him up.

“Glynda isn’t Summer. Summer isn’t Glynda,” Nick said firmly. “It’s not fair to compare them. You know that.”

Tai tried to argue, but Nick clapped a hand over his mouth. “Stop talking. My turn. Hush. You keep assuming everything will fail—that Glynda will leave. Did you ever consider that maybe, if she’s happy, she’ll stay? Are you saying you don’t trust her to keep herself and your kids safe?”

Tai blinked, then slowly shook his head.

Nick smiled. “Then stop overthinking it. If being alone hasn’t helped, then being alone won’t help. You don’t need her to hold your hand. Just… walk beside her instead.”

He dropped his hand, still smiling. Tai stared at him in silence. For a while, the only sound was the forest again — the wind through the leaves, the chirp of another swallow.

“It… really is that simple, huh?” Tai murmured.

“Yep! Just like a battle,” Nick laughed, clapping him on the back.

The silence that followed was comfortable this time. In front of them, a Swallow flew down onto the ground, before it was joined by a second, smaller one. Tai watched as together, they picked through the dirt, looking for bugs.

“You like Glynda, you like Glynda!” Nick sing-songed.

“Brothers, Nick, you are such a child…” Tai muttered.

Something had changed—both of them could tell.

When Tai returned with Nick and the kids, Glynda noticed the difference immediately. He carried himself differently now—lighter, unburdened, free.

Tai, in turn, noticed the look in her eyes: clear, steady, full of quiet determination. The conflict that used to linger there was gone.

They stood side by side, shoulders brushing, as Ruby blew out the candles on her cake—officially marking her fifth birthday. She hadn't asked for another present after all, saying that being there with her family was enough this year.

Both of her parents smiled at that.

Around Six Months After Radian (March)

It was late. Tai was out for another job interview, so it was up to her to make dinner.

Yang was upstairs doing her homework, and Ruby was spending the weekend over in Radian. Yang had been invited too but declined, muttering something about a “broken promise” from Isabel. Neither she nor Ruby offered any context, and Glynda—preoccupied with her own thoughts—let the matter drop.

Since Ruby’s birthday, despite both of them sensing the shift between them, neither Tai nor Glynda had managed to act on it. Not for lack of trying—just… timing. Whenever one of them found the courage to bring it up, something would intervene. Yang tugging one of them onto the couch, a job interview from Vale, a last-minute errand. The universe seemed intent on keeping them circling each other.

“That's okay though,” Glynda muttered to herself, stirring the pot. “This is fine.”

It wasn't fine.

The tension building between them was unbearable. Every near-conversation dissolved into silence, every lingering glance only made it worse. Every time she found the courage to bring… it… up, Tai would suddenly get busy. And every time Tai asked if she had a moment to talk, something urgent would demand her attention instead.

She nearly screamed in frustration, stopping herself only because of the girl studying upstairs.

Then the front door slammed open. Before she could even process what was happening, a blur of blonde crashed into her, lifting her off the ground and spinning her in circles.

The warmth of his presence chased away any fear, and Glynda burst out laughing just as Tai set her back down.

“What on Remnant was that about?” she asked between breaths.

Tai, still grinning, didn't let go of her waist. “I did it! I actually did it!”

“You—” Glynda gasped. “You got the job?”

He nodded.

She let out a delighted laugh, jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck. They spun again, laughter echoing throughout the kitchen.

When she finally caught her breath, she set the pot aside on the stove and turned back to him. “I can't believe it! Taiyang Xiao-Long, a teacher at Signal.”

Tai pouted. “Oi, what's that supposed to mean? You don’t think I can handle it?”

Glynda laughed softly, hiding her smile behind her hand. “No, it's just… half a year ago, you told me to become a teacher because of how well I helped you at Beacon. Look how the tables have turned.”

“Heh, you're right,” Tai said bashfully. “I couldn't have done this without you.”

She shook her head, stepping closer. “Tai… you can't keep giving me credit for all your successes. This one was all you. Be proud of yourself.”

Tai leaned into her touch as she cupped his cheek. “What are you talking about? Of course I can.”

Her heart stuttered, and she finally noticed how they were standing. Both of them blushing.

Oh…

With a sigh, she stepped backwards. “What are we doing, Tai?” she murmured. “Dancing around this change… as if we're teenagers again.”

He swallowed. “So… you noticed it too?”

Glynda nodded slowly. “Well, less noticed and more… had my eyes opened by a friend a while back.”

His eyes widened. “No way. Ruby's birthday?”

She nodded again.

Tai rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you think they planned that together?”

Glynda tilted her head. “Does it matter?”

He thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Not really,” he admitted.

A delicate silence filled the kitchen again.

“Sooo…” Tai started, scratching the back of his neck, “where does that leave us?”

Glynda stiffened. She hadn't thought that far ahead. “I… suppose we could see where this goes?”

Tai chuckled nervously. “Dinner? I mean—an actual dinner. Not that your dinners aren't great! I just meant maybe… There's this nice restaurant in Vale? Well, not that one—the food's terrible—but there's another place that's really—”

He stopped when her lips met his.

It wasn't a hungry kiss, but a gentle one. Warm. Careful. Perfect.

When she pulled away, her smile trembled faintly. “Dinner sounds nice.”

Tai exhaled, grinning dazedly. “Okay. Yeah. Dinner. Next week. We can drop the kids off at Radian and—”

He froze. Glynda blinked, confused, then turned to follow his gaze.

Standing in the doorway, clutching her homework with trembling hands, was Yang. Her eyes were wide, shimmering with tears.

“Yang—wait—” Glynda started.

But the girl was already gone, bolting up the stairs and slamming her door so hard dust fell from the ceiling.

The two adults stared at the empty doorway, the silence broken only by the harsh caw of a raven outside the window—sounding almost like laughter.

Chapter Text

2 Minutes Later

Glynda took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Yang? Can I come in?”

No answer.

The light beneath the door was dark. She hesitated only a moment before turning the knob.

Yang was curled on her bed, face buried in her arms, shoulders trembling.

Glynda didn’t speak. She sat quietly at the foot of the bed, hands folded in her lap. Her fingers hovered—wanting to reach out—but she stopped herself.

They stayed that way for nearly half an hour before Glynda finally whispered, “Yang, I—”

“You promised.”

The words froze her in place.

When Yang finally looked up, her eyes were red, her voice small. There was no anger in her face anymore—just pure, aching sadness. “You told me you’re not here to replace Mom.”

Glynda’s heart splintered. “Yang, I swear, I’m not here to replace Summer. Please—believe me.”

Yang shook her head, tears spilling again. “No! I don’t believe you! Dad loves you more than he loves Mom now! He doesn’t even talk about her anymore! It’s always about you—what you said, what you did—”

She didn’t finish. Glynda pulled her close, holding her tight against her chest. No words, just the slow, steady rhythm of her hand brushing through Yang’s hair.

Yang broke completely, wailing into her shoulder. Glynda’s own tears blurred her vision, but she stayed strong—for both of them.

When she calmed down, Yang leaned against Glynda’s shoulder, curling beside her, small and quiet again. Glynda kept tracing gentle circles in her hair. Memories flickered through her mind—how Yang always found excuses to interrupt her and Tai, pulling her aside for help with her homework, or him after she all of a sudden wanted to play catch again; how she’d sit between them at dinner, both at home and in public; appearing out of thin air during walks, during quiet moments that might have become something more.

“You’ve known… longer than we have, haven’t you?” Glynda asked quietly.

Yang nodded. "You guys kept giving each other funny looks. And your faces got all red whenever you said something nice. Saphron told me that’s what happens when two people like each other."

Glynda almost smiled. “So those times you glared at me after your father cheered me on during Super Strike Bros…”

Yang nodded again.

“I thought you were just mad that you lost.”

Yang let out a weak giggle. “I was! But also… I thought Dad was forgetting about Mom.”

“Oh, honey…” Glynda turned fully toward her. Yang’s eyes were tired, but clear now. “Your dad will never, ever forget your mother. Neither will I. We both loved her very much.”

Yang let out another quiet little sob. “Then why…?”

Why indeed?

“I don’t know, Yang.” Glynda’s smile was small and full of sadness. “When I first came here, you and Ruby were my top priority. All I wanted was to make sure your father could stand on his own two feet—so you could be happy—before I went back to my own life.”

She glanced toward the photos pinned to the wall—their laughter frozen in snapshots, Ruby’s crayon drawings taped in uneven rows. Her eyes stopped on one picture: after the food fight, sauce dripping from her hair, Ruby and Yang in her arms, all three of them laughing.

“But at some point,” she whispered, “and I don't even know when… I realized that I wanted to stay. That I was happy—so happy—being a part of this family. And your father… he makes me happy too. And… whenever I go back to my own place… all I can think about is that it never feels like home anymore. Because to me now… my home now is the three of you.”

She looked back at Yang. “Does that make any sense?”

Yang scrunched her face, thinking hard. “...No. But I’m probably too young to get it yet. That’s what Uncle Nick says a lot.”

Glynda chuckled softly. “He’s going to be ‘too young’ to understand a lot of things for a long time, I believe.”

They shared a quiet laugh, and for a moment the air felt lighter.

They sat together in silence for a while longer, until Glynda spoke again. “Yang, I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am.”

Yang shook her head. “It’s not really your fault. Adult feelings are weird. And… I like it when Dad’s happy, so…”

Glynda smiled through the ache. “Since when did you get so mature?”

Yang snickered. “I talk to Saphron and Lilac a lot. They’re… nice.”

Glynda raised a brow. “Saphron? Nice? Hm.”

Yang giggled, and Glynda brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“Listen,” Glynda said quietly, “Summer will always be your mother. I understand that. I would never try to change it. But the time I’ve spent here… has shown me that, although I may not be your mother, you and Ruby have become the closest thing to daughters I’ve ever had.”

Yang didn’t say anything, so Glynda went on, her voice barely above a trembling whisper. “And I’m hoping you’ll give me the chance to let me treat you as if you are.”

The silence that followed was heavy—oppressive, even. Glynda held her breath.

“...Okay.”

That night, the three of them fell asleep together on the couch—Yang sandwiched snugly between them.

Glynda felt like she was going to melt. ‘Why did I decide to wear a sweater for this?’ she thought, half delirious from the heat.

But when she looked down at the two sleeping forms beside her—the father and daughter breathing softly in unison—she decided she didn’t care. Not one bit.

With a quiet sigh, she closed her eyes and let herself drift off.

Outside the window, the raven was long gone.

2 Days since Tai and Glynda got together (Yang is 7, Ruby is 5)

March

Ruby had come home the night before, but she’d been so exhausted from all the excitement at Radian that she’d fallen asleep the instant her head hit the pillow.

Yang, on the other hand, was still uneasy about the shift between Tai and Glynda. She didn’t complain anymore—just kept her distance. If either of them got too close, she always seemed to find a reason to leave the room.

Tai told Glynda not to worry. “She’s a kid. To her, even kissing’s still gross.” So Glynda left it alone.

Tai was up first that morning, whistling softly as he cracked eggs into a skillet. The smell of bacon was already curling through the kitchen when small footsteps padded down the hall.

He felt arms wrap around his waist from behind. The corners of his mouth lifted. No guessing needed.

“Good morning, Ice Queen,” he said, amused.

All he got was a tired groan. Glynda pressed her forehead against his back, unwilling to move.

“Coffee?” he offered.

Her nose nudged him in response.

He chuckled and poured her a cup from the fresh pot.

“…Thanks,” she murmured, accepting it with a lazy hand—and then gingerly leaned in to kiss his cheek before taking a sip.

“Ew.”

Both adults turned. Yang sat at the table, glaring like she’d just witnessed a crime over her cereal.

Before anyone could answer, a shriek split the air.

“AUNTIE?!”

Glynda jumped, the mug slipping from her fingers and shattering on the tile. For a second, she was more heartbroken over the spilled coffee than the shock itself—until her brain caught up.

Ruby stood in the doorway, wide-eyed and beaming. And then she launched herself forward.

“I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!” she squealed, bouncing up and down, hugging them both as best she could.

“Whoa, kiddo!” Tai laughed, steadying her. “Easy! Auntie Glynda’s still half-asleep.”

Ruby gasped and immediately backed up. “Oh! Sorry! But—wait!” She brightened again. “She’s not Auntie anymore, right? Can I call her Mom now?!”

Glynda froze.

Yang crossed her arms, tone flat but eyes flickering with quiet hurt. “Nope. Not yet.”

Ruby blinked. “Huh? Why not? Don’t you love each other now?”

Tai’s laugh came out awkwardly. “There’s… still a few steps before that, kiddo, remember? Like getting married, for one. And that’s not happening anytime soon.”

‘Marriage?!’ Glynda’s mind shrieked, all traces of sleep gone. ‘We haven’t even been on a first date yet!’

Ruby pouted but nodded solemnly. “Fine! I can wait. I’m a big girl.”

Tai chuckled, but Glynda barely heard him. Her thoughts had already spun out of control—flashes of white fabric, a bouquet in her hands, Tai in a tux, smiling at her the way he did when he thought she wasn’t looking.

By the time she blinked herself back to reality, Yang had already pushed her chair back, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Have a good day, sweetheart,” Tai called.

Yang hesitated in the doorway—just long enough for Glynda to see the sadness hiding beneath her facade—then left without a word.

Friday evening found Glynda and Tai seated across from each other in a quiet restaurant in Vale—alone together for the first time in what felt like forever.

“This is… nice,” Glynda said softly, her voice betraying the nerves she was trying so hard to suppress.

She’d spent most of the afternoon getting ready at her old apartment, where all her elegant clothes still hung untouched. The dark purple halter dress she’d bought years ago on a whim still fit perfectly—pleasantly so, though she caught herself sighing at how little her wardrobe had changed throughout the years. Her hair was swept up, the familiar curl pinned back, and for the first time in years, she’d traded her glasses for contacts.

Now, sitting across from Tai, she smoothed a hand over the fabric as if to calm her racing heart. 

“Tai?” she prompted when he didn’t respond. “Did you hear me?”

He blinked, as if waking from a trance. “Sorry! Sorry, I just— you look… really, really beautiful.”

Glynda flushed, her composure faltering into a shy smile. “Well… thank you, Tai. You look quite handsome yourself.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. “Oh, uh—thanks.”

‘Brothers, this is awkward’, they both thought in unison.

“So, uh…” Tai began, fumbling for a topic, “how’s life?”

Glynda arched an amused brow. “I think it’s going well. I’ve adopted a couple of strays lately.”

He chuckled. “Oh really? Do tell.”

Leaning forward, she rested her chin in her hands, a playful glint in her eye. “I haven’t given them names yet, but the youngest is absolutely adorable. The sweetest little thing you’ll ever see.”

“Sounds amazing,” Tai said, smiling despite himself.

“Oh, she is,” Glynda continued, smiling fondly. “Though she can be quite the handful sometimes.”

Tai smirked knowingly.

“The middle one,” Glynda went on, “is moody, loves cracking jokes, and somehow manages to make me the butt of every prank. But she’s got such spirit… I can’t help but adore her.”

Tai’s eyes softened. “And the last?”

She tilted her head, pretending to think. “The last one… where do I even begin? He’s… well, old—”

“Hey!”

“—thinks he’s much funnier than he actually is—”

“I am funny!”

“—and sometimes I worry I’ll find him stuck at the bottom of a well like a sad puppy.”

Tai stared flatly at her. “Yang told you about that one, didn’t she?”

Glynda giggled behind her hand. “She might have.” Then, more softly, “But he’s also one of the most magnificent and inspiring men I’ve ever met. And… I hope to keep him in my life for a very long time.”

Tai’s ears turned pink, but his smile was warm. “And I you, Glynda.”

The air between them shifted—the awkward atmosphere disappearing—until the waiter arrived with menus and broke the spell.

Glynda opened hers and immediately went pale. She leaned in, whispering urgently, “Tai! We can’t afford this!”

He flipped through his own menu, realizing the same thing. “Well, I mean—surely with my new job—”

“That you don’t start until next semester?!”

He winced.

Glynda sighed inwardly. ‘Brilliant, Glynda. You’re ruining the date. Look at him. He thinks you’re miserable. You’re not miserable, you’re having a wonderful time—say something, anything—’

And then it hit her.

She reached across the table and took his hand gently, her smile small but genuine.

“Tai,” she said, “how about we go somewhere else? I know a place I think you’d enjoy.”

The nearly empty diner they’d ended up in was far more their speed. Warm lighting. Faded booths. The quiet hum of conversation from those who remained and clinking plates.

They earned a few curious looks—two overdressed adults in a place that smelled like butter and grease—but neither seemed to care. They slipped into a booth near the window and picked up the sticky laminated menus.

“This place is nice!” Tai said brightly. “How’d you find it?”

Glynda smiled. “Cheesetropolis is where me and Isabel used to—”

"Isabel and I," Tai corrected automatically.

She blinked, narrowing her eyes. 

Tai grinned, smug. “Sorry. Just… getting you back for all the times you corrected me. Besides, I should get used to doing that more often.”

Glynda’s lips curved into a wry smile. “Alright then, Mister Tai. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted—Cheesetropolis was where Isabel and I would go whenever we needed a break from you and the boys. It became our little sanctuary.”

Tai laughed. “Really? Just you two?”

“The other ladies usually joined in on your idiocy—poor Saia, against her will most of the time.”

Tai was still laughing when the waitress arrived—a young blonde woman with pigtails and a cheerful bounce in her step. “Hi there! Welcome to Cheesetropolis! My name’s Berenice. Can I get you folks started on drinks?”

Tai skipped past the alcohol and smiled up at her. “Large apple juice, please.”

When Glynda asked for the same, Berenice jotted it down and disappeared toward the counter.

Tai leaned back. “You know, you don’t have to stop drinking just because I did.”

“Oh, stop it,” Glynda said lightly. “Just like you, I haven’t touched a drink in almost… what, half a year now for me? It’s… surprisingly good for me.”

He chuckled. “If you say so.”

For a moment, the hum of the diner filled the silence between them—soft jazz playing from the jukebox, the hiss of a grill from behind the counter.

Then Glynda looked up from her menu. “Tai, why did you want to keep us at that first restaurant?”

Tai stiffened, his eyes darting away. “Well, I… uh…” He sighed. “That place was actually where I went on my first date.”

“With Summer?”

He shook his head. “No. With Raven.”

Oh.

He went on quietly. “Last time, it didn’t exactly go well. She hated it there—too many stares, too many rules. She wasn’t made for those kinds of places. And honestly, I didn’t help much either. So, after overhearing one too many… well frankly, rude comments… she left.”

He hesitated, fingers tracing the edge of his glass. “So when we agreed to go out, I remembered that place because… well, you’re an elegant lady. You belong in those kinds of places. You’re graceful, polite—all things Raven isn’t. I figured that an… elegant environment would be more up your alley.”

Glynda smiled, amused. “Tai, I’m going to ignore the part where you modeled our date after one with your bitch of an ex-wife—just this once.”

He snorted. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

She set her menu down, her voice softening. “But Tai—you don’t have to try so hard with me. Trust me, I’m not the sophisticated woman you think I am. Why do you think I’ve never let you see my apartment?”

She didn’t mention the laundry piles. Some secrets she would take with her to the grave.

“So relax, Tai. The truth is,” she continued, “the company matters more to me than the setting. Always has.”

Tai smiled, something easing in his posture. “Okay. I’ll remember that.”

A quiet peace settled between them.

After a moment, Glynda broke it gently. “Do you really think the kids will be alright with Qrow babysitting them?”

“All right, kids! Who wants to go throw eggs at some Grimm and run away as fast as possible?”

“YEAHHHH!”

“Eh! He’ll be fine! What’s the worst that could happen?” Tai said, leaning back in the booth like a man tempting fate.

Glynda blinked at him. “You… do remember him from Beacon, right? All those cabbage carts he destroyed?”

Tai chuckled. “Yeah, but he’s different now!”

He leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Like… a lot different. Seriously, I’m starting to think Nick was right on Yang’s birthday.”

Glynda smirked. “What, that he’s finally gotten hitched? Who on Remnant would resign themselves to that?”

Tai squawked, scandalized. “Hey! That’s my bro you’re talking about!”

Glynda laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. “Of course. Apologies for going after your ‘bro’.”

When Berenice returned to take their orders, she scribbled them down quickly and hurried off toward the kitchen—where, for reasons unknown, the cook was wearing sunglasses indoors.

The rest of the evening melted into easy laughter. They traded ridiculous theories about why Qrow was spending so much time in Atlas (“undercover penguin smuggler” or “private math tutor” being the leading contenders), and for once, there was no heaviness in the air between them—just comfort.

The walk back from the bullhead station was quiet. Glynda and Tai walked arm in arm, leaning into each other for warmth, the cool night air doing little to disturb the comfortable closeness between them.

“We should get a car. This is a long walk,” Tai muttered, while Glynda laughed next to him under her breath.

“…I had a wonderful time today,” Glynda murmured, her breath visible in the chilly air.

“…So did I,” Tai replied softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

When they reached the front door, the warm glow from inside greeted them.

“They’re still up?” Tai muttered. “Qrow should’ve had them in bed an hour ago.”

“I told you…” Glynda sang teasingly.

Tai rolled his eyes and reached for the doorknob—but Glynda caught his hand.

“Wait.”

He turned, brow raised, and she leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. 

When she pulled back, she smiled. “Thank you for tonight. I didn’t want to make Yang uncomfortable, doing that in front of her.”

Tai chuckled as he opened the door. “Kids! We’re home!”

Ruby came bounding out from the kitchen like a firework. “Daddy!” she squealed, jumping into his arms.

Tai laughed, hoisting Ruby up, making her squeal with delight. She was still giggling when she caught sight of Glynda behind him. Her eyes widened, awe blooming across her little face.

“Whoa… you look really pretty, Auntie Glynda,” she whispered.

Glynda’s cheeks warmed instantly. She smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you very much, Ruby. That’s very sweet of you.”

Tai chuckled, turning so Ruby could see Glynda better. “She does, doesn’t she?”

Glynda swatted his shoulder with a quiet huff, but the faint smile tugging at her lips gave her away. Tai only grinned wider, and Ruby dissolved into another fit of giggles.

Still holding his daughter, Tai asked, “So, where’s your uncle? What’s he up to this time?”

She pouted. “He’s being a meanie! Uncle Qrow said I wasn’t allowed to watch you guys walk in from the window.”

“YOU’RE WELCOME!” a voice shouted from the kitchen. “Hey, Ruby! Are they blushing? Tell me they’re blushing!”

Ruby looked at her beet-red “parents,” nodded solemnly, and called back, “Yep! They are, Uncle Qrow!”

“Ha! Called it!”

Qrow rounded the corner, leaning against the doorframe with his usual smirk—though it looked a little forced tonight.

“Everything go okay?” Tai asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Hm? Oh, yeah! Everything went great! Right, Ruby?”

Ruby giggled. “Yep! You were so funny tonight, Uncle Qrow!”

Qrow’s eyebrow twitched. “Thanks, Rubes… now if you’ll excu—”

“Why does it smell like eggs?” Glynda interrupted, sniffing the air.

Qrow froze. “I… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Both adults stared him down.

“Qrow,” Tai said slowly, “what did you do?”

Qrow gasped. “Nothing! Why do you always assume—”

Yang stomped in from the kitchen, arms crossed, expression thunderous, a dish towel over her shoulder. “Qrow wanted us all to go around egging Grimm and then run away. But when he grabbed the cartons from the fridge, he tripped over nothing, dropped all the eggs, and fell face-first into the broken shells and yolk.”

Glynda and Tai turned in perfect unison to stare at him.

Ruby giggled uncontrollably in Tai’s arms. Eventually, Qrow snapped and spun around to glare at his niece in betrayal.

“You promised to keep quiet!” he hissed at Yang.

“And you promised to help clean up! Ruby and I did all the work!” she shot back.

“Qrow!” Glynda snapped, hands on her hips.

“Wha—I helped!” he protested, slipping slightly on a stray yolk.

3 Months since Tai and Glynda got together (Yang is 7, Ruby is 5)

June

Glynda looked down at the sleeping form of Ruby nestled in her arms. The little girl’s soft breaths rose and fell against her chest as they sat together on the couch, the flickering light of the television painting gentle patterns across her face.

“I told her it was past her bedtime… but nooo,” Nick said from the armchair beside them, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. “She’s a big girl now. She can stay up until ten!”

Glynda snorted and swatted his arm with the back of her hand. “Please. You and I both know that was just an excuse to spend more time with you.”

“With us,” he corrected with a grin. “Honestly, she spends so much time with you lately, we might as well make you a backpack for her to ride around in.”

Glynda laughed at the image that conjured, then shuddered. “Oh, gods no. My poor back would never survive that.”

Tai chuckled quietly from his spot on the couch, and the two of them turned their attention back to the TV.

“‘—you sneak into their house at four A.M., which statistically speaking, is the hour people are least prepared to defend themselves—’”

“Hey,” Tai said casually, not taking his eyes off the screen, “you should move in.”

Glynda blinked, head snapping toward him. “What? Where did that come from?”

Tai shrugged as though it were the simplest thing in the world. “Well, you’ve basically been living here already for, what a year now? You never go to your apartment anymore—like, ever. Plus, with how often we’ve been sleeping in the same bed now—”

“Tai!” Glynda hissed, gesturing to the sleeping girl in her lap.

He waved it off. “She’s fine, she’s out cold. Anyway, you’ve already moved some of your stuff into my room to the point that it’s, just like my bed, basically yours, along with my clothes, like how you’re always wearing my sweaters—by the way, that thing’s about three sizes too big for you.”

Glynda sniffed, turning back toward the TV. “It’s comfy, and I like it.”

Tai smirked. “I know. That’s why I bought it.”

He paused, his tone softening. “The point is—nothing would really change. It’s just… making this official. And… the girls would be happy. And so would I.”

For a while, the only sound in the room was the quiet hum of the TV. Glynda’s gaze drifted downward, her thoughts racing too quickly to keep track.

“And what if…” she began quietly, “what if this doesn’t work out? What if we don’t work out? What if we’re rushing into this too fast? What if—”

Tai laughed gently. “I don’t plan on letting that happen. Do you?”

She turned to look at him—and he was smiling. The warmth that bloomed in her chest from that smile spread slowly through her whole body, steadying her nerves, and she returned it with her own.

“…Alright,” she murmured. “I suppose it would make sense at this point.”

Tai’s grin widened, and they turned back to the screen, the air between them peaceful and light.

A creak from upstairs drew their attention. Yang opened the door from the bathroom, marching across into her room. “I’m done brushing my teeth.” she called down. “Going to bed.”

“Good night, dear!” Glynda called back, just as Ruby stirred in her arms. She smiled down at the half-awake girl. “And you need to get ready too, don’t you?”

Ruby groaned softly, snuggling closer. “Nooooo…”

Glynda laughed under her breath. Without shifting Ruby’s weight, she used her semblance to lift herself off the couch. Ruby’s arms stayed looped around her neck like a koala as they rose smoothly from the cushions.

“Cheater,” Tai teased from the armchair.

Glynda stuck her tongue out at him as she started up the stairs, Ruby tucked close against her shoulder.

He watched them go with a smile that lingered even after the sound of Glynda’s footsteps faded upstairs.

5 Months since Tai and Glynda got together (Yang is 8, Ruby is 5)

August

“What do you mean she still won’t train you?”

The voice drifted down from upstairs, sharp and frustrated.

Tai glanced up from his newspaper, exchanging a look with Glynda. She raised a brow, then shrugged.

A few seconds later, Yang stormed down the stairs, her footsteps heavy enough to rattle the floorboards. She brushed past them both, threw open the back door, and slammed it shut behind her.

Tai lowered the paper. “...That can’t be good.”

Outside, they found her sitting in the grass, arms wrapped around her knees, staring blankly at the trees.

Tai cleared his throat gently. “Hey, Firecracker… you okay?”

Yang didn’t answer. Glynda sat down beside her, folding her skirt around her legs. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Talk to us.” She nudged Yang’s shoulder softly.

Yang’s reply was small and frustrated. “...Auntie Izzy still won’t train Jaune.”

Tai and Glynda traded a grimace. Isabel had explained earlier that Jaune was determined to become a Huntsman—said he’d made a promise to Yang. Glynda had found it endearing, but Isabel’s refusal to entertain the idea made some sense to the adults.

“Honey,” Glynda began carefully, “Isabel is Jaune’s mother. She just wants what’s best for him. You can’t be angry at her for that.”

Yang’s head snapped up, eyes flashing. “No! She wants what’s best for her! None of them care what Jaune wants!”

Her hair flickered gold, a flare of light running through it before dimming again.

“Gly—” Tai started, but Glynda pressed on, calm but firm.

“Maybe so, Yang, but it’s not our place to interfere—”

“Why not?!”

Her voice cracked, and her hair flared brighter, fiery strands whipping in the air around her.

“Glynda—” Tai warned again, but Yang’s anger was building too quickly to stop.

“He’s my friend! You always tell me to help my friends, right?” she shouted. “So why can’t I help him now?

Glynda finally noticed Yang’s hair, feeling the heat that gathered in it, and her eyes widened. 

“It’s not FAIR!”

With a final scream, her aura burst outward, a violent wave of light and heat that forced Glynda back a step.

“Yang! Honey, calm down!” Tai said quickly—but froze when he saw her eyes. They weren’t their usual lilac.

Yang caught the fear on his face and shrank back, panic flooding in. “Dad… Dad, what’s happening to me?”

The tremor in her voice snapped Tai into motion. He knelt in front of her, gripping her shoulders gently. “Hey, hey. You’re okay. You’re gonna be fine, alright? Just listen to me.”

Yang nodded, trembling.

“Good. Close your eyes. Take deep breaths. Count to ten.”

She did as she was told, breathing in, out, in again.

“Now,” Tai continued softly, “think about happy things. Just happy things.”

Slowly, as Tai kept whispering good memories into Yang’s ears, the flares softened. The air stilled. Her hair dimmed back to its normal golden hue, and her aura faded. When her eyes opened again, they were their familiar lilac.

She collapsed forward, panting lightly against his chest.

“There you go,” Tai murmured, stroking her hair. “You’re okay. Awakening your semblance is stressful—it happens to everyone.”

Glynda knelt beside them, her tone gentle. “I remember mine. My parents came home to find me crying in the middle of a cyclone of furniture.”

Yang giggled weakly. “So… that’s my semblance?”

Tai smiled. “Yep. Looks like you take after me a bit more than we thought.”

Her eyes brightened. “Really?”

“Oh yes,” Glynda added with a teasing grin. “But you should’ve seen him at Beacon. Anytime a pretty girl walked by, everyone at the table had to step back or risk catching on fire.”

“Hey!” Tai protested, puffing up his chest. “How dare you! You’re just jealous it never happened to you!”

The words were barely out before realization dawned on his face. He froze.

The vein on Glynda’s forehead twitched. “Yang, inside… I need to talk to your father.”

Tai’s eyes went wide, and he glanced nervously at his daughter. “No! Yang, stay. Please stay.”

But Yang smirked and stood slowly, backing towards the door. Tai kept calling out for her, hand stretched out dramatically. “Yang please! Don’t leave me heeeere…”

Slipping inside, the door clicked shut, just in time for her to hear Glynda’s sharp voice ring out:

“I’m not pretty? Is that really what you were saying, TAIYANG?!”

Followed immediately by a yelp of pain.

Eventually, Glynda released his ear, allowing Tai to crumple to the grass with a soft thump.

“Hmph!” she huffed, crossing her arms and turning away in offended triumph.

From the ground, Tai groaned. “Did you see it?”

The tone in his voice stopped her cold. Glynda turned, her irritation fading into concern.

“See what?”

He was still looking toward the back door Yang had disappeared through, his expression unreadable.

“Her eyes,” he said quietly. “When her semblance triggered. They turned red.”

Glynda’s breath caught. Her own gaze followed his to the house, where a shadow disappeared from the window. She wondered if that was Yang, still watching them.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

When Tai did, his voice was almost a whisper. “She looked just like her.”

The air seemed to still around them.

From the forest beyond the yard, a lone raven called—its cry cutting through the quiet like an omen.

“No way! You unlocked your Semblance? That’s so cool!” Jaune’s voice crackled excitedly through the scroll speaker.

Yang grinned, basking in it. “Yep! I’m the best!” She flexed her arms dramatically, pretending to show off invisible muscles.

Jaune laughed. “How’d you do it?”

Like the scratch of a record player, Yang froze mid-pose, her grin faltering. “I… got angry. Like, really angry.”

Jaune’s laughter faded. “Over what?”

Yang scratched the back of her neck, eyes darting away. “Over… your mom still not agreeing to train you.”

Silence. The kind that makes the room feel smaller.

When Jaune finally spoke, his voice was quieter. “Well… your parents aren’t training you yet either, right? ’Cause you’re too young? Maybe when I’m older…”

There was hope in his tone—thin, fragile. It twisted something in her chest. She wanted to believe that too. Maybe someday she could convince Glynda to train him. Then someday he’d stand beside her, like they always dreamed.

Then Jaune’s voice came again, softer but teasing. "Wait… you unlocked your Semblance over me?"

Yang’s face flushed instantly. "S-shut up!" she yelped, mashing the disconnect button before he could laugh.

The screen went dark, leaving her reflection faintly visible on its surface—cheeks red, hair still tousled, heart pounding.

She huffed, crossing her arms, but her expression softened as Jaune’s words echoed back.

‘Your parents aren’t training you yet either, right?’

Her gaze drifted toward the door, where the sound of muffled laughter floated up from downstairs.

“…Parents, huh,” she murmured.

Getting up, she made her way to the bathroom to wash her hands and wipe off any remnants of the dried tears on her face.

In the mirror across from her, a faint shimmer caught her eye. For just a second—one heartbeat—her reflection blinked back with crimson eyes.

Yang froze.

Then she blinked, and they were lilac again.

The tension in her shoulders released all at once, leaving her trembling. She gripped the edge of the sink, forcing out a shaky breath. “It’s fine,” she whispered. “I’m fine.”

“Hey, Dad… I saw my eyes turn red in the mirror.”

“....And…?”

“I got that from her, didn’t I?”

“…Yeah, Yang. You did.”

“Can you tell me about her now? Since I’m older?”

“…Not yet, Firecracker.”

“…Fine.”

“Seriously, how are you this good at the game? You only play it with us!”

“Yang, we got this! Together!”

“Oh, is that right Girls… well there’s a first time for everything I’m sure.”

“RAUUGH!”

“Ah! Yang! You don’t need to show off your new semblance every time!”

September

“I need your help.”

Isabel and Nick blinked at the sight of Tai fidgeting on their couch.

Nick grinned instantly, flashing him a thumbs-up. “You got it, buddy!”

His wife groaned and smacked his shoulder lightly. “Let the man speak first, Nick.”

Tai rubbed the back of his neck. “So… Yang recently unlocked her semblance.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re planning to dump her on us.” Isabel’s expression flattened. “She’s already filling Jaune’s head with enough Huntsman fantasies as it is.”

Both men grimaced—but wisely stayed silent.

“No, I won’t, I promise,” Tai said quickly. “Her semblance’s kind of a variation of mine. We’re still figuring it out, b-but that’s beside the point! I’ve started training her to control it, but I need help with… something else.”

“Whatever you need, buddy!” Nick said again with another enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Smack. “So what do you need help with?” Isabel asked, this time with patient restraint.

Tai sighed. “At Signal, I don’t do much fighting myself anymore. Mostly paperwork, weapon builds, the occasional spar. I still work out—morning runs, some weights—but Yang’s gonna want real training soon. And once she does…”

“Ruby will too,” Isabel finished, understanding instantly.

“Yeah,” Tai nodded. “And if I’m gonna help Glynda train them right, I need to get back into shape—combat shape.”

Nick’s grin widened. “So… you want us to beat you up until you get stronger?”

Tai pointed. “Bingo.”

“Glynda can’t really help me in this case,” he added. “With her fighting style, it’d just be a one-sided massacre. I wouldn’t improve a damn thing before she flattened me.”

Nick leaned back, smirking. “Sounds like you’d be into that…”

Tai snorted at Isabel’s scandalized look. “NICK!”

A second later, a crash echoed as Nick was launched clean out the window.

Sighing and clapping her hands together, Isabel turned back to Tai. “Sorry, but I can’t help you there. I’m not in shape like I used to be, and between the hospital and eight kids, I’m lucky if I sleep four hours a night. Now, Nick on the other hand…”

They paused, eyeing the shattered glass.

From outside came the faintest, muffled call: “I’m okay!”

“Nick can help,” Isabel sighed, then added, almost slyly, “And I might have an idea of someone else who’d want to join in, too.”

“DODGE!”

The shout came a split second before a rain of arrows came crashing down on Tai.

“You know,” he shouted, diving and weaving between shafts that thudded into the dirt around him, “when I—” he avoided a swing from Nick’s blade— “asked for help—” another dodge— “I didn’t mean start at max level!”

He rolled clear just as the next volley hit, the ground behind him looking more like a pincushion than a training field.

“Oh, come now, Taiyang, stop complaining!” called a teasing voice from across the clearing. “Weren’t you once part of Team STRQ? The greatest team of our generation—”

“Second greatest!” Nick interrupted, lunging forward with a pout.

“—surely you can handle a few flimsy arrows!” finished King Arjun Sarkara of Pandu, loosing another shot that whistled past Tai’s ear.

A former member of Team AARN—back in the Beacon days with Nick, Isabel, and his wife Saia—Arjun had wasted no time boarding the first bullhead out of his kingdom the moment Isabel called to explain Tai’s request.

(“Izzy,” he’d said, “thank you. You have no idea how boring ruling a nation can be.”)

(“Yes, and I thankfully never will,” she’d replied dryly.)

(Not that Arjun would ever admit it, but any excuse to meet with old friends was a welcome one.)

And so, Tai found himself dodging a hurricane of arrows while a mountain of a man swung a sword nearly as tall as he was. All this, supposedly, just to “get back in shape.”

“A few, flimsy-” Tai shouted, ducking behind a rock. “Arjun, you fired enough arrows for six hundred men! And that was just the first volley!”

Arjun raised an eyebrow. “And did they hit?”

“YES!” Tai jumped up and turned, jabbing a thumb at his back. “One did! Right here!”

Arjun squinted. “I see no arrow. Nick, do you see an arrow?”

Nick stepped forward, yanked the shaft out of Tai’s back—eliciting a strangled yelp—then tossed it aside casually. “No, Arjun, I don’t see an arrow.”

Tai pouted as the faint glow of his aura sealed the wound. “You guys suck.”

Arjun was already turning back to walk back up the hill, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And you’ll suck even more if you let the next one hit you. Nick! Back in position. I’ll throw in a few trick arrows this time.”

“Wahoo!” Nick whooped, bounding to the edge of the field.

Tai just groaned, already bracing himself as the string drew back again—and the first arrow sang through the air.

“They’re really putting him through the wringer, aren’t they?” Glynda remarked, watching the chaos unfold on the training field.

She sat reclined in a lawn chair beside Ruby, Yang, Jaune, and Queen Saia Sarkara—who balanced her three-year-old son, Abhimanyu, on her lap. All of them sipped their drinks in perfect leisure while the men tore up the clearing below.

“Oh, absolutely,” Saia replied with a sly smirk. “Though I think Arjun might be enjoying this a little too much.”

Glynda giggled, tilting her sunglasses—a gift from Isabel. ‘Qrow’s idiotic joke from Beacon about sunglasses hiding what you’re looking at finally has some merit,’ she mused dryly, watching Tai sweat and stumble through the onslaught.

“You got this, Dad!” Yang cheered, her earlier argument with Jaune over whose father was stronger long forgotten.

“Thanks, Fire—OOF!” Tai’s reply cut off as Nick’s sword connected, launching him through a row of trees.

Yang and Jaune both winced.

“Tai! Make sure to dodge those!” Glynda called helpfully. Ruby giggled beside her.

Tai groaned, climbing out of the crater he’d made. “Yes, thank you, honey!” he shouted back—just before Nick came swinging again.

Saia took a leisurely sip from her glass. “So…” she began, eyes glinting with mischief. “You and Tai?”

Glynda blinked, caught off guard. “It just… sort of happened,” she said, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

Saia’s smirk deepened. "Mhm. I suppose him looking like a shorter version of Nick doesn’t hurt, hmm?"

“WHAT?!” Ruby, Yang, and Jaune screamed in unison, all snapping toward Glynda—who turned a vivid shade of red. Yes, they had things in common — the hair, the eyes… the build… Oh gods, the build—

“You liked my dad?!” Jaune yelled.

“Wh—no! I—well, in school, yes, but that was a long time ago!” Glynda sputtered. “And even if he hadn’t married Isabel, I’d have probably realized he’s far too much for me and—”

Her words dissolved into frantic muttering about absolutely not still feeling that way.

Amused, Saia leaned toward Jaune. “Oh, the stories I could tell you about your mother and your Aunt Glynda…”

“EWWWW!” all three kids shrieked, while Abhimanyu sat calmly in Ruby’s lap, the very image of serenity.

“Saia!” Glynda cried in horror. “Please! Kids, I swear, that was a lifetime ago—”

“Ew, Auntie, stop!” Yang groaned, covering her ears.

“Yeah! You’re making it worse!” Jaune added, doing the same.

Defeated, Glynda slumped in her chair. “I despise you…” she muttered under her breath.

Saia laughed until tears welled in her eyes, nearly spilling her drink. “I’m sorry, old friend. I’ve missed you so much.”

Despite herself, Glynda smiled. “And I you.”

They turned back to the sparring men, just in time for Ruby to blurt, for what had to be the hundredth time that day, “So you’re really a queen?!”

Yang dropped her head into her hands with a groan while Jaune patted her head in sympathy.

Saia chuckled. “Yes, my dear. I am indeed the Queen of Pandu—and my husband is the King.”

“That’s so cool!” Ruby squealed, stars in her eyes.

“I know, right?!” Jaune echoed, momentarily distracted from Yang’s despair—until she grabbed his arm.

“Jaune! More head pats! Ruby’s making my brain hurt again!”

He blinked, shrugged, and resumed. Yang tried not to think about the sudden warmth in her chest.

Saia and Glynda exchanged knowing smiles before Saia turned back to Ruby. “Yes, my dear, I suppose that is ‘so cool,’ as you say.”

Ruby looked at Abhimanyu curiously. “So does that make Abhi here a prince?” she asked, hoisting him triumphantly into the air. He didn’t even flinch—he simply accepted his fate.

Saia laughed. “Yes, Ruby. He’s a prince indeed.”

Ruby gasped. “Sooo cool! Can you make me a princess?!”

“Ruby!” Glynda hissed, but Saia’s expression only softened.

“I’m sorry, Ruby,” she said gently. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way… Besides, Pandu already has a princess.”

“Oh…” Ruby deflated for a moment, then perked up again. “Well, can I meet her? Where is she?”

“RUBY!” Glynda snapped, mortified, startling the girl. She immediately softened, ready to apologize—but Saia raised a hand, her calm smile unbroken.

“We don’t know, Ruby,” she said softly. “She went missing many years ago.”

Ruby’s eyes widened. “Oh… I’m sorry.” She ducked her head—but looked up again when Saia began patting her hair, soothing and kind.

“Child, do not fret. You didn’t know, and you meant no harm. There’s nothing to forgive.”

Ruby nodded meekly, still guilt-ridden.

Then Saia’s tone brightened. “How about this? I’ll take you and your sister flying on my staff—and afterward, I’ll tell you how your father’s team helped us reclaim our kingdom. How’s that?”

Ruby lit up instantly. “YOUR STAFF CAN FLY?!”

Yang shot upright, nearly knocking Jaune’s hand away. “Wait, really?! That sounds awesome!”

“Can I come too?” Jaune asked, already bouncing. “I love that story!”

Saia laughed. “Of course! Glynda, can you watch Abhimanyu for me?”

“Gladly,” Glynda said, smiling. “Have fun, all of you.”

As the excited chorus of children followed the queen toward the open field, Glynda looked down at the quiet toddler now sitting neatly in her lap.

“Your mother certainly knows what she’s doing, doesn’t she?”

Abhimanyu nodded solemnly, still watching his father make Tai “dance” across the battlefield.

Glynda chuckled, gaze drifting skyward. Saia was already soaring above, the children’s laughter echoing through the air.

“I’ll have to ask her how she does it,” Glynda murmured, smiling softly.

November

“Hey…” Tai said, folding one of his T-shirts.

Glynda looked up from the pile of Ruby’s pajamas, one brow lifting.

“You wanna hear something Yang asked me earlier?” he said, pausing mid-fold.

Glynda smiled, amused. “Why not? You’ll tell me anyway.” She shook out one of Yang’s undershirts, flapping it through the air.

“Okay, so…” Tai chuckled. “I picked her up from school right? Went through the whole typical spiel of ‘Dad, you don’t need to pick me up from school, I’ve walked home alone a million times!’ But not even a minute later, she forgets she’s even grumpy at me and goes, ‘Dad, would you rather be a lion… or a panda?’”

Glynda giggled at the way he pitched his voice higher to imitate Yang. “And? What did you say?”

“Oh, easy,” Tai said. “Panda, obviously.”

Glynda dropped her underwear mid fold and turned to him, distraught. “Are you mad? Pandas are fat and lazy and have piss-stained fur! They keep trying to die out all on their own, and we keep not letting them!” 

Tai started laughing, but Glynda kept going, apparently passionate about the subject. “Lions are majestic kings of the Jungle. They have beautiful manes of gold, and all Panda’s do is eat, shit, and be suicidal. Seriously, just let the poor animals kill themselves already, falling over in their own piss. Do you want that to be you? Should I start calling you ‘Taiyang the Pissman’?”

Tai collapsed, laughing so hard he almost dropped his shirt. “Pissman… oh gods… I never thought I’d hear the day you’d call someone Pissman… that’s incredible…”

Glynda smirked at him, flapping another shirt through the air. “Yang’s been rubbing off on me I suppose…”

He tried to recover, but kept snorting and wheezing. Eventually, he got back onto his feet, chuckling and shaking his head. “Pissman… oh that’s hilarious… gods, I love you…”

Glynda froze. The fabric slipped from her hands again.

For a long moment, the only sound was the quiet whip of a pillowcase as Tai shook it out — pretending to focus, pretending he hadn’t just yanked the metaphorical floor out from underneath Glynda’s feet not even two seconds ago.

Inside his head though….

‘oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh SHIT! SHIT! WHY DID I SAY THAT?! WHY?! OH GODS I MEAN I CAN’T TAKE IT BACK NOW SHE HEARD ME AND oh gods was that too early? I mean with Summer things were different because she was a teammate and–”

“Did you mean it?”

“Huh?”

The panic in his head went dead silent.

Glynda’s back was still to him, her voice small—fragile in a way he’d never heard before. “Did… did you mean what you just said?”

Her hands were still moving, folding clothes with a faint tremor in her fingers.

Tai blinked. Then stilled.

Did he?

He remembered watching from the doorway as she walked Yang and Ruby home from school, one of them clutching each of her hands. The way she’d laughed as the girls skipped through the mud, using her semblance to lift them off the ground as if they were weightless.

He remembered the night they danced in the kitchen, music humming softly from the scroll, the girls off at Radian for the weekend. How she’d guided him through the steps, fingers laced with his, smiling when he spun her too clumsily but didn’t let go.

He remembered the look on her face the night he came home from a Hunter’s Anonymous meeting, officially marking one year of sobriety for him without another relapse. How she unashamedly kissed him in front of the girls, Ruby squealing and Yang gagging. How proud she’d been, welcoming him home.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, I do.”

He swallowed, heart hammering, licking his lips anxiously. “Glynda, I love you.”

She turned slowly. Sniffing and holding in tears in the corners of her eyes, she looked at him with eyes full of warmth, a smile of pure joy on her face.

“I love you too, Taiyang.”

2 Years after Glynda and Tai get together (Yang is 9, Ruby is 7)

November

“WHEEEEEEE!” Ruby shouted, bursting into a swirl of rose petals before vanishing down the hall.

A solid thump echoed a second later.

“Ow! Seriously, Ruby? You don’t need to show off your new semblance every five minutes!” Glynda heard Yang’s muffled voice yell while her and Tai still lay half-asleep in their bedroom.

“Sorry! Sorry! Ooh, are you gonna call someone?” Ruby’s tone turned teasing. “Is it Jaaaaaaune?”

“What—RUBY?!”

Her cackle trailed off into another flurry of petals.

Tai groaned beside Glynda, rolling over and throwing an arm across her waist without opening his eyes. “Your daughters are being too loud again.”

Glynda chuckled softly, brushing her fingers through his hair. “Aren’t they your daughters? That’s what Yang insists, at least.”

He cracked one eye open against the sunlight streaming through the curtains. “Not at this hour, they aren’t. Right now, they’re all yours.”

She smiled, propping her head up with her other hand while continuing to comb through his hair. “How late did you stay up? You said you were almost finished.”

Tai stretched, yawning. “Shelly’s paper needed some extra attention. She better be thankful for the extra points she got, and not lecture me again about the benefits of… ‘crustless’ peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

Glynda laughed under her breath as she tied her robe. “Ruby,” she called down the hall.

“Yeah?” Ruby reappeared by the door in a blink of rose petals, grinning. Tai ruffled her hair as he walked past, half-awake.

“Stop teasing your sister about her crush on Jaune, alright? You won’t like it when she returns the favor one day.”

Yang’s face appeared behind her sister’s, cheeks scarlet. “Wha—M-AUNTIE?!”

Glynda laughed, shaking her head and kissing Ruby’s forehead as she scrunched up her nose. “Ewwww! No way! Boys are icky and gross! Like Uncle Qrow!”

“Hey!” Yang shouted. “Don’t call Jaune gross!”

“So you do like him!”

“RUBY!”

Ruby darted away in another whirl of petals, giggling, Yang charging after her. The sound of their footsteps faded down the hall as Glynda sighed, smiling faintly to herself.

Tai had a teacher in-service day, leaving Glynda the whole morning to herself — or rather, to herself and the girls.

Breakfast was its usual riot of laughter and spilled syrup, but Glynda savored every bit of the noise.

Now, she sat alone on a sun-warmed bench at the park, watching Yang and Ruby play soccer with the other Patch children. The air smelled faintly of cut grass; the shouts of children rose and fell like waves.

She sipped from her thermos of hot chocolate when she suddenly felt the bench dip beside her.

“Childhood is a wonderful experience, isn’t it?” a voice said softly.

Glynda didn’t turn. She was too busy tracking Ruby’s determined sprint toward the ball. She smiled faintly.

“I agree,” she said. “Every day I wish I could turn back the clock — go back to how things were. It was much simpler then.”

The voice gave a quiet, knowing laugh. “Which ones are yours?”

Without hesitation, Glynda pointed. “Those two — the blonde and the redhead… well, red-streaked, more like.”

The voice giggled softly. “I see. Could you tell me about them?”

Glynda’s tone brightened with pride. “Yang’s nine now. Brash, prideful, loud. She could stand to tone down the attitude sometimes, admittedly, but… a purer heart of gold I’ve never seen.”

The voice stayed silent, encouraging her to continue.

“She’s funny—much funnier than she gives herself credit for. She doesn’t let anything keep her down for long and works hard to prove herself. She also just realized her first crush on a boy, which is…” Glynda chuckled. “…a truly mortifying experience for any young lady.”

The laugh that answered her was soft… familiar, even. “I know the feeling. And the other?”

Glynda hesitated for half a second, struck by something about that tone. But she continued.

“Ruby’s younger — only seven. But a sweeter girl you’ll never meet. She sees the best in everyone, and she won’t stop until they see it too.”

The woman beside her nodded. 

“Ruby is brilliant. Far too brilliant for her own good,” Glynda said, smiling wider now. “Smarter than I ever was at her age… though still a little naive. I can’t wait to see what she does with her talent in the future.”

She smiled, warmth swelling in her chest. “How about you? Which ones are yours?”

“Oh… the same two, actually,” the voice replied.

“…Huh?”

Glynda finally turned—and froze, her breath catching as her hand flew to her mouth.

Sitting beside her was a young woman in a white cloak, dark hair streaked with red at the ends. Her smile trembled, but it was kind — overwhelmingly kind.

But her eyes—silver, bright silver, shimmering with tears—were the part that made Glynda’s heart ache the most.

Glynda’s hand trembled as she lowered it from her mouth. “Summer…” she whispered, voice hitching.

The woman’s voice quavered, gentle as wind through leaves. “Thank you, Glynda. For being there for them… all of them… when I couldn’t.”

Glynda’s throat tightened. She reached out — wanting to hold her, to say everything she never had the chance to —

—but felt a small tug on her sleeve instead.

“Hey, Auntie? Who’re you talking to?” Ruby asked, tilting her head, curiosity swimming through the silver in her eyes. Yang stood just behind, brushing grass from her knees.

“Who am I…?” Glynda turned to gesture toward the bench —

—and stopped.

It was empty. No trace of the woman in white. Only a few leaves drifted in the wind.

She turned back to Ruby, her voice quieter now. “Ruby… did you ever see someone sitting here with me?”

Ruby blinked, puzzled. “What do you mean? You’ve been sitting here alone the whole time.”

Glynda looked at the empty space once.

Yang frowned. “Auntie? You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

‘I think I just did,’ Glynda thought. 

But instead, she smiled softly, eyes glistening, and brushed a strand of hair behind Ruby’s ear.

“I’m fine, Yang,” she said. “Better than fine, actually.”

January

They’d done it. Finally, the Aslanmas Tree was out of the house, the decorations were packed away in boxes, and everything was stacked neatly in the garage.

Yang and Ruby had long since fallen asleep after losing—repeatedly—to Glynda in their new version of Super Strike Bros. The house was quiet now, save for the faint hum of the heater and the soft rustle of snow outside.

On the couch, wrapped in a tangle of blankets, Tai mumbled into her ear, “Thank the gods we got that done… I swear, I can’t wait until they’re old enough to spend real money on our gifts.”

Glynda giggled, eyes still closed, leaning against the warmth of his ugly sweater. “You mean you didn’t enjoy your ‘World’s Best Grandpa’ mug that Ruby and Yang got you?”

“I think I’d appreciate it more if they’d waited until they were at least twenty-five,” he said, his grin audible in his voice.

Glynda chuckled softly, letting the comfortable silence settle between them.

Then Tai spoke again.

“Marry me?”

Glynda almost fell off the couch.

“W–what?” she stammered, blinking at him, afraid this would be some tasteless prank.

But there was no joke in his eyes—just warmth. Warmth and love.

“Marry me,” he repeated, voice low, nervous. “I had this whole speech planned out—take you to the beach, get down on one knee, the works. I’ve even got the ring… somewhere around here.”

Glynda stayed perfectly still, afraid that even breathing too hard might shatter the moment.

“But then,” Tai went on, smiling. “I remembered our first date. We tried the fancy restaurant thing—it didn’t go so well. Then we hit that diner, and that did. You told me I didn’t need to do anything extravagant.”

Glynda nodded faintly. Her heart was pounding. ‘This… this was real. This was actually happening.’

“And then about thirty seconds ago,” Tai said softly, “I looked down at you and realized—this, just you and me together, being with each other? This was the moment I wanted to capture forever. Because it’s home. And I can’t imagine being here with anyone else.”

Tears blurred her vision, warm and unstoppable.

“I can still get down on one knee though, if you want,” Tai added quickly, already moving to stand up. “Just—just give me a second to find the ring and—mmph!”

Tai felt himself being forced back down towards the couch, Glynda’s lips covering his own, neither wanting to pull back. Eventually, their need for Oxygen forced them to.

Glynda was crying, but the smile she had on was one of the most beautiful things Tai had ever seen in his entire life.

“Yes, Tai,” she gasped through a quiet laugh. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He whooped in delight and swept her up in his arms, spinning her once before she pressed a finger to his mouth.

“The girls are sleeping upstairs!” she whispered urgently, but continued to smile nonetheless.

He froze, nodded sheepishly, and dashed off to grab the ring. Moments later, he returned with the small box and slipped the ring onto her finger, his hands shaking just slightly.

Glynda stared at it through tear-blurred eyes before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him again, longer than before.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too…” he murmured back, forehead resting against hers.

Outside, a raven perched on the frosted windowsill tilted its head once—then spread its wings and disappeared into the quiet night.

The Next Morning

Breakfast was terrifying for Glynda.

When she woke, Tai was still asleep behind her, one arm draped around her waist, breathing slow and even. For a long moment, she just lay there, barely daring to move—until she slipped her hand out from beneath the covers, holding it up into the morning light.

The ring still gleamed on her finger.

Her breath caught, and tears welled up before she could stop them.

Tai stirred awake to the sound of her quiet sobbing. “You went to bed with it on?” he teased, voice still thick with sleep.

“I–I was just so happy,” she murmured, laughing softly through the tears. “I didn’t want to take it off.”

They spent the morning bumping shoulders in the kitchen, stealing glances and laughing over burnt toast and crooked pancakes.

That joy lasted right up until Yang shuffled in, muttered a sleepy “mornin’,” grabbed the orange juice, and plopped into her seat at the table.

Reality hit Glynda like a brick. ‘Oh gods… that’s right. We’ll have to tell them.’

Now all four of them sat at the breakfast table, sunlight spilling across the plates. Ruby and Yang were already arguing—something about which of their favorite heroes from their favorite shows could beat the other in a fight.

Normally, Glynda would’ve joined in by now. She’d seen both shows together with them more times than she cared to admit—and even watched a few episodes on her own when no one was looking. But this morning, she was too preoccupied, too full of nervous joy.

Every few minutes she’d meet Tai’s eyes, grinning, kicking each other under the table like teenagers.

Still, the worry gnawed at her. Ruby, she knew, would likely be nothing but supportive—she always was.

But Yang… Yang was another matter entirely.

It wasn’t that Yang disapproved of them—she never said anything unkind, not anymore—but marriage was different. Marriage was permanent. She’d be officially, legally, in every sense of the word, family. And with Yang’s recent rising curiosity about Raven… well—

“What do you think, Auntie?” Ruby piped up suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Hm?” Glynda blinked. Ruby was looking at her expectantly, silver eyes bright with hope—clearly wanting her to take her side in the debate.

Her face fell a little when Glynda stammered, “I… I apologize, Ruby, what were you talking about?”

Both girls frowned, eyes darting between Glynda and Tai, instantly suspicious.

“Okay,” Yang said, narrowing her eyes and pointing her fork like an accusation, “what is going on? You’re both acting weird. I saw the way both of you jumped when I walked in this morning.”

Tai laughed, loudly and nervously. “Whaaaat? Weird? Us? Nooo, we’re totally—”

“ARE YOU PREGNANT?!” Ruby suddenly shrieked, slamming her hands on the table, her face lighting up with excitement.

Glynda froze. The joy she’d been holding onto all morning seemed to vanish in an instant, replaced by a hollow ache in her chest. Her fingers went cold. It must have shown on her face because Ruby’s grin faltered immediately.

“S-sorry…” the girl murmured, shrinking back in her seat.

Under the table, Tai reached for Glynda’s hand, steadily tracing soft circles into her palm with his thumb, keeping her grounded. She looked at him, met his quiet smile, and drew a slow breath.

“Not exactly, Ruby,” she said gently.

She lifted their joined hands onto the table, the silver ring glinting faintly in the morning light. Her smile softened, full of emotion. “We wanted to tell you after breakfast—when we were all on the couch together—but…”

Clang.

Yang’s knife hit her plate and fell with a sharp ring that sliced through the silence. Everyone’s heads turned.

Yang sat frozen, staring at their hands—at the ring.

“Yang?” Ruby started, confused—until she followed her sister’s gaze. Her eyes widened to previously unheard proportions. “You… you mean?...”

Glynda could barely keep the tears at bay as she nodded. “Yes, Ruby. Your father and I are en—”

She didn’t finish.

Ruby vanished in a swirl of rose petals and reappeared in Glynda’s arms, nearly toppling them both. Only a predicted pre-activation of Glynda’s semblance kept the chair upright.

“YOU MEAN IT?! YOU REALLY REALLY MEAN IT?!” Ruby squealed into her shoulder, tears already streaming.

Laughing through her own tears, Glynda hugged her tight. “Yes, Ruby… I ‘really, really’ mean it.”

Tai watched them with a soft smile, his heart full—until he glanced toward Yang. His expression faltered. “Yang… uh…” he started hesitantly.

Ruby and Glynda both turned.

Yang hadn’t moved. She sat hunched forward, hands in her lap, staring at the table. The silence around her felt heavy.

Ruby crept closer and touched her shoulder. “Yang? Hey, Yaaang… you okay?”

For a moment, nothing. Then Yang lifted her head, forcing a bright, trembling smile.

“Con…Congrats,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m happy for you.”

She shoveled the rest of her eggs into her mouth, stood abruptly, rinsed her plate in the sink, and disappeared down the hallway. The door to her room clicked shut softly behind her.

The sound lingered like an echo.

Tai moved to get up, “I’ll go–”

“No, Tai.”

He turned. Glynda was already standing, her eyes steady but full of concern.

“Please,” she said quietly. “Let me handle this one.”

“Yang?” Glynda knocked softly. “Can I come in?”

Silence.

She rested her hand on the doorknob, hesitating to turn it, when Yang’s muffled voice drifted through the door.

“…It’s open.”

Glynda eased the door open and stepped inside, closing it gently behind her. The room was dim, the morning light filtering through half-drawn curtains. Yang sat upright on her bed, rubbing at her eyes before glancing up with a trembling little smile.

“Hey…” she whispered.

Glynda’s smile was tender and full of understanding. She crossed the room and sat beside her, opening her arms without a word. Yang leaned in almost instantly, her small frame folding into the embrace.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The quiet was thick with the sound of shallow breaths and soft sniffles.

Then, in a voice that cracked on the edges, Yang murmured, “Is there… is there something wrong with me?”

Glynda’s breath hitched. She pulled back enough to look Yang in the eyes, her own wide with disbelief. “What? No! No, of course not, Yang! Why would you ever think that?”

Yang shrugged, wiping at her face, that same sad, fragile smile still trembling on her lips. “I don’t know… it’s just…”

Glynda stayed still, patient, letting her find the words.

“It’s just… even though I know you make Dad happy… and Dad makes you happy… and you make Ruby and me happy too…”

Glynda’s eyes softened, a faint smile flickering through the emotion, but she didn’t interrupt.

“It’s just…” Yang took a shaky breath. “The first thing I thought of when I saw your ring was just… that’s it. Mom’s never coming back.”

“Mom?” Glynda blinked, confused. “But she—”

Yang shook her head quickly, her voice breaking. “No. The other one.”

Ah.

Glynda exhaled slowly, the understanding settling deep in her chest. “Yang… Raven is… a complicated matter.”

“I know that!” Yang burst out, frustration leaking through the tears. “But that’s all I know! That she’s complicated and she’s gone! And I just— I have so many questions and no one—”

Her voice cracked completely.

“…no one to answer them.” Glynda finished softly.

Yang nodded and buried her face in Glynda’s shoulder, clutching her as if afraid she’d disappear too.

“Yang, it’s…” Glynda searched for something better than it’s complicated. “Raven isn’t just a touchy subject for you, but for your father as well. I know you’ll hate to hear me say this again, but… I don’t think you’re—”

“Ready yet, yeah, yeah, I know…” Yang muttered, pulling at a loose thread on her blanket. “When I’m older. It’s always when I’m older.”

“No.” Glynda shook her head gently. “It’s not… Well, yes, that too,” she admitted with a small smile, “but what I meant was—it’s not just you who isn’t ready to talk about it. Or to hear about it.”

Yang frowned, her voice small. “Oh… I didn’t really think about that.”

Glynda held her close, rubbing slow circles on her back. “It’s alright,” she whispered. “You’re still young. You don’t have to understand everything right now. You just have to know—there is nothing wrong with you. You’re not missing anything inside of you, Yang. You are whole. You always have been.”

Yang’s arm tightened around her. They sat in silence for a while, side by side on the bed. The quiet hum of the morning filtered in through the window. Yang’s head eventually found its place against Glynda’s shoulder, and Glynda rested her cheek against Yang’s hair.

“I’m…” Yang began, her voice fragile. “I’m sorry for ruining your happy day. I didn’t mean to make it about me. I really am happy for you… really…”

Glynda laughed softly, squeezing her hand. “Yang, you didn’t ruin anything. And… I’m glad you’re not upset with your father and me anymore. But also—heavens, you’re a child! You’re handling all this far better than I ever would’ve at your age.”

Then her tone turned teasing. “Besides… I’ll just have to remember this for the day you get married—when I’m old and gray and can embarrass you all I like.”

Yang giggled and groaned, shoving her lightly. “Ew! Gross! I don’t wanna get married!”

“Oh?” Glynda’s giggled back, eyes gleaming. “Not even to Jaune?”

“EW! NO!” Yang yelped, turning scarlet and flailing as she started smacking Glynda’s back, who just started laughing. “Mom, that’s so—”

Both of them froze.

The word hung there, trembling in the air.

Slowly, Glynda turned toward her, lips parting, eyes wide with disbelief. Her voice came out in a whisper, shaking with raw emotion. “Did… did you just…”

Yang’s face went pale. Her mouth opened and closed before she gave the smallest, stiffest nod.

Glynda covered her mouth, tears already welling up again.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Then Yang exhaled, crossing her arms, looking anywhere but at her. “I mean… at this point, after everything… you might as well already be our second mom—”

She squeaked as Glynda lunged forward, pulling her into a fierce, breath-stealing hug.

Yang squirmed at first, but her laughter broke through, muffled against Glynda’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna be Best Man Nick!”

“What?! No way! I helped them get together, Qrow!”

“I’m literally his bro! I’ve been Best Man at both of his other weddings!”

“Maybe that’s why he’s having a third! J’Accuse!”

“GASP! How dare you Nick!--”

“Guys, GUYS! You can both be Best Man, alright?!”

“... No way, nuh uh!”

“Yeah, sorry Buddy, how would that even work?”

“Nick, we're taking this outside. The winner is Best Man!”

“Deal!”

“RAUUGHHHHH!”

“Oh hey, Yang lost to Glynda again.”

“That ring is beautiful, Glynda. Congratulations, truly!”

“Yes, well, I have to thank you for helping us get to this moment.”

“Did you claim him as yours like I suggested?”

“Nana please…”

“HOW ARE YOU BEATING US WITHOUT EVEN PAYING ATTENTION?”

“Oh, sorry dear!”

May

“This sucks,” Jaune groaned, yanking at his tie for what felt like the hundredth time.

Yang leaned against the wall in her dress, arms crossed, smirking. “How did you mess it up again?” Behind her, Ruby burst into giggles, thankful that her parents allowed her to wear sneakers.

Jaune flushed bright red. “I—I don’t know, honest! It just… happened!”

Yang rolled her eyes and stepped forward. “Here, hold still. I’ve seen Auntie Glynda fix Dad’s tie a bunch. Can’t be that hard.”

Jaune froze as she came closer, cheeks blazing. Ruby’s grin widened. Katy, standing a few feet away, scowled darkly.

“What?” Jaune blurted, eyes darting between them.

Ruby’s tone turned into a sing-song. “Nothiiiiiing~.”

Katy just folded her arms and looked away with a huff.

“There! All done!” Yang said at last, stepping back with a triumphant smile. Jaune looked down at his chest.

“…It looks worse than before,” he said flatly.

Yang, already red from embarrassment, hung her head in defeat. “Yeah… I know. I’m sorry.”

Katy and Ruby snickered quietly behind their hands, and Jaune sighed in defeat, already loosening the tie. “I’ll… just go find my mom.”

Glynda sat nervously before the mirror, hands folded tight in her lap as Arturia’s handpicked stylist worked her magic. Powder, perfume, it all brought her closer to the moment she’d barely dared imagine.

The door opened behind her.

“Sorry I’m late—Jaune needed help with his tie again…” Isabel stepped in, then froze mid-sentence. “Oh, Breaker above, Glynda… you look beautiful.”

“Doesn’t she just?” Arturia murmured from the corner, sipping tea with a proud little smile.

“Thank you. Both of you.” Glynda’s reflection smiled back at them, faint and shaky. Her hair was swept into an elegant twist, her gown a soft ivory that rose neatly to her collarbone. Delicate floral patterns traced her sleeves like frost (she remembered how Ruby said she looked like one of those Wisney Princesses when Izzy took her and the kids dress shopping). The stylist was just applying a final touch of burgundy to her lips when the realization hit — this was real.

“This is… actually happening,” she whispered, a small, disbelieving laugh escaping her. “I… I’m actually getting married.”

Isabel smirked. “Just think — if you hadn’t gone to Patch that day…”

Glynda’s eyes snapped to her through the mirror, that trademark Goodwitch glare making the stylist nearly drop her brush. “I think a lack of a wedding would’ve been the least of our concerns that day.”

Isabel opened and closed her mouth, remembering the incident that brought her and Tai together. “Ah. Right. Sorry.”

Her bravado quickly returned. “Still — imagine telling your past self you’d end up as Glynda Goodwitch–Xiao-Long.”

That made Glynda laugh outright. “I probably would’ve flung that insane woman out the nearest window for even suggesting it.”

“And becoming a mother at the same time…” Isabel teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

Glynda’s smile softened. “Yes… and a mother. Of two wonderful children.”

They shared a quiet moment through the mirror, both of them a little teary.

“…Not as wonderful as my children, though,” Isabel said at last.

Glynda arched her brow. “Izzy, it’s not a competition.”

The door swung open again before Isabel could retort.

“So!” Saia declared, sweeping into the room with enthusiasm. “The cake is here, the groom is here, the guests are here, the bridesmaids are here, the groomsmen are here — everything is ready! Now the only question left is…”

She grinned down at Glynda. “Is the beautiful bride ready for her wedding?”

The stylist dabbed the last bit of color on Glynda’s lashes and stepped back. Glynda rose slowly, smoothing her dress, and met her reflection one final time.

“Yes,” she said softly. “I believe she is.”

“Magnifique!” Arturia cheered, setting down her teacup. “Now, come — the cake at the reception looks delicious!”

“Nana, please…” Isabel groaned, face in her hands, while Glynda and Saia shared a laugh at the older woman’s impeccable sense of priorities.

“Seriously, how are you not freaking out? Is it because it’s your third time?” Nick asked, watching Tai calmly button his suit jacket.

“Thank you for the reminder, Nick…” Tai muttered dryly, shaking his head. “Real confidence booster.”

“Nicholas, don’t be rude,” Arjun said from the corner, his tone smooth as ever while he adjusted his cufflinks. “What I think he means is—any man would be nervous, marrying a woman as beautiful as Glynda Goodwitch.”

Tai shot him a smirk. “I’ll be sure to let your wife know you said that.”

“…Please don’t.” Arjun replied immediately, color draining from his dark face.

Tai chuckled, straightening his tie. “Honestly, I don’t get it either. But with Glynda, it’s kind of like… we’ve been doing everything in reverse, you know? After the ceremony, life’s… still gonna be the same, in a way. The only thing I’m nervous about is if I’ll be able to get through my vows once I see her in that dress.”

“Then why even have the ceremony?” came a familiar drawl.

The door swung open, and Qrow stumbled in—tie half-done, hair actually combed for once. “Seriously, there’s not even any alcohol. What kind of wedding doesn’t have alcohol? Your bachelor party was a four-way, no-rules brawl—which I won, by the way—and now I can’t even get hammered to celebrate?”

“Nuh-uh! I won!” Nick protested.

Tai snorted. “...Last I checked, I won that fight, actually.”

“Pfft, yeah right,” Qrow shot back. “We just let you think that ‘cause you’re the groom—ow, damn!” He doubled over as Arjun elbowed him in the ribs.

“Qrow, buddy,” Nick said between laughs, “come by our place after the reception. We’ve got a cellar full of wine.”

Qrow perked up immediately. “Fuck yeah! That’s how you plan a wedding, Tai. You know what? Just for that—you’re my Best Man at my wedding.”

Nick pumped a fist. “Really? Yippee!”

Arjun smirked. “Oh? So you’re sure you’ll get married, are you?”

Qrow blinked, thinking it over, then shrugged. “Eh… maybe. If I find the right woman.”

Tai grinned. “Right. In… Atlas.”

The others snickered. Qrow pointed at him, smirking. “Hey, man, you never know!”

A knock interrupted the laughter. The door cracked open and the priest leaned in. “We’re ready when you are.”

Tai nodded, taking a steadying breath. “Alright. We’ll be there in a minute.”

As the door shut, Tai adjusted his jacket one last time and turned to his friends with a grin. “Alright, gents… let’s get married.”

Qrow raised a fist. “Third time’s the charm!”

“Qrow!” Arjun barked, smacking him on the back of the head.

Yang had to stifle a laugh as she stood next to Jaune in the front row, watching Qrow lean over and comically lift Tai’s jaw shut as Glynda began her slow glide down the aisle.

“Who’s that?” Jaune whispered, nodding toward the man escorting Glynda—silver-haired, a pair of small black glasses perched on his nose.

“Dunno,” Yang muttered. “But he looks pretty old.”

“Shh!” Katy hissed. 

Both of them snapped upright, faces suddenly innocent, as Ruby and Orchid finished scattering petals and skipped (in Ruby’s case) to join them.

At the altar, the priest was speaking — but Tai barely heard a word. His world had narrowed to Glynda, standing next to him radiant and calm, framed in the soft glow of morning light.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered over to her.

She leaned in, lips twitching, just enough for him to hear. “You’ve looked far worse.”

It took everything he had not to laugh aloud.

When the priest asked if they’d written their own vows, Tai nodded, pulling a folded slip of paper from his pocket. His hands trembled slightly, the nerves finally hitting him.

“Glynda,” he began softly, voice thick with emotion. “When you first found me — broken, alone — you didn’t hesitate. You stopped everything to help pick up the pieces… just because you wanted to be a good friend.”

Glynda’s lips trembled, her eyes fixed on his.

“You stepped into a role you’d never asked for, that no one asked you to do,” Tai continued, “and somehow, you made it seem effortless. And every time you looked at me like I could still be something… I fell a little deeper in love with you.”

He exhaled and steadied himself.

“You’ve seen me at my worst — at my most vulnerable. Thank you for taking my hand when I didn’t even have the courage to reach for you. Thank you for not shying away from raising two girls who already knew too much of the world. Thank you… for making us a family again. I could not have asked for a better partner.”

Glynda was already crying — and Tai, smiling softly, added, “Also — thank you for becoming the gamer parent, because Breaker above, I cannot keep up with those two anymore.”

Laughter rippled through the hall, breaking the tension. Even Glynda giggled, wiping a tear from her cheek before taking a steadying breath.

Then it was her turn.

Glynda had memorized her vows, though her voice trembled as she began.

“Taiyang,” she said softly. “When you asked me to marry you—on our couch, after cleaning up the holiday decorations—it was the single most terrifying moment of my life. But when I realized it wasn’t another dream… that you were actually asking me…” She smiled faintly. “It became the most wonderful one.”

A breath shuddered through her chest before she continued.

“You’ve given me the chance to be part of an incredible family. One with two very loud, very energetic, and very wonderful children… and one amazing, inspiring, and ridiculously handsome father who reminds me every day what it means to be a good person. Someone who keeps standing up, no matter how hard the world tries to knock him down.”

Her voice wavered, but she held her smile.

“And one day, I hope I can be at least half as brave as that man—so I can walk beside him, not behind.”

By the time she finished, both of them were crying openly, their hands still joined.

The priest hesitated for a moment, smiling softly. “If anyone has any objections,” he said, “speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

From the front row, Yang noticed both Qrow and the silver-haired man glance upward. She followed their gaze to a single bird perched on the open beam of the roof. It tilted its head… then stayed still.

“Do you—”

“Yes,” Tai said immediately.

“And do you—”

“Yes!” Glynda blurted, laughing through her tears.

“Then, by the power vested in me by the Church of the Tablebreakers and the State of Vale,” the priest declared, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride!”

The hall erupted into cheers as Glynda Goodwitch-Xiao-Long took hold of her husband, dipped him dramatically, and kissed him long and deep—to roaring applause and the echo of wings brushing through sunlight above.

Chapter Text

“Glynda,” Ozpin greeted warmly as he approached, the familiar tap of his cane soft against the wooden deck. “You look beautiful.”

The reception filled the Arcs’ backyard with life — strings of fairy lights woven through the trees, the soft hum of a live band drifting under the laughter and clinking glasses. Children darted between tables. Adults lingered under the setting sun. The air itself seemed to glow.

Glynda watched the scene with quiet satisfaction: Ironwood laughing at something Nick had said — Izzy pink to the ears beside him; Yang and Katy deep in conversation about summer plans; Ruby balancing a cupcake tower dangerously close to disaster. It was all so… perfect.

Tai stood beside her, his hand resting at her waist as they took it in together. She felt him tense the moment he spotted Ozpin heading their way, but one sharp glance from his new wife kept any comments safely contained.

“Thank you, Ozpin,” Glynda said, smiling. “And for walking me down the aisle — that meant more than I can say.”

He returned the smile with his own, gentle one, the familiar glint in his eyes. “Of course. After all, I’m old enough to walk everyone here down the aisle.”

She laughed softly, but the mirth faded when Ozpin’s hand settled gently on her shoulder.

“They’d be proud of you, you know? For everything.”

Her breath caught. She nearly started crying again, but steadied herself with a trembling smile. “I—thank you, Oz.”

Then he turned to Tai. “Hello, Tai,” he said, extending a hand.

“Ozpin,” Tai replied, shaking it firmly. The tone wasn’t cold — just guarded. “Glad you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” Ozpin said sincerely. He reached into his coat and produced an envelope sealed with the Beacon Academy crest. “And, as tradition demands, I come bearing a gift. Though,” he added with a faint grin, “it’s more for the bride than the groom.”

Glynda turned the envelope over curiously in her hands. “Beacon’s seal?” she murmured.

Tai groaned. “Ozpin, if this is you trying to recruit my new wife for another mission, you really need to read the room, old man.”

Without looking up, Glynda swatted him on the shoulder. “You promised,” she muttered.

He sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets as Ozpin chuckled.

“No, no, Tai,” Ozpin said. “I assure you, I’ve learned my lesson about that.”

“Oh really?” came Isabel’s familiar voice as she approached with Ironwood and Nick in tow, arms crossed, eyebrow twitching. “If only that were true for everyone.”

Ozpin raised both hands — and his cane — in mock surrender. “Peace, Mrs. Arc. I assure you, I have no plans to drag anyone into another ‘cabal,’ as you so eloquently put it once.”

“I will admit though, while my gift for Glynda is a… type of mission… It is a different kind of offer.” Ozpin hastily rushed out when he noticed the way Tai’s and Isabel’s muscles tensed. 

His eyes gleamed faintly behind his glasses. “Think of it more as a… professional invitation. A job offer, if you will.”

Glynda blinked, finally looking up. “A job offer?” she whispered. “Ozpin, is this…?”

Ozpin nodded, smiling. “Around two weeks ago, Beacon’s Combat Instructor announced his intent to retire, leaving the position vacant this coming Winter semester. After some discussion among the staff, we all agreed—there’s no one more suited for the role than you. If you’ll accept it.”

Her breath caught. She stared down at the envelope as if it were a bomb.

A teaching position. At Beacon.

“I—well—this is— I—my dream,” she stammered. “But… I have children now, and—”

“Oh, for gods’ sake, Glynda, just take the damn job!” Izzy cut in, grinning ear to ear.

Glynda blinked at her, and suddenly everyone was looking at her with knowing smiles. “This is your dream, Glyn,” Tai said softly. “Take it and run.”

She bit her lip, nerves fluttering. “B-but Patch is so far away! And the girls—and you teach at Signal and—”

“Which is on Patch,” Tai said with a small laugh, slipping an arm around her waist. “We’ll figure something out. We always do.”

“If it helps,” Ozpin stepped forward, tone light but reassuring. “Beacon can provide a family Airship Pass and full travel clearance from Patch’s station directly to the Academy’s landing zone. The flight takes—what?—an hour, hour fifteen at most. Not too bad for a morning commute.” He smiled faintly. “And if the girls being home alone is a concern, I’m sure none of the faculty would object to them visiting campus. Professor Port’s children practically live in the daycare, after all.”

He adjusted his glasses. “Besides, when Ruby nervously asked who I was earlier, she already begged me to let her apply.” His eyes twinkled. “Adorable little girl, that one.”

Ignoring the tiny pang of unease she felt when he said that, Glynda folded her arms, eyebrow arching. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

Ozpin’s smirk deepened. “What can I say? I really do want you to take the job.”

She laughed, the tension finally breaking. “Very well. It seems I have no other choice.”

Ironwood snapped his fingers in mock defeat. “Damn! There goes my offer from Atlas.”

Tai chuckled as Glynda opened the envelope again, her hands trembling this time out of joy. Her eyes shimmered as she traced the Beacon crest with her thumb.

For once, Tai’s grin towards him wasn’t forced; it was full of quiet gratitude. “Thanks, Oz. Really.”

Ozpin inclined his head, that familiar glint in his eyes. “Of course. And don’t worry—my other gift is somewhere in the pile. Qrow tells me you’ve become quite the coffee drinker lately?…”

“So… you’re married.”

Qrow’s voice was low, almost lost beneath the hum of music and laughter. He and Glynda sat at a small round table on the edge of the reception, the fairy lights above them flickering in the breeze. Out on the dance floor, Tai was twirling Ruby and Yang in his arms, the three of them glowing beneath the soft gold light.

Glynda nodded. “That I am.”

Qrow leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs with a quiet groan. “Cool… cool.”

They sat in silence for a while, watching as Tai tossed Yang into the air, catching her easily while Ruby laughed and clapped beside them.

“Gotta say,” Qrow muttered after a moment, “this isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”

Glynda turned slightly toward him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes forward. “Remember when I first found you two together? Couple years back?”

“I do.”

“I thought Tai was rushing it,” he admitted. “That he was trying to fill the hole Summer left, trying to replace her as soon as possible… the way I fill mine with—” He lifted his cider, half a smirk on his face. “You know.”

She didn’t interrupt. Just let him keep going.

“But clearly that’s not what this is,” Qrow went on. “He’s way too happy for you to just be a replacement. So… thanks, I guess.”

Glynda smiled softly, her eyes warm. “…You’re welcome.”

They fell quiet again, the music drifting softly around them. Then, almost absently, Glynda said, “I saw Summer.”

Qrow froze mid-sip and nearly choked. He coughed, thumping his chest. “You—what?”

Glynda didn’t look at him. Her gaze stayed on the dance floor, on the girls spinning beneath the lights. “At the park one day. I was watching the girls play, and then… there was a voice beside me. Asking about them. How they were doing.”

Her expression softened, faraway. “When I turned, she was sitting right there on the bench beside me. Summer. Smiling.”

Qrow stared at her, speechless.

“But when the girls ran back over,” Glynda continued, “she was gone. Vanished. And they said there’d never been anyone there.”

Qrow leaned back slowly, exhaling. “…Holy shit.”

“I know.” Glynda’s smile was faint, wistful. “Maybe it was just my mind trying to reassure me she’d be alright with all this. But—”

“She would be.”

Glynda looked over. Qrow’s voice had gone soft, his eyes still on Tai and the girls.

“That’s who she was, after all,” he said.

He looked over at her then, and she saw the same grief and gratitude she felt reflected back in his eyes.

“Yes,” she said softly. “That’s true.”

They raised their glasses, clinking them gently in the air.

After a few beats of comfortable quiet, Glynda spoke again, her voice soft. “So… are we ever going to meet her?”

Qrow froze halfway through a sip. “…Who?”

“The woman you’ve been seeing in Atlas,” she said, taking a slow drink of cider, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Clearly she’s been good for you. Despite what you claim, you don’t drink nearly as much anymore.”

Qrow snorted. “What makes you so sure it’s a woman? What if I just decided to get better on my own, huh? I thought you were smarter than Nick.”

“Qrow.” Glynda rested a hand lightly on his shoulder. “I learned a long time ago that the kind of growth you’ve gone through—you don’t do that alone.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… guess you’re right. Welp, that makes this easier, I suppose.”

Her brow lifted as he reached inside his jacket and produced a parcel wrapped in a silver and blue ribbon.

“…How did you even fit that in there?” she asked, both impressed and mildly alarmed as he handed her a box the size of a brick.

Qrow smirked and leaned back into his chair. “I have a really good tailor.”

Glynda chuckled, turning the gift in her hands as though studying a riddle.

“You can open it now, by the way,” Qrow said, watching her with a lazy grin. “Just—uh—careful. It’s fragile.”

Glynda raised an eyebrow again but smirked. “Alright then… if you insist…” she murmured, peeling back the ribbon with deliberate care. The lid lifted—and she gasped.

Inside the box, encased in a clear glass cube, was a rose. A large, blue rose, its petals gleaming faintly beneath the light. When she leaned closer, she realized it wasn’t real at all. The surface caught and scattered light like crystal.

“…Dust,” she whispered. “It’s made of Dust.”

Qrow nodded. “Yep. Ice Dust, to be exact. Keep it away from small children—and large Nicks. Very important distinction.”

Glynda laughed, incredulous. “Qrow, how did you even get this? It must’ve cost a fortune!”

He shrugged. “It’s not from me. My gift’s still somewhere in the pile. Check the box again.”

Curious, she set the rose carefully on the table and lifted a small card tucked beneath the wrapping. Inside, written in elegant, looping handwriting, was a single line:

‘Glynda… we’ll laugh about this together someday.’

She snorted softly, shaking her head. “Tell your… mysterious paramour that I said thank you. It’s beautiful.”

Qrow gave a nonchalant nod, pretending to be absorbed in Tai’s enthusiastic—if questionable—attempts at dancing. Out on the floor, Ruby was trying to teach him a move, and failing spectacularly. Yang had wandered off to the side, being guided through a very rough attempt at a slow dance by Jaune, despite the music not matching the tempo at all.

Glynda laughed when she caught the eyes of her husband from afar, and Qrow pointed at him, smirking. “You’re sure that’s the guy you wanna stick with?”

Glynda giggled and wiped her eyes. “I’m sure.”

Qrow took another swig of cider, then asked quietly, “…Does Tai know?”

“…About your lover?” Glynda shook her head. “No. And Isabel still thinks Nick’s lost his mind for believing it. Don’t worry—I won’t tell them. Not until you’re ready.”

Qrow drained his glass and nodded. “Thanks, Glyn. And… welcome to the family, by the way.”

She smiled at him, warm and genuine. Silence settled again, easy this time.

After a moment, Glynda smirked. “You’re not still mad you weren’t Best Man, are you?”

Qrow huffed. “That fight was a draw, and Izzy was Maid of Honor! Odds were stacked against me from the start! I won the foursome though!”

“Oh gods, please don’t say it like that!”

“You’re married now!”

Glynda laughed at Ruby’s declaration. The three of them—Ruby, Yang, and Glynda—had drifted to the old wooden steps, the same spot where Glynda had once sat with Isabel. Each held a slice of cake; Glynda still wore her wedding dress, her shoes kicked off to the side.

“Yes, Ruby,” she said fondly. “I am married now.”

Ruby nodded eagerly. “Uh-huh, uh-huh! That means you and Dad love each other, right?”

Glynda smiled, already sensing where this was going. “In this case, yes, it does.”

Ruby beamed. “So then that means…”

Glynda turned toward Yang, who was already smirking.

“I guess, yeah,” Yang said with a shrug.

Glynda chuckled and looked back to the younger sister. “You wanted to ask me something, Ruby?”

The seven-year-old practically bounced into her lap. “Can I call you Mom now?!”

Glynda’s breath caught. She nodded, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes that she wiped away. “Nothing would make me happier.”

Ruby’s cake hit the porch with a soft splat as she threw herself into Glynda’s arms, knocking her flat onto her back.

“Finally!” Ruby cheered, shaking her with unrestrained joy. “Finally I can call you Mom! Yang, can you believe it? We have another mom now!”

Glynda laughed helplessly beneath her, still holding her close.

Yang only grinned over her cake. “I know,” she said smugly. “I already got to call her Mom before.”

Ruby froze mid-celebration. Slowly, she turned toward her sister. “…What?”

“Yep. When they first told us they were getting married.” Yang took another bite, totally unbothered.

“WHAT?!” Ruby shrieked, startling a few nearby guests. She scrambled off Glynda and lunged toward Yang, her red dress dragging through the dirt. “Betrayer! Cheater! You always told me—”

Splat!

Both sisters froze. Yang’s slice of cake had slid off her plate, frosting-first into the grass.

“…Awww,” Yang groaned, staring mournfully at it. “My cake…”

After Glynda broke up the fight and left to fetch Yang a new slice, her bare feet carried her through a trail of crushed cake and soft grass. When she returned, the three of them sat together in silence, watching the crowd. Both daughters leaned against her shoulders — one on each side

“So, um… Mom…” Ruby began, fiddling with her fingers.

Glynda smiled faintly. “Yes, Ruby?” she asked, her eyes still on the guests. Across the tent, Nick and Qrow were already arm wrestling — or rather, Nick was in the process of slamming Qrow’s arm straight through a table. The wood cracked in half, splinters flying. Qrow stood, brushed the debris off his jacket, and Isabel promptly marched over to shout at her husband before punching him clean through the roof of the tent.

Glynda exhaled quietly through her nose in amusement. Ruby didn’t see any of it; she was still staring at her lap, twisting her fingers together. 

“Um… since you’re married now…” Ruby mumbled, “are you and Dad gonna give us… another sister?”

Glynda’s fork froze halfway to her mouth. The slice of cake slipped off and fell back onto her plate. Her face drained of color, and her throat felt like it was being clogged.

Yang caught the look instantly. “Hey… Ruby…” she warned gently, trying to stop her.

“Or a brother!” Ruby blurted before Yang could finish. “A brother would be fine too! Actually, both would be great! Then we could have a big family like Jaune’s! Because—well, Orchid told me that when two people love each other very much, they get a baby, and I was just wondering—”

Glynda forced a steady breath, setting her fork down with care. “I… was afraid you were going to ask me that,” she murmured.

Ruby and Yang both looked up, her concern replacing her curiosity. “What? Why?” Ruby asked softly.

Glynda met her eyes, her smile gentle but fragile around the edges. “Ruby,” she said quietly, “you won’t be having another sibling.”

Ruby blinked. “What? Why not?”

Glynda’s smile trembled, but she kept it there, as if holding it might make it real.

“Because,” she said, voice barely above a whisper, “I can’t have children.”

Both girls froze. Then Ruby tilted her head, eyes wide with innocent curiosity. 

“…Why?”

“Ruby!” Yang hissed, shooting her a look. Ruby immediately shrank back, shoulders hunching as guilt flickered across her face — but Glynda reached over, resting a steadying hand on her knee.

“It’s alright,” she said softly. “She didn’t know. No one did — not even Isabel or Nick. The only one who ever knew was your father.”

Her gaze drifted down, her smile trembling as she tried to keep it steady. “A… long time ago, there was an incident—one that needed many Huntsmen and Huntresses. I went to help… And while I was there, I made a foolish mistake, and paid the price for it. I… fell… a very, very long fall, and I… landed on something sharp. Right here,” she pointed, “underneath my stomach. I was lucky to survive. And, ever since then… I haven’t been able to have children of my own.”

Ruby’s expression fell. Guilt shone faintly in her silver eyes. “Oh… I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Glynda shook her head gently and pulled both girls into her arms, holding them close against her sides. “Oh, Ruby, no… it’s alright.” Her voice quavered, quiet but warm. “I just… need to ask. Does that bother you? Either of you — that you won’t have another sibling?”

Her throat tightened on the last word, but Ruby lifted her head, pressing her chin against Glynda’s chest and looking up with fierce sincerity. “What? No! You’re our mom! Why would it bother us?! Right, Yang?”

Yang smirked and mirrored Ruby on Glynda’s other side. “Yeah. Besides, can you imagine a second Ruby running around the house? Absolute nightmare.”

Glynda laughed at Ruby’s betrayed expression through a wet breath, wiping at the tears streaking her cheeks. “Yang… don’t bully your sister.” She smiled down at them, her eyes shimmering. “And besides, while the world would be a more beautiful place with more people like you in it…”

She bent down and kissed them both on their foreheads, lingering there for a heartbeat before whispering, “…my life is already perfect with just the two of you as my daughters. Never forget that.”

Ruby’s face brightened again. “Heee!~” she giggled, burying herself against Glynda’s dress.

Yang smiled too, leaning into her other side, and for a moment, everything was still—quiet laughter, evening breeze, and the peace of a family finally whole.

Half a Year After the Wedding (Yang is 10, Ruby is 7)

September

“Okay, Glynda. Breathe.”

She stood before the classroom doors, hands clasped tightly around her riding crop. “Your first day. Behind these doors are your very first students. You need to make a good impression. Show them what kind of teacher you’re going to be.”

She gave the Disciplinarian a sharp slap against her palm — a sound that helped steady her nerves.

“Be tough. Firm. But also gentle. Kind. Show them you’re here to guide them, not judge them.”

Another deep breath. She glanced at the clock above the door. Thirty seconds until the second bell. Her back straightened, shoulders set. She cleaned her glasses, adjusted the line of her cape, and fixed her trademark glare — the one that said she meant business, not just about her job but also their futures.

The bell rang.

Immediately, she pushed the doors open and strode inside. Conversations died mid-sentence. Students hastily hushed one another as her heels clicked across the floor, each step deliberate, her cape sweeping behind her in quiet authority.

Her emerald eyes scanned the rows. One student lingered too long on her stockings. Glynda stopped just long enough to slap her riding crop against their desk. The sharp crack made them jolt upright, cheeks burning red. She didn’t have to say a word.

At last, she reached the center of the lecture hall. With one final snap of the crop against her hand, she began.

“Good morning, everyone. I am Professor Goodwitch–Xiao-Long, and from this day forward, I will be your Beacon Combat Instructor.”

She let the title hang in the air, her Albion accent pronounced — deliberately so. “It can be… intimidating at times.” Tai told her once. Good.

Her gaze swept the room again. The students were sitting perfectly still, backs straight, eyes forward.

“I know you’ve already completed a semester of training,” she continued, beginning to pace with calm precision. “I’ve read your reports. I’ve reviewed your grades. I have been given a review by your previous instructor on not just the material you’ve already covered… but also extensive personal evaluations on each and every one of you…”

The crop tapped softly against her palm. Her tone cooled, and everyone shivered. “That means I know exactly who you are — your skill levels, your habits, how you think, how you fight. I know your teams. Your dynamics. I know how well you function, both as individuals…”

Her eyes flicked back to the student from before, who immediately averted their gaze.

“…and as a group. And I know precisely which areas each of you are… lacking in.”

A ripple of unease passed through the room. Fidgeting. Quick glances exchanged between teammates. Glynda watched it all — then turned on her heel, striding toward the board.

“Which,” she said, her voice softening slightly, “is exactly why I’m here. Why we are all here.” 

She set the crop and her scroll down, and she picked up a marker. “I have been given the task to make you all better. But I am not satisfied with that. No, I have given myself an additional task: To turn each of you into the best version of yourselves — not just on the battlefield, but right here, among your peers.”

As she spoke, Glynda began writing out her full name in bold, elegant strokes. 

“Everyone here,” she said, still writing, “not just your teammates, is fighting the same enemies you are. Enemies that want to hurt you… break you. Break everything and everyone you know.”

She set the marker down and faced them again, arms folding across her chest.

“That’s why we train together. Learn together. Fight together. I am not here to turn you into heroes who throw their lives away at the first chance to play martyr. And I am not here to turn you into soldiers who follow orders blindly, even when they shouldn’t.”

Her gaze swept the room, making every student sit taller without realizing it. The glare she’d worn earlier was gone now, replaced with something sharper — a challenge.

“I am here,” she continued, her tone low but resolute, “to turn you into warriors. Into thinkers. I’m here to help you become not just someone who fights harder, better, faster… stronger — but someone who fights smarter. Someone who questions everything.”

She paced in the front of the lecture hall once again, her heels clicking in rhythm with her words. “That means questioning me — whether what I’m teaching you is useful, or even necessary. But more importantly…”

She stopped, letting the silence stretch before finishing, “…someone who questions themselves.”

Her eyes roamed across the rows, meeting each student’s in turn. When she reached the one who’d stared at her earlier, she found them holding her gaze this time, steady and unflinching.

For the briefest moment, Glynda’s lips curved into a grin. Years later, students of that class would tell their children it was one of maybe six or seven times they ever saw her smile like that throughout all four years of class.

She resumed pacing. “I need you all to question yourselves. And I don’t mean wondering which weapon works best for disemboweling a Grimm — that’s something we’ll figure out together.” She paused. “Besides, a Grimm doesn’t have guts. There’s nothing to disembowel.”

The class broke into laughter, startled by the dry humor. It faded quickly when Glynda’s eyebrow arched. 

“I don’t mean questioning the answers on your Mathematics assignments either — you’ll work those out with your peers.” She stopped again, voice softening. “No. The only thing I want — the one thing I need you to question constantly — is this.”

Her voice dropped, quiet but deliberate. 

“Am I really being the best possible version of myself right now… to help not just myself, but the world?”

A hush settled over the room. Students exchanged uncertain glances, unsure if they were expected to answer.

“If you can ask yourself that question,” Glynda said, her tone cooling again, “and your answer is an absolute, unquestionable ‘yes’…” She gestured toward the door. “Then you may leave. I have nothing to teach those unwilling to learn anything new.”

Chairs creaked as several students unconsciously leaned forward — some curious, some uneasy. But none attempted to leave.

“But,” she continued, her voice rising with conviction, “if there is even a small sliver of doubt in your mind when you ask yourself that question…”

She let the pause linger, her eyes scanning across every face.

“…then it means you’re in the right place. And you and I have work to do — together.”

The same student from before leaned forward with the others, the earlier nervousness replaced by a spark of excitement.

Glynda let the moment breathe, then clasped her hands behind her back.

“So,” she asked, calm and clear, “any questions?”

Every hand in the hall shot up at once.

For a brief, unguarded moment, Glynda felt a swell of triumph, almost breaking out into song right then and there. She cleared her throat instead, adjusting her glasses and scanning the crowd.

“Erm… yes, you there. Miss Tethi, was it?”

The girl she pointed to — long black hair tied behind her head, a mouth mask covering half her face — blinked and looked sideways at her teammates. The fox faunus next to her only shrugged, ears twitching. Apparently Glynda hadn’t been exaggerating about those “extensive personal evaluations.”

“Uh… yeah,” Tethi said, voice somehow clear through the mask. “I just wanted to say… your scroll’s been ringing. Since, uh, you walked in actually.”

Glynda paused, one brow lifting. Then she turned toward her desk, where the faint vibration of her scroll was indeed humming on top of the surface.

“…So it is,” she said evenly.

Marching over, she plucked the device off the table, jaw tightening as she wondered who would dare interrupt her first lesson. “Impressive sense of hearing, Miss Tethi,” she called over her shoulder.

The girl flushed beneath her mask and rubbed the back of her neck, mumbling something that sounded like a bashful “thank you.”

When Glynda glanced at the caller ID, however, her stern expression faltered. Her eyes softened — just for a moment. Then she pressed “Decline,” placed the scroll back on the desk, and turned back to her students.

“Thank you, Miss Tethi. Now, anyone el—”

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Glynda froze mid-sentence, her smile stiffening. She turned back toward the desk, voice calm but taut.

“…Your scroll is ringing again, by the w—”

“Yes, thank you, Miss Tethi!” Glynda snapped before the girl could finish.

She stalked back to the desk and declined the call again, more firmly this time, silently begging the caller to take the hint.

Seconds ticked by. The device stayed silent.

She exhaled, straightened, and turned back toward the class with forced composure. “Alright then. Now, does anyone else—”

Bzzt. Bzzt.

The corner of her eye twitched. Slowly, deliberately, Glynda turned back to the desk for a third time.

Laughter began bubbling from the rows of seats, quickly stifled when her emerald glare swept over them.

“...I think the person on the other end really wants to call yo—”

“Soyeon!” her fox teammate shrieked, slapping the back of her head.

The girl with the mask — Soyeon— snorted, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter as the rest of the class tried, and failed, to keep straight faces.

“Stop it!” her other teammate hissed, one with long silky black hair tied in a ponytail.

Soyeon just grinned beneath her mask.

Glynda’s hand twitched toward the riding crop — then stopped. Her first day, she reminded herself. Deep breath.

When Soyeon’s team kept arguing amongst each other, Glynda’s glare cut through the laughter like a whip. All four students snapped upright in perfect silence.

Her words, however, lingered.

‘There must be a reason that she keeps calling… What if something’s happened? It could be an emergency…’

‘Better safe than sorry…’

With a sigh, Glynda pinched the bridge of her nose and picked up the scroll. 

“Apologies, class. This will only take a moment.”

She tapped the call icon, switching to voice only.

“Sweetie, is everything alr—”

“HI MOM!”

The shout nearly blew out the speaker. Glynda flinched and jerked the scroll as far from her ear as she could manage. Several students in the front row winced, and a few faunus — Soyeon’s teammate among them — clamped their hands over their ears.

When the ringing in her head subsided, Glynda brought the scroll back, expression tight. “Ruby,” she said with forced composure, “please don’t scream into the microphone like that.”

“Oh! Sorry!” came Ruby’s muffled voice, followed by the sound of frantic shuffling. Then, in a much more reasonable tone: “How’s this?”

Glynda exhaled through her nose. “Better. Now, is everything alright? You were quite persistent with your calls — this had better be impor—”

“I just wanted to say good luck with your classes!”

“...Huh?”

Even through the scroll, Glynda could feel her daughter’s smile radiating across the distance.

“Yeah! I just wanted to wish you good luck! I think it’s super cool that you’re teaching at Beacon now, and—and I hope your students realize how cool you are! Because you are cool! A-and I love you!”

A few students burst into quiet laughter. Soyeon’s team audibly cooed. Glynda’s eyebrow twitched, her cheeks threatening to betray her with warmth.

Her glare turned lethal. The class immediately stifled every giggle, though the occasional muffled snort still slipped through.

Leaning back, Glynda spoke into the receiver with a sigh. “Ruby… did you just call me three times in a row to wish me good luck on my… wait. Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?”

“Classes were cancelled!”

“Cancelled?! On your first day?!” Glynda’s voice pitched up, disbelief cracking through her professionalism. The students erupted in laughter — and instantly silenced again under her glare.

“Yep!… Wait, who’s that in the background?”

Glynda’s jaw clenched. “My class, Ruby.”

The line went dead quiet for five long seconds.

“Oh…” Ruby finally squeaked.

“Yes. ‘Oh.’” Glynda drawled, utterly deadpan.

Soyeon’s shoulders shook with restrained laughter. Glynda turned her head ever so slightly in her direction — enough to make the girl raise both hands in surrender, grinning behind her mask.

Another sigh. Glynda focused back on her scroll. “Anyway, Ruby, as you can see, I’m rather busy. But thank you for the kind words, and—”

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Glynda froze. She pulled the scroll away, looked at it, then back toward her ear.

“Ruby,” she said, voice flat, “did you just request to switch to a video call?”

“...Maybe.”

Glynda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Did you not hear the part where I said I’m very busy right now?”

“Pleeeeeeeease, moooooooooom?! Please, please, please, pleeease!”

A ripple of laughter broke out through the classroom. This time, not even Glynda’s sharpest glare could fully suppress them.

“C’mon, Professor G.X.L! Just do it!” Soyeon called out from the front, grinning mischievously under her mask.

A chorus of encouragement followed. Glynda stared at them — then at her scroll — then let out a long, exhausted sigh.

“Fine,” she muttered, grimacing as she pressed accept. The small screen flickered to life. “Class, everyone, this is my daughter—Ruby. Ruby, this is my class.”

“Hi guyyyyys!!” Ruby chirped, waving enthusiastically from the other side.

“Hiiii Rubyyy!!!” the class shouted back in unison.

Glynda covered her face with one hand. ‘So this is my legacy.’

Ruby beamed as her gaze darted from one student to the next. “Wow, your uniforms look so cool! Way better than mine! Oh—oh! Your eyes!” She pointed at one of Soyeon’s teammates near the front with golden irises that shimmered faintly. “They’re so pretty! And your hair too! It’s the same color as my eyes!”

The girl grinned. “Why, thank you, darling. Your eyes are quite beautiful as well.”

Ruby squeaked delightedly. “Heee!~”

“Gods, she's so adorable!” the girl whispered to her fox faunus teammate.

“I know right?”

Ruby, oblivious, leaned close to the camera. “What about your weapons? Do you guys have your weapons on you? Can I see them? Please? Pleeeeeease? Pretty please? Pretty Please with a cherry on top?”

The class blinked at the whiplash of that request, unsure how they’d gone from eyes and hair to weapon show-and-tell in two seconds flat.

Glynda’s mouth twitched into an involuntary smile. “They do not have their weapons on them, Ruby. They left them in their lockers. You can ask them about them when you…” —she winced internally— “...come visit next week.”

The room exploded into excited whispers.

“QUIET!”

Instant silence.

Ruby, unfazed, giggled. “Guys, don’t worry! She’s not as scary as you all—uh…”

Her mother’s icy gaze swiveled toward the camera.

“…think,” Ruby finished meekly, gulping. “I mean, she’s kinda scary. Ahahahaha…”

Glynda arched one perfect eyebrow in warning.

“But don’t worry! Mom started training me a while back, and I’d like to think I’ve gotten pretty strong! A-and if she gives you even half the level of training she’s been giving me, then you’ll turn out super strong! Because, well, you’re older and stronger anyways than me. B-but seriously! She’s the strongest, so you’ll be fine.”

Soyeon and the rest of the class looked at their Professor, amused at the gradual increase of redness on her cheeks.

“And I mean it! She’s so, so, so strong! Like maybe the strongest Huntress out there. A-and I’m not just saying that because she’s my mom. She didn’t even give birth to me! But like she’s done everything else for me what a mom usually does a-and she’s still thought to be the strongest huntress around and am I rambling? I think I’m rambling. Hey Mom, am I ramblin–”

“Yes, Ruby, you are,” Glynda groaned, her face now thoroughly crimson.

“Oh! Sorry, Mom!” Ruby laughed sheepishly. “Anyway, I’m home now! Just wanted to tell you that you’re gonna do great and—”

“What are you doing?”

Glynda stiffened as a second voice came from her scroll. A very familiar second voice. ‘Wait a second… Why is she home?...’

Ruby blinked, then grinned up toward the source, who was still out of view. “Oh hey, Yang! What’s up?”

The entire class gasped, hands shooting over mouths as whispers began buzzing again like bees in a hive.

Yang ignored her question. “What are you doing home so early?” she asked Ruby.

“Classes were cancelled!” Ruby answered brightly.

“...On your first day?”

Ruby nodded rapidly. “Yep! That’s what Mom said too!”

“Well yeah, no durr—” Yang snorted, before freezing mid-sentence. “Sorry, what did you say, Ruby?”

Ruby tilted her head, confused. “Um… that… classes were cancelled?”

“No, not that.” Yang waved that off, suddenly anxious. “After that.”

“Oh! That!” Ruby brightened. “Yeah, Mom said that when I called her.”

“...What?”

“Yeah! She’s still here on my scroll!”

“WHAT?!” Yang shouted, before her head shoved itself into view beside Ruby—only to go completely pale at the sight of Glynda’s unimpressed, icy glare.

The entire class sat in stunned, wide-eyed silence at her expression. A student in the back coughed nervously. Even Soyeon sank slightly in her seat.

Yang gave a weak, nervous laugh. “Heh… h-hey, Mom… long time no—uh—”

“Yang Xiao-Long,” Glynda said, voice clipped and sharp like a razor, “are you skipping your first day back to school by staying home because you knew neither your father nor I would be there?”

Yang flinched. Her bravado evaporated instantly. Ruby, predictably, snickered beside her.

“...no,” Yang lied, painfully unconvincing.

Glynda arched her brow. Silence stretched until Yang began to visibly sweat.

“We’ll talk later,” Glynda drawled.

Yang nodded meekly. “Y-yes, ma’am.”

With an exhausted sigh, Glynda pressed her fingers to her temple. “Ruby, this chat was… fun,” she said carefully, “but I have to get back to work now.”

“Okay, okay! Bye Mom’s class!” Ruby waved enthusiastically towards the camera.

“Bye Rubyyyyyy!” the class chorused back, laughing as Glynda reluctantly turned the scroll toward them.

Exasperated, Glynda rubbed the side of her head and exhaled through her nose. “Ruby, in the future, please remember to only call me during class hours if there is an emergency. Are we clear?”

Ruby beamed and nodded so fast her hoodie flopped over her head. “Yep yep! Crystal clear! Message received!”

Glynda’s expression softened — just a touch — and her thumb hovered over the end call button. “Good. I’m hanging up now—”

“Wait, Mom!”

Glynda sighed. “What is it, Ruby?”

“...I love you.”

The entire class melted into a collective awwwww. Glynda didn’t even try to silence them this time. A faint blush colored her cheeks as her expression eased into a gentle smile.

“I love you too, Ruby.”

She moved to end the call again before pausing. “Yang?”

A blonde head slowly and nervously peeked into frame, just her forehead and eyes visible. “Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

Yang smiled sheepishly. “…Love you too, Mom.”

“You are still in trouble when I get home though.”

“Maaaaaaan…”

Glynda finally ended the call.

For one blissful second, silence filled the room.

Then chaos erupted.

“Oh my gods they’re so cute!”

“I can’t wait to meet them! They’re both so precious.”

“Do you think what Ruby said is true? That Goodwitch really is that strong?”

“Soooo cuuuuute!”

“I know right? And… and… oh no…”

The last voice trailed off as every student froze mid-sentence.

Professor Goodwitch stood directly in front of them, eyes hidden under a dark shadow, rhythmically slapping her riding crop into her palm.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

“Everyone,” she said in a low, deadly voice, “put on your gear… and meet me at the Emerald Forest in fifteen minutes.”

No one moved. Everyone in class looked at one another, suddenly afraid for their lives.

“NOW.” 

They exploded into motion, jumping over the benches and desks, tripping over each other as they sprinted for the locker rooms.

“Ughhhhhhhhhh…” Glynda groaned, letting her face thunk against the table in the teachers’ lounge.

Her time in the Emerald Forest had been… enlightening, to say the least. For their first day, she’d dropped them straight into team-versus-team 4v4s, using the forest itself as their arena. It was an efficient way to gauge their abilities firsthand without relying on their evaluations.

It also revealed, very quickly, that this class—while full of talent and promise—was pure, unfiltered chaos.

Soyeon’s team especially.

Their leader, Miyo the fox faunus, was quick and nimble, but second-guessed herself every other second. She kept changing her plans mid-fight without so much as a warning to her teammates. Madeline—the silver-haired girl with the gold eyes—handled her rope daggers with frightening precision… but took way too much pleasure inflicting injuries on her opponents. Kaya was a marvel, a quiet genius armed with an ever-evolving exosuit that adapted on the fly. Flight, invisibility, rockets—Glynda was certain she and Ruby would get along alarmingly well.

But for all that power, Kaya was a gentle giant. Half a head taller than the others, painfully shy both in and out of combat. Glynda had watched Soyeon and Madeline physically push her, despite her quiet, desperate protests, toward another group during the wait between rounds—toward a short blond boy who teleported between teams and tripped over his own feet with every blink.

‘That poor girl,’ Glynda had thought.

And speaking of Soyeon…

“For someone who styles themselves after a ninja… why is she so… damn… loud?!” Glynda groaned, each word punctuated by another muffled whomp of her forehead hitting the table.

The mask. The daggers. The smoke bombs. The aesthetic was obvious—a lone, stealthy assassin type. And to her credit, Soyeon could sneak up on opponents.

But then she’d ruin it with makeshift paint bombs that weren’t nearly as silent as she thought… and her pathological need to smack-talk and rap mid-fight. It destroyed any element of surprise she’d worked for.

“How are they crazier than my generation…” Glynda moaned.

Then she remembered the time Nick cut a castle in half. And when Saia leveled a mountain by accident. And when Qrow ended up on Atlas’s Most Wanted list. And—

“Never mind, they still have a ways to go before claiming that title.”

Sighing, she closed her eyes and used her lunch break to mentally jot down areas of growth for each of them.

‘Miyo—she needs to slow down. She’s thinking too much all at once and can’t keep up. Make a plan, stick to the plan, even if it isn’t perfect… That movie Tai showed me… the space one… maybe I can copy that test they did. The one that always ends in failure?’

‘Madeline… she needs to rein in her sadism. Oh gods, that face she made when that boy asked her to step on him—’

Glynda froze, shuddering at the memory of the shameless noises some of her students had made after facing Madeline.

‘—I need to bleach my brain… I’ll address her another time.’

She exhaled and let her forehead rest against the table again, enjoying the cooling relief on the small self-inflicted bruise.

‘Kaya… all she needs is confidence. She has by far the most raw talent and potential of anyone in her class, but she hides in the background too much. She needs to assert herself—suggest ideas, strategies, not just for battle, but for life as well. Maybe I can make her team leader for an exercise or two… trial by fire?’

Then Glynda opened her eyes.

Her exhaustion tripled.

‘And Soyeon… Soyeon is a long-term project. Arrogance will be her downfall one day…’

She groaned and resumed rhythmically head-butting the table.

“And that’s… just… one… team…”

After a few more self-inflicted headbutts against the table, Glynda heard the thump of something heavy landing beside her, followed by the scrape of a chair. She lifted her head slowly, slid her glasses back on, and blinked at the object now sitting in front of her.

In front of her was a box. A large cardboard box. She turned, one eyebrow arched, toward the culprit. A short woman with bushy orange hair and thick circular glasses that covered an obscene amount of freckles beamed back at her. Her Albion accent came out even thicker than Glynda’s.

“You alright?” the woman asked.

Glynda exhaled and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Yes, I’m… alright. My class of first years are just…”

“Ah, say no more,” Thumbelina Peach—Beacon’s Professor of Plant Sciences—said, waving her hand like that explained everything. “I know your class. A bunch of raggedy gremlins who’ll always do the wrong thing if it’s funny enough.”

Glynda hummed, inspecting the box as Peach continued.

“The worst part is they usually are funny. But you can’t laugh, because you’re the big boss. They’re like sharks—smell even a drop of weakness and they’ll tear you apart.”

Peach shuddered. “Honestly, terrifying creatures. Which is why, on the first day, you’ve gotta assert your dominance. Find the biggest one in the yard and show them what’s what.”

Glynda paused, frowning. “Thumbelina, that’s prison.”

“Only if you let it be,” Peach replied cheerfully. Despite herself, Glynda exhaled sharply through her nose, a small chuckle escaping.

“What’s all this, then?” Glynda asked, nudging the box and turning it in place.

“That is an assortment of veggies from the greenhouses. Little welcome gift from me, you know? Carrots, tomatoes, a pumpkin…” Peach’s face twisted as Glynda peeked inside. “…Olives.”

Glynda blinked. “You managed to grow olives in the greenhouse?”

“Oh yeah. Don’t ask me how—I swear it was an accident, I was actually trying to fail at it. I don’t even like olives. Mind you, I actually hate olives. I think the little, like, orange clitoris thing is really freaky.”

Glynda snorted and covered her mouth, trying to hide her laugh. “Then why grow them at all?”

“Port, the absolute twat, loves olives on his pizza. Won’t shut up about it.” Peach rolled her eyes. “It’s like—your whole identity is built on stories about you beating an Alpha Beowolf with a rusty pipe or something like that. Surely you can quest for your own bloody olives? But now they’re growing next to my poor innocent squash.”

Glynda gasped dramatically, hand to her chest. “The scandal.”

“Right?!” Peach nearly shouted. “Anyway, figured I’d give you something and welcome you to Beacon. I tried to gather the courage to talk to you when you were here for your teacher training a couple times, but gods, you are just so effortlessly graceful and pretty, and I remember telling Mombi ‘That Glynda is an intimidating, very tall woman,’ and how ‘the minute she locked eyes with me, I started sweating.’ I mean, what are you, 6'5''?”

Glynda scoffed, slightly blushing from the compliments. “6’5’’? Where did you—no, gods no. I’m 5’10’’. Six feet in heels. 6’5’’… absolutely not. Though Tai would love that, probably. The first time he saw me in workout clothes, his face—”

“Oh right, you’re married!” Peach perked up instantly. “Show me! Is he handsome? Is he hot? Is he really hot?”

Blushing, Glynda pulled out her scroll and showed a picture of her and Tai at the beach.

Peach’s jaw dropped. “Breaker above—that man is hot. I’m jealous. Are you open to sharing?”

“Oi. Hands off.” Glynda pushed her glasses up, but couldn’t hide a smile. Despite how… rough Peach seemed to be, Glynda found herself quite amused with the way she carried herself. It was a breath of fresh air from the stiffness that came from being a teacher.

“Fine, fine…” Peach sighed dramatically. “Gods, I can’t believe I wasn’t there! Now I wish I talked to you earlier, even before you started teaching. When we were students, I mean. You know I was a grade under you? Always looked up to you, in every way. Gods, you were terrifying back then.”

Glynda chuckled. “Well… I’d like to think I still am.”

“Well… not according to Ruby, you’re not.”

Glynda froze. Slowly, she turned her glare on Peach. Peach remained unfazed and smiling. “What was that?”

“You should’ve heard the students in the hall—‘the terrifying, extremely sexy new teacher is actually a big softie around her kids.’ By now, everyone knows about her calling you during your first lesson.”

Glynda stared. “They… Do they really call me that? Out loud? They are aware I’m at least twenty-five years older than them, right?”

“Oh yes!” Peach nodded. “Have you seen the way you dress? That boob window isn’t helping.”

“Thumbelina!” Glynda squeaked, instinctively covering her chest with her hands.

“I’m serious! It’s like…”

Peach trailed off, eyes narrowing in thought — and before Glynda could ask, Peach suddenly shrunk right in front of her. In a blink she was small enough to hop up onto the table, then sprang lightly onto the brim of Glynda’s glasses.

She planted one hand above her eyes like a sailor scanning the horizon, and looked straight down, her legs dangling in front of one of Glynda’s eyes. “It’s like I’m surveying a canyon down there. You ever realize that?”

Glynda scowled. Using two fingers, she plucked the tiny, grinning Peach off her glasses and set her back into her chair. The moment her feet touched the seat, Peach grew back to full size.

“Don’t do that again,” Glynda muttered. “And for the record, I wear these clothes because I like these clothes, and don’t plan to stop. I can’t do anything about… hormonal teenagers!”

Peach waved that off. “Yes yes, I know, I know. Your clothes are fine. Not your fault you’re so effortlessly pretty at your age.”

Glynda shook her head and cleared her throat. “You really don’t have a filter, do you?”

Peach grinned. “Oh, in class I do! I’m the ‘kindly cute lady who would probably wait for her grandkids at home with cookies in the oven.’ I don’t even have kids. Gods, have I mentioned how jealous I am of you? I hate you so much.”

Glynda burst into loud, unrestrained laughter. Peach giggled beside her.

“Oh gods… I’m guessing there are a few eggplants mixed in with the veggies?”

“Oh absolutely,” Peach smirked. “Though I doubt any of them size up to your husband after seeing him.”

Glynda swatted her shoulder, shaking her head. “Thank you, Pea—”

“Thumby,” Peach corrected. “Friends call me Thumby.”

Glynda paused, then smiled warmly. “Thank you, Thumby. I’m sure the girls will enjoy this.”

“Please. Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t. I’ve been trying to get rid of those bloody olives for years. And I highly doubt Port has the balls to complain that Professor Goodwitch took them.”

Glynda laughed again, shoulders shaking.

Glynda Goodwitch does love her olives, after all.

2 Years After the Wedding (Yang is 11, Ruby is 9)

April

“Yang did WHAT?!”

Glynda’s voice cracked through the house like a thunderclap. Yang stood frozen beneath her, shoulders tucked in, looking at least somewhat ashamed — which was the only thing saving her right now.

On the scroll, Isabel’s furious shouting continued to spill through the speaker until Glynda managed to drown it out with a rapid string of apologies and finally hung up. She turned slowly back to Yang.

“When I agreed to train you and your sister,” Glynda began, each word measured and dangerously calm, “this is not what I meant for you to use it for.”

Yang swallowed, jaw tightening. She folded her arms and scowled. “It was just some self-defense stuff. It’s not a big deal! And I needed a training partner in Radian—”

Glynda pulled off her glasses, pressing her thumb to the space between her brows and sighed. “If you needed a partner, Nick would’ve been more than happy to help.”

She put her glasses back on and glared again, making Yang flinch under her gaze. “What you don’t do is go to Jaune to unlock his Aura! What kind of ‘self-defense’ requires his Aura being unlocked?”

Yang’s voice shrank and she stared down at her boots. “…the kind a Huntress can’t use on someone without it?” she mumbled.

“YANG!”

“I said I’m sorry, okay?!” she burst out, hands thrown up in frustration. Then, she instantly deflated. “It’s just… he asked. And I… I just couldn’t say no.”

Her arms dropped. Voice lowering, her shoulders curled inward and she hugged herself. “We… made a promise,” she whispered, voice trembling just barely.

Glynda’s anger faltered. Not gone… but tempered, just enough for concern to slip through. She knew that look—this was deeper for her than just a request.

“Yang…” she said more softly, but the disappointment still sat heavy between them.

“I know,” Yang murmured. “I messed up.”

“You did.” Glynda slipped her glasses back on, her expression composed but tired. “And Isabel is livid with you, by the way.”

Yang winced, color draining from her face. “...I’m sorry.”

Glynda held out the scroll.

“It’s not me you need to apologize to.”

Yang took the scroll with both hands, as if it might break if she wasn’t careful.

“... Can you tell me about Raven no–”

“No.”

“…”

3 Years After the Wedding (Yang is 12, Ruby is 9)

August

“DAAAAAAAD!”

Yang’s scream echoed from upstairs, sharp with panic.

Tai froze mid-stir at the stove. “Is something wrong?” he called out.

Before an answer could reach him, Ruby appeared in a scatter of rose petals, eyes huge and alarmed.

“Yang’s bleeding!”

“WHAT?! Yang, honey, I’m coming!”

He bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time…

…only to return moments later, walking much slower, face pale and slightly shell-shocked.

Glynda looked up from the table, brow raised. “Well?”

Tai swallowed hard and eased into the chair beside her. “You, uh… might want to handle this one yourself.”

It took only a second before realization dawned on her. Glynda sighed softly, stood, and leaned in to press a brief kiss to his cheek.

“Coward,” she murmured fondly, before heading upstairs.

When she returned, dinner was—miraculously—finished. Tai, however, still looked rattled, staring at nothing with the shell-shocked reverence of a man who had glimpsed the abyss.

He turned to her slowly.

“Have I mentioned,” he said, voice faint and sincere, “how much I love you?”

Glynda slipped back into her seat, a small knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“Not nearly enough.”

4 Years After the Wedding (Yang is 13, Ruby is 10)

March

“I can’t believe it. My little girl’s first day at Signal Academy!” Glynda announced proudly, snapping a picture with her scroll as Ruby stood beside her, smirking.

Yang groaned, leaning away from the hand Tai had planted on her shoulder while Glynda kept circling for more photos. “Moooom… stop… I’m not your little girl anymore…”

Glynda paused mid-shot, laughing, and Tai ruffled Yang’s hair with a grin. “Oh, honey — you’ll always be our little girl.”

Yang’s face went scarlet. She muttered something unintelligible and immediately tried to fix the destruction her dad’s hand had caused, smoothing her hair with frantic sweeps.

Ruby giggled, pointing at her sister — right up until Yang snapped around, eyes flaring red.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing! You’re gonna go through this too soon!”

“Erk!” Ruby froze mid-laugh, realization crashing in. “N-nuh uh! I’m too fast!”

Glynda laughed again, unable to help herself. She leaned in, gave Tai a quick kiss, then kissed Yang on the cheek. Yang recoiled instantly, groaning as she wiped the spot with her sleeve before spinning around and marching toward the school gates. Tai hurried after her with an apologetic look over his shoulder.

“Call us, okay? We’ll see you later!” Glynda called, waving after them.

Then she turned to Ruby, her expression softening. “School doesn’t start for you until next week, right? Want to come with me to Beacon again? Kaya and the others miss you.”

Ruby nodded so quickly her hood nearly slipped off.

5 Years After the Wedding (Yang is 14, Ruby is 12)

November

The house was quiet. The appliances drifted from room to room, straightening cushions and folding blankets as she worked through the stack of Beacon paperwork she’d brought home. Yang was upstairs doing homework, and Tai and Ruby had wandered off to buy the Signed Box Edition of Professor Paradox. Glynda would never understand their obsession with the show — something she and Yang agreed on.

Glynda paused mid-signature, clicking her tongue. “He’s not even cute anymore,” she muttered. 

Then she froze.

A sound threaded faintly through the quiet. Not loud, but unmistakable.

“Was that… crying?”

Her pen hit the table with a clatter as she stood. Instinctively, she nearly ran up the stairs, straight towards the source of the noise.

At the end of the hall, Yang’s door sat slightly ajar.

“Yang?” Glynda called gently, easing the door open. “Is everything alright?”

Yang didn’t answer. She was curled tightly on her bed, shoulders shaking, her face buried in her knees, sobbing.

“Can I come in?” Glynda asked. Yang gave her a tiny nod, and she slipped carefully inside the room. She sat beside her daughter, the mattress dipping slightly.

“What happened?” Glynda asked softly. 

Yang lifted her head — eyes red, face blotchy, breath hitching. “Jaune and Katy… they—” The rest of the sentence dissolved into another sob, her voice cracking.

“Oh, honey…” Glynda gathered her close immediately, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other wrapped around her trembling shoulders. Yang melted into her, clutching at her shirt, resting her head underneath Glynda’s chin.

“I-I hate her…” Yang choked out.

Glynda kissed the top of her head. “No… no, you don’t.”

For a moment, all that filled the room was the fragile rhythm of sobs. Then Yang gave a small, defeated nod.

She didn’t hate Katy. Not really. After Jaune, Katy had been her best friend. Both had their sights set on the same boy; Katy had just had the courage to reach out first.

Glynda smoothed a hand through her hair. “One day,” she whispered, “you’ll find someone. A kind boy… or girl, if that’s your preference. Either is fine! But… someone who’s just as… blonde… and wonderfully dense as him.”

Yang gave a watery giggle.

Glynda smiled. “And they’ll make you happier than Jaune ever could.”

Yang sniffed and leaned against her. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Of course, Yang.” Glynda wrapped her a little tighter, holding her like she used to… before Yang decided she wasn’t her ‘little girl’ anymore.

“We’re home!” Tai called as he stepped inside, a large cardboard box with small holes on its sides, balanced in his arms. Ruby dashed in next to him, grinning.

Setting the pot of beef curry onto the dinner table, Glynda turned to them and lifted an eyebrow. “You were out longer than I expected. What took so long?”

Sitting next to her, Yang turned to the door and sniffled into the sleeve of her sweater, shoulders hunched. “H-Hey, guys.”

Ruby’s grin instantly dropped. Her eyes widened.

“Yang!” In a burst of rose petals she zipped across the room, arms wrapped around her sister. “Are you okay? What happened?!”

Yang leaned into the hug, pressing a quick kiss to Ruby’s hair. “I’m okay, Rubes. I’ll tell you later.”

Tai met Glynda’s gaze over the girls’ heads, a silent exchange. ‘What do I do?’

Shaking her head, Glynda mouthed ‘Girl problems.’

Ah. Tai nodded in understanding. “Well… then maybe this will help a little.”

Yang groaned. “Dad, I already told you I don’t like Professor Paradox anymor—”

Woof!

All four of them froze.

Glynda’s eyes snapped to the box. “Did that box just—? Taiyang Xiao-Long, really?”

Instantly, Ruby appeared at Glynda’s side, already begging for forgiveness. “Mom, please don’t be mad! It was my idea! I found him!”

But Yang heard none of it. She’d already knelt down and lifted the flap of the box.

Inside sat a tiny corgi, black-backed with a white belly, tail wagging at jet-engine RPM. The puppy looked up at her with bright eyes and—

“Woof!”

A big, wet lick landed square across Yang’s face.

Tai watched it all happen with a fond smile, but Glynda looked down at Ruby, folding her arms. “What do you mean ‘found’?”

Ruby twisted her foot against the floor, making herself small. “Dad and I were just going to the comic store—really! But on the way, we saw this box on the side of the road… and he was in it!” She held her hands out helplessly. “We couldn’t just leave him there…”

Glynda’s expression softened but remained firm. “I understand. But Ruby, your dad and I have jobs that take us away often, and you have school. Taking care of a pet is—”

“I already thought of that,” Tai interjected quickly, stepping closer. “Signal and Beacon both allow staff—and certain students with medical needs—to bring pets on campus… as long as they have their aura unlocked.”

He watched his wife connect the dots in her head. When realization dawned, Glynda stared at him, eyes wide. “…No.”

Tai nodded grimly. “Yep. Little guy already had his unlocked when we found him.”

Glynda slapped a hand to her forehead. “Who abandons an aura-unlocked puppy on the side of the road?!”

Tai only gave a helpless shrug.

Ruby tugged gently at Glynda’s sleeve, looking up with the biggest, shiniest puppy eyes Glynda had ever—and would ever—see. Fittingly, the actual puppy yipped in approval from the floor.

“Please, Mom?” Ruby whispered.

But before Glynda could answer, a burst of laughter filled the room.

“Stop—stop it, that tickles!”

All eyes turned.

Yang was sprawled on the floorboards, sweater rumpled, laughing uncontrollably as the corgi enthusiastically assaulted her face with licks.

“Cut it out!” she wheezed between giggles—making absolutely no effort to escape.

“Woof!” the puppy declared victoriously.

Ruby and Tai both turned back to Glynda with synchronized pleading expressions.

Glynda inhaled, exhaled, then pointed a warning finger at all three of them. “…Fine.”

Ruby gasped.

“But—!” Glynda held up her hand. “He goes to the vet first thing in the morning.”

She barely had time to brace herself before Ruby launched into her arms in a burst of joy. “YES! Thank you, Mom! You’re the best!”

Glynda stumbled, laughing as she hugged her back. “I know… I know…”

“What are we gonna call him?” Tai asked from the now-cleared dinner table, chin propped on one hand as he watched Ruby and Yang roll around on the carpet with the corgi.

Glynda sat beside him with a sigh that was far too fond. “You’re asking me? You brought him home.”

“Fair enough,” Tai admitted, tapping his chin in exaggerated contemplation. “How about… Rex?”

Glynda snorted. “Rex? Tai, he’s a puppy, not a stuffed dinosaur.”

“He could be,” Tai insisted, pointing at the corgi. The dog perked up, tail wagging so hard his whole body wiggled. Glynda fought a smile—but stayed firm.

“We’re not naming him Rex, Tai.”

Tai raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, so now it’s a we?”

Glynda chose not to dignify that with a response. “Skipper.”

He blinked. “…Skipper? Like the penguin from that movie we watched last week? Because of the black-and-white fur?”

Glynda gave a tiny, embarrassed shrug. “He was the only one whose name I remembered.”

Tai gasped dramatically. “You mean to tell me you forgot Agents Kowalski, Rico, and Private? Glynda Goodwitch-Xiao-Long, where is the woman I married?”

She laughed and swatted his shoulder. “Oh, stop—”

“How about Zwei?”

Both parents turned. Yang stood a few steps away, smiling down at the puppy.

“It means ‘two’ in Atlesian,” she explained. “And… well, he’s got two colors. So it kinda fits.”

Tai tilted his head, considering. “…Zwei, huh?”

As if on cue, the corgi barked brightly and flipped onto his back.

“You like that name?” Ruby asked, rubbing his stomach. “You like ‘Zwei’?”

“Woof!” he declared, kicking one little paw in the air.

Glynda and Tai exchanged a look. Small smiles bloomed on both their faces.

“Zwei it is.”

6 Years After the Wedding (Yang is 14, Ruby is 12)

January 

“You know, Yang,” Glynda said from the front seat of the truck they’d bought specifically for easier trips to and from the Bullhead station, looking up at the rearview mirror. “Just because you’re allowed to use the Beacon gyms when you visit doesn’t mean you need to prove you can beat every first-year who thinks you’re too young to be there.”

Yang smirked from the back row, feet propped beside a happily panting Zwei. “That’s only because the second-years and up know better. If they didn’t, I wouldn’t stop at the first-years. Besides, Soyeon and her team aren’t around anymore, and I need a challenge. Gods, I miss them…”

Zwei barked as if offering condolences.

Glynda shook her head—but there was no hiding her smile. “Is that right…?”

Seeing Yang or Ruby wandering Beacon’s halls had become so common that most students didn’t even blink anymore. Being the daughter of the Combat Instructor—and, recently, the Deputy Headmistress—came with certain privileges, ones that the girls took full advantage of.

Yang had already built a reputation for herself as one of the most promising up-and-coming Huntresses in Vale. Even as a second-year Signal student, she was rumored to be second only to the Invincible Girl from Mistral. Anyone watching her fight could tell she was a natural—a prodigy destined for Beacon.

Ruby, meanwhile, was almost always spotted trailing after her mother with a notebook clutched close, scribbling down everything from combat theory to team dynamics. Some students whispered that she took more notes than they did.

One student even approached Ruby after class (She remembered the girl’s tan skin and beauty mark on her cheek, though never her name. ‘Ooh, maybe I can find her next time and ask her?’)

“Why do you pay so much attention in class when you’re not even a student?” the girl asked.

Ruby’s eyes lit up. “Well, at home, Mom doesn’t really teach me this stuff yet, the leader stuff I mean. Mostly it’s just, fighting, you know? Like ‘practice throwing a punch,’ and I’m still really, really bad at that. The punch part. I’m really good at fighting though! A-And when it’s not that, it’s just her kicking my butt in Super Strike Bros. I’m not even bad at that game, she’s just that good!”

The student blinked. “Um…”

“Oh! Sorry! Here she’s like a completely different person. So professional, you know? I just… want to see what being a professional Huntress is like firsthand! And if I want to prove myself as a Huntress, I’ll take every advantage I can get. A headstart is one of them. Ooh, my mom’s calling me, bye!”

“…Okay?” the girl muttered to no one.

And then there were the training sessions.

One evening, a team of Beacon second-years strolled into the practice range expecting to find it empty. Instead, they walked in on a twelve-year-old girl swinging a scythe twice her size with casual ease—right before getting flung across the room by her mother’s semblance.

Ruby squeaked as she slid down the wall. “Ow…”

But she pushed herself upright, brushing dust off her sweater, like this was normal. “I should add a mecha-shift option. Like Uncle Qrow’s! But his is just another sword. I need range…”

She kept muttering ideas as she and Glynda packed up for the night.

When the door finally swung shut behind them, the second-years stood frozen, turning to each other with fearful gazes.

Both of those girls were monsters.

“…Like seriously, how many times do I have to tell him I’m not interested in his stories? They’re so boring…” Yang drawled, dragging each syllable and throwing her head back with a groan.

Glynda laughed as she shut the car door. “Peter’s lessons are certainly… unconventional. But he is a teacher for a reason.”

Yang fell into step beside her, brows raised. “Yeah, because Old-Man Oz couldn’t find anyone else before he fell asleep listening to him.”

Glynda’s chuckled, small but amused. “I’m just saying you might learn something if you listened closely once in a while.”

Yang scoffed and rolled her eyes while Glynda fumbled with the house keys. “Right…”

Before Glynda could respond, Zwei stiffened. A low growl rumbled through his chest as he stared into the treeline.

Yang dropped to a knee. “What is it, boy?”

Glynda followed his gaze. The woods were ordinary enough; wind-swayed branches, a few birds picking at leaves, nothing out of place. 

“Maybe he needs to go to the bathroom,” she said, though her tone betrayed no real conviction. “Yang, could you go inside and take the dinner prep out of the fridge? We’ll start when I get back.”

Yang blinked at her. “I can take him myself, you know. Last time I touched anything in the kitchen that required actual effort, I almost set the house on fir—”

“Please, Yang.”

The subtle edge in Glynda’s voice made Yang pause. She nodded, reluctantly, and headed inside. Glynda set her things down and gave Zwei a small gesture, walking into the woods.

The corgi trotted forward, sniffing, then marched up to a tree and lifted his leg.

“Good boy,” Glynda murmured. Zwei barked once, proudly.

They turned to head back—

Spinning around in a blur, Glynda’s crop cracked through the air. Her semblance grasped the largest bird perched in the branches, cawing at being caught off guard. Feathers exploded outward as she slammed it into the ground hard enough to leave an indent.

The remaining flock scattered instantly, their caws cutting through the forest hush.

Glynda’s voice dropped several degrees colder.

“Qrow and Ozpin told me you’ve been snooping around here,” she said, stepping closer. “You’ve gotten sloppy, Raven. You should never have let me get this close.”

The bound raven writhed, but Glynda effortlessly tightened her telekinetic hold.

“Change back. Now.” Her eyes narrowed, voice low and as sharp as a blade. “Before I snap your wings and pluck every feather at the exact same time. And you know I can.”

The raven shimmered, feathers giving way to flesh. In its place, lying with her stomach on the ground, her face being pushed down into the ground, was a dark-haired woman with piercing red eyes. An almost perfect mirror of Yang.

“I almost forgot… how much of a bitch you really are, Goodwitch,” Raven rasped. Her limbs trembled in Glynda’s telekinetic grip—right up until her wrist twisted with a sharp, ugly crack.

Glynda didn’t even blink. “It’s Goodwitch–Xiao-Long now,” she said, with a voice so sharp, it was a wonder Raven wasn’t in a million pieces. “Has been for years. But you already knew that—you were there.”

“Mazeltov,” Raven sneered. “Now let me go.”

“Why?” Glynda asked, ignoring her and lifting her higher until their eyes locked. “Why come back? You’re not wanted here.”

“Hah!” Raven barked a laugh—short, bitter. “Shows what you know. At first, I just came to watch my pathetic husband need someone else to get him out of bed. Gods, he’s so hopeless alone, isn’t h—”

Her shoulder snapped at an impossible angle. Raven sucked in air through clenched teeth, but refused to scream.

“Funny,” Glynda said coolly. “You wouldn’t think he was pathetic if you crashed the wedding. He’s far from that man now, your sorry definition of ‘pathetic’. But then again—you already knew that. I’d wager you were even watching him on our wedding night.”

Raven’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing.

Glynda stepped closer, heels silent on the forest floor. “I have a theory,” she continued. “You’re jealous.”

Raven’s eye twitched—but the rest of her face stayed stone.

“Jealous that you were too weak to love someone, to love Tai for who he really is. Jealous that we stayed and you ran. Jealous that you threw everything away and now have nothing left but regret. And every night, when you cry yourself to sleep, alone in your miserable little tent, or whatever it is you bandits live in, I think it kills you deep inside, knowing that someone else is living the life you almost had. All because you were too much of a coward to be an adult.”

A flicker—barely there—of pain crossed Raven’s features.

Glynda savored it.

“YOU FUCKING BI—”

Crack! 

Raven’s body whipped through the clearing and slammed face-first into a boulder with enough force to form a crack.

Glynda tilted her head, her hands still folded in front of her. Her tone was deceptively calm, but her eyes? You could see the flames of hell burn brightly in them. “Ooh. That looked like it hurt. I do hope your aura was up.”

Raven raised her head slowly, spitting blood out of her mouth. “He made me weak,” she panted. “Yang made me weak—”

Slam.

The boulder fractured under the second impact, the rock splitting in two.

Glynda’s voice dropped to a venom-laced whisper. “Yang was your daughter. A daughter you abandoned the second she learned how to walk.” She tightened her grip around the Disciplinarian, feeling it spark a bit. “You don’t get to say her name. Not anymore.”

Suddenly, she released the telekinetic hold and threw her to the side. Raven collapsed, coughing violently, one arm hanging limp.

Glynda stepped in, crouching just enough that her shadow fell over Raven’s broken form, grabbing her hair and pulling her head up high enough to look into her eyes.

“Despite everything you’ve done—to Yang, to Tai, to this world—I am going to give you one warning. Just. One.”

Her words were quiet, and she leaned in to whisper into Raven’s ear.

“Stay away from my family.”

She dropped her head, turned her back on Raven and began walking. Zwei pressed close to her heel, still growling.

Then—soft, mocking laughter drifted across the clearing.

Glynda stopped. Slowly, she turned.

Raven was standing again, holding her broken arm and wrist in place while her aura flickered to heal her other cuts and bruises. She wiped blood from her mouth with the back of her hand.

“What’s so funny?” Glynda asked, voice razor-thin.

Raven smirked. “You think I came to spy on your little domestic fantasy?” She tilted her head. “Please. I’m not here for either of you.”

Glynda’s expression darkened. “If you so much as touch a hair on her head—”

“I’m not here to hurt her, Goodwitch.” Raven spat the name like poison. “Word is my little firecracker’s already quite the fighter. Almost on par with that so-called Invincible Girl.”

Glynda froze where she stood.

“We could use that strength in the tribe,” Raven continued, grinning.

“How dare you.”

Raven no longer in her reach, Glynda hurled everything she could lift nearby—a fallen tree trunk, shattered branches, even the twin cracked boulders still stained with Raven’s blood—straight at her.

“How dare I? She’s my daughter!” Raven barked, slipping between the barrage with an array of flips and twists. “But in the end, it’s her decision, isn’t it?”

She glanced to the side—and her grin sharpened.

“Wouldn’t you agree… Yang?”

Glynda’s heart stopped.

She turned.

Yang stood at the edge of the clearing, frozen mid-step. Eyes wide. Trembling.

“Yang, you need to leave. Now.” Glynda’s voice cracked with fear.

But Yang didn’t move. Her gaze flicked between them—between her mother, and the woman who looked so much like her.

“Mom… what’s going on?” she asked, voice small. Glynda couldn’t tell who she was asking.

“You have a choice to make!” Raven shouted as a swirling red portal tore open beside her, painting the trees with bloody light. “Stay with Goodbitch here and I’ll close this portal forever—you’ll never see me again.” 

She stepped one foot through, eyes glittering, grinning maniacally.

“Or come with me. Learn real strength. Get the answers you’ve been craving.”

For a brief, impossible heartbeat, her expression softened—hopeful, almost vulnerable—before she snuffed it out behind her usual smirk.

“Five seconds, Yang. Choose wisely.”

She shot Glynda a venomous look.

“It wasn’t a pleasure, Third Placer. Be seeing you…”

When she stepped through completely, the portal began to shrink.

5

“Yang, please—don’t—” Glynda reached for her.

4

But Yang was already running, sprinting with everything she had, eyes burning red.

3

“Get OUT OF MY WAY, MOM!” she screamed, shoving past her.

2

Zwei barked desperately, chasing after her.

1

Yang leapt, fingers stretching toward the closing portal—

0

—and an invisible force seized her midair.

With a violent snap, Glynda’s telekinesis yanked her daughter backward, throwing her into the dirt as the portal winked out.

Silence.

Yang stared up at her mother, betrayal carved across her face like a fresh wound.

Glynda stared back, horror and heartbreak warring in her eyes.

Zwei stood between them, tail low, trembling.

The only sound was the distant cawing of ravens.

“Yang, please!”

Yang didn’t stop. She shoved the door open so hard it rebounded off the wall, and hit the woman behind her square in the face as it swung shut again.

“Please, just let me explain—” her mot— Goodwitch pressed on, unfazed by the impact. She reached out, voice trembling. “Yang, honey—”

Yang ignored her, marching up the stairs two at a time. Her breath hitched, hot and sharp, as she tore open her bedroom closet and yanked a duffel bag down.

A hand settled gently on her shoulder.

“Yang, please, we can talk—”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” she screamed, ripping away from her without turning around, the force of it sending Glynda a step backward.

“Yang, please!” Glynda’s voice broke. She was crying now—but Yang didn’t care.

She was crying too.

Red eyes burning, she snatched her wallet, stuffed it into the bag, yanked the zipper shut, and pushed past the woman behind her.

Down the stairs. Through the hall. The front door slammed so violently the frame rattled.

“Yang, wait!” Glynda’s voice echoed after her, desperate. “Please!”

Zwei skidded out of the house, barking and whining, chasing after her as she marched down the driveway into the fading evening light.

Yang stopped suddenly, turning on her heel.

The hope on Glynda’s expression shattered the moment she saw Yang’s face—tear-streaked, furious, heartbroken.

“For the first time in my entire life… I saw my mother—right in front of me!” Yang screamed, chest heaving. “I was so close to finally getting the answers I’ve always wanted! And then YOU! You kept me away from her! From my actual mom!”

Glynda took a shaky breath, trying to steady her voice. “Yang, please, you don’t understand—”

“OF COURSE I DON’T UNDERSTAND!” Yang shot back, voice cracking. “Because NONE of you ever tell me anything about her!”

She tried to inhale but choked on it, wiping at her tears with her sleeve. 

“I asked. I pleaded. I begged you.” Her voice broke into ugly, painful pieces. “I begged ALL OF YOU. So. Fucking. Much. To tell me anything. But I was never ready. I wasn’t old enough. I wasn’t calm enough. It was never FUCKING enough! Either I wasn’t ready, o-or Dad wasn’t, or the time wasn’t right.” She wiped snot from her lip with the back of her hand. “Not even Nick or Izzy would tell me anything!”

Her throat tightened. She kept going anyway.

“So when the one person—the only person—who would’ve told me something, ANYTHING, finally appeared…?”

Yang paused, dragging in a breath that hitched on a wet sniff. Then the fury surged again.

“I was just done—so FUCKING done—with the excuses,” she choked out. “I could’ve finally learned why she abandoned me—but NO! After everything you said, everything you promised—dangling answers in front of me my whole life just to yank them away—you do it again! LITERALLY this time!”

“Yang, please, believe me, she isn’t—”

“SHE ISN’T WHAT?!” Yang’s voice cracked. “HUH?! MY MOM?! Are you really gonna stand there and tell me that’s what you are?!”

She wiped her face with the back of her hand, breath shuddering.

“Is that what a mother does? Make promises and break them every chance they get? Because I remember Summer! I remember what a mom is like—and it isn’t that.”

She stabbed a finger at Glynda, eyes blazing. “And it sure as hell… isn’t. YOU!”

Glynda’s sob tore out of her like something broken loose. Her legs trembled beneath her—she nearly hit the ground right there.

But Yang wasn’t finished. In her rage, her clouded judgment, she clenched her teeth and hissed out one last thing.

“Fuck. you.”

This time, Glynda’s knees fully buckled. She collapsed onto the gravel drive way, hands flying to her mouth, whole body shaking. Zwei scrambled into her lap, yelping, pawing at her as if he could hold her together.

Yang froze.

Her eyes flickered lilac—wide, horrified—as the weight of what she’d said crashed over her. For one fragile heartbeat, all the anger melted. She almost ran back. Almost reached for her. Almost—

But the rage surged up again, hot and blinding, swallowing the guilt whole.

Her irises snapped red once more.

Her hair blazed gold.

And she turned away.

“I’m going to Jaune’s!” she shouted, voice breaking as she marched off. “I’ve got enough for a ticket. Don’t try to stop me!”

Zwei barked frantically, whining for her to come back—but he wouldn’t leave Glynda’s side.

And Glynda… 

Glynda didn’t move at all.

“Signal’s pretty cool, right, Rubes?” Tai asked, nudging his daughter as they walked home, having taken her to see her future Academy.

Ruby tapped a finger to her cheek, exaggeratedly thoughtful. “Hmm… yeah, I guess so. But Beacon’s cooler.”

Tai laughed and clutched his heart dramatically. “Ouch! Just for that, when you start later this year, I’m taking points off all your homework.”

“Wha—?!” Ruby squeaked. “You can’t do that! That’s—that’s cheating!”

Tai laughed… but then the sound died abruptly. His smile slipped.

“Hey… do you hear that?”

Ruby tilted her head. A faint noise carried through the trees beside them—sharp, frantic.

A bark.

Her eyes widened. She knew that bark.

“Ruby, wait—!” Tai reached out, but Ruby was already gone, petals scattering in her wake as she raced down the gravel path.

She burst into their driveway—and nearly tripped.

“Zwei?!”

The corgi was digging, whining, circling frantically as soon as he saw her. Dirt smeared his paws as he barked at her, high-pitched and distressed.

“Zwei, what’s wrong?! What happened?!”

He barked once urgently, and bolted inside the house. Ruby followed, heart hammering against her ribs.

The moment she stepped into the dining room, she froze.

“Wha—Mom?!”

Glynda Goodwitch–Xiao-Long was seated at the far end of the dining table, back hunched, shoulders shuddering with each broken breath. Her hands covered her face. The soft, ragged sounds of her sobs filled the room. Zwei pressed himself against her legs, whining helplessly.

Ruby rushed to her, grabbing her arm. “Mom—Mom, talk to me! What happened?!”

Glynda didn’t respond—just cried harder.

Then it hit Ruby. A sick, cold realization that made her stomach twist.

“…Mom,” she whispered, voice trembling, “where’s Yang?”

That question broke whatever fragile composure Glynda had left. Her sobs turned heavier, shaking her whole body.

“Ruby! What’s going on?!” Tai’s voice shouted from the doorway. He came barreling in, panting, eyes darting between them. “Why are your mother’s things still outside? Honey—honey, what happened?!”

He dropped to his knees beside her, hands hovering uselessly before pulling her in close. Zwei kept nudging his snout against them, whining.

Ruby stood rooted to the floor, breath trapped in her lungs, dread rising like a tide.

At last, Glynda lifted her face.

Her makeup streaked down her cheeks. Her eyes were red and swollen.

“I messed up, Tai…” she whispered hoarsely. “I messed up really badly.”

Chapter Text

“Okay… got it, Tai. Don’t worry — we’ll take care of her,” Nick said, thumb hesitating for a beat before he finally hung up the scroll.

He returned to the dining room, where his family still sat around the table. The loud and chaotic chattering cut off the moment he walked in. A hush settled over the room, heavy enough that even the youngest kids stilled.

Isabel’s eyes locked onto his expression instantly. “Nick? Is everything okay?”

“Yang’s coming to stay with us for a few days… maybe longer,” he said as he sat. The weight in his voice removed any remaining easiness anyone was feeling.

Jaune blinked, his shoulders tightening in concern as he slowly put down his fork. “Yang is? Did something happen?”

Nick nodded once. “Raven showed up at their front door, apparently.”

The shift in the room was immediate, the air turning cold as if the warmth in the lights was snuffed out. Isabel gasped, hand flying to her mouth. Jaune whispered a sharp, “...Crap…” before the chair scraped back behind him. He bolted upstairs to grab his scroll, leaving his plate still steaming on the table. Neither parent even considered stopping him.

“Is she… are they okay?” Isabel asked, voice thin.

Nick shook his head slowly. “Physically, they’re fine. Emotionally… that’s another story.”

Verdy and Coral exchanged a look, eyes wide.

“Mom?”

“Dad?”

“Who’s Raven?”

The name alone darkened the air again. Isabel kept facing Nick, jaw tensing. “Yang’s eggdonor.”

Tangy scoffed, stabbing hard at her dinner. “Oh, right… her. The bitch we’re not supposed to talk about.”

“Tangy!” Lilac snapped — but she blinked when Isabel raised a hand, stopping her cold.

“For her, ‘bitch’ is too light a word,” Isabel said, voice low, the kind of low that carried years of restrained fury… and regret. “Nick, what happened? Why is Yang coming here?”

Nick let out a long, weary breath and set his utensils aside. “Apparently Raven came to take Yang back to the tribe. Glynda tried to keep them apart, but Yang found out. When she chased after Raven for answers, Glynda pulled her back.”

“Oh no…” Isabel paled, the dots connecting in her head.

Nick nodded grimly. “Yeah. Yang was furious. She grabbed her things and ran off. When Glynda tried to stop her, Yang… said some things. Things she probably didn’t mean. Glynda wouldn’t say what, though. Could barely get through a few words over the scroll before Tai had to take over.”

Isabel leaned back in her chair, rubbing both hands over her face. The muffled thump-thump-thump of footsteps upstairs made her glance at Jaune’s empty seat. He was still pacing, still trying… and failing… to get his scroll to connect to Yang’s signal.

Nick continued, quieter now. “Tai and Ruby came home to Zwei barking for help. He led them to Glynda — she was alone, and Yang was gone. Apparently Yang made it clear where she was headed before she walked out. That was a couple hours ago, so… she should be here soon.”

Every Arc child exchanged a look — a silent conversation bouncing between them. “But… she’s okay, right?” Verdy asked, voice small, all her usual spark of mischief gone.

When neither parent answered, Verdy’s shoulders sank. She nudged her food around her plate, then finally pushed it away like the appetite had drained right out of her.

Nick frowned and turned back toward Isabel. “Izzy, I know this is sudden, and I know you want Jaune focused on his studies, but—”

“Yang is family,” Isabel cut in, her voice firm in a way that left no room for argument. “She can stay as long as she needs or wants. Girls — while Yang is here, we give her our full support. We’ll do everything we can to make her feel at home. Isn’t that right, everyone?”

The girls nodded, solemn now.

Isabel stood, planting her hands on the table, commanding the room with ease.

“Good. Tangy, Yang should be here soon — heat up another bowl for her. Lilac, get the guest room ready. Orchid, you’re on twin duty. Make sure they don’t say anything they shouldn’t. But first, everyone finish dinner and help us clean up afterward.”

The cold rainwater seeped into her shoes as they sank deeper into the mud.

Ever since she ra— distanced herself from Patch, the rain hadn’t stopped. It felt like the heavens were crying with the family she’d left behind. Her new sneakers (pearly white when she’d held them up in the store towards her moth… towards Glynda with a bright, “Maybe they’d look good on me!”) were ruined beyond recognition. Her hair, normally perfectly groomed and pristine, hung in a damp, tangled curtain around her face and shoulders.

But Yang didn’t care.

She didn’t care about anything, really. Not right now.

The moment the airship touched down in Radian, her body had moved on autopilot, drifting forward like she was sleepwalking. Left foot, right foot. No pause. She’d tried using her Semblance at first, warming herself against the cold downpour of rain — but by the third or fourth crack of thunder, she gave up. What was the point?

Another wet squelch. Mud splattered up her legs, cold sludge streaking her shins, and still she barely felt it. Her mind was elsewhere — circling the words she’d spit at Goodwitch.

“Are you really gonna stand there and tell me that’s what you are?!”

Someone passing by must’ve recognized her, as a voice called her name. She didn’t lift her head. Didn’t slow. She kept her eyes glued to the muddy path, the world narrowing to the ground beneath her feet.

“It sure as hell… isn’t. YOU!”

A thunderclap shook the sky. The rain came down even harder, stinging now.

Yang still didn’t care.

“Fuck. you.”

She remembered the venom in her voice. The heat behind it. The way Glynda’s face collapsed at those words.

“...You’ll never see me again…”

Yang stopped walking.

Her head tilted back, rain sliding down her face. Her chest rose slowly, like she’d only just remembered to breathe.

“…Oh, that's right,” she whispered. “It’s raining, huh?”

The hardwood floor squeaked under his feet as he stomped another anxious lap around the living room.

Jaune couldn’t keep still. His fingers twitched at his sleeves, then his wrists, then back again. He circled the coffee table for what felt like the millionth time, while Katy watched from the couch, her expression tightening with worry as she lowered the scroll from her ear.

“Still nothing…” she whispered.

When Jaune had called her, words tumbling over each other, Katy hadn’t hesitated. She’d left her own half-eaten dinner, sprinted across town, and joined the Arcs in preparing for Yang’s arrival. Most of the family had already gone to bed, but the two of them stayed up in the front living room, waiting by the door.

They’d tried calling Yang over and over. Enough times that Jaune’s scroll had finally died in his hands. Every attempt went straight to voicemail.

“Try again. Please,” Jaune muttered, pacing even faster.

Katy let out a slow breath. “Jaune, she’s not going to pick up… Yang’s on her way here. Just… come sit with me for a second.” She reached out gently, guiding his arm toward the empty cushion beside her.

But Jaune’s shoulder stiffened, and he gently shook her off. His steps didn’t pause. “Please. Try again.” The words came out thinner this time, frayed at the edges.

Katy swallowed, worry deepening, but she redialed the number anyway. While it rang, she glanced toward the front window.

“It’s raining pretty hard…” she murmured.

Jaune didn’t answer. Didn’t even look her way. He just kept pacing, kept fidgeting, moving in restless circles while the storm hammered against the glass.

Katy sighed again. But when her gaze drifted back to the rain-blurred window, her eyes suddenly widened. She slowly lowered the scroll from her ear.

“Is that…?” she whispered.

She grabbed Jaune’s arm and shook it hard enough to break through his trance, then pointed out the window.

A faint silhouette stood motionless at the edge of the Arc Farm, half-swallowed by the downpour.

Jaune didn’t hesitate. He shoved his feet into his shoes, heel not even fully in, and yanked the door open so fast it slammed against the wall.

Yang stood a few meters away, drenched from head to toe. Her jacket clung to her like wet paper, and her blond hair hung in tangled ropes across her face, water dripping steadily from it into the mud. When she finally lowered her chin and looked toward him, her eyes were completely hidden behind the curtain of it.

Jaune rushed to her, hands coming up to her shoulders. He brushed the strands aside with trembling fingers.

One lilac eye stared back. Sunken and hollow, stripped of everything bright that used to live there. 

Katy gasped and covered her mouth, horrified at the doorway. Her friend, her best friend, someone who usually faced everything with an unshakable brightness and fortitude, who bulldozed through life with a grin and a joke…

This… all of this was just so… wrong.

Jaune and Yang stayed there for a moment, rain hammering down around them. She tried to speak—her lips parted, trembling—but nothing came.

So Jaune gently wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him.

That was all it took.

Yang collapsed against his chest with a choked, broken sob. Her arms wrapped around him like a lifeline, afraid of what would happen if she let go. The two of them sank to their knees in the mud, the storm drowning out the sound of her crying as she shook against him, clinging tight and refusing to let go.

When Yang’s eyes finally blinked open the next morning, the first thing she registered was warmth.

The second was confusion.

The ceiling was familiar, but not quite right. The clothes on her felt wrong too; soft, clean, and clearly too big for her. Her brain scrambled, trying to place the room.

Then everything from the day before slammed back into her chest.

A spark of white-hot anger shot through her veins—her eyes flashed red as Goodwitch’s voice, her mother’s smile, Goodwitch’s face surfaced—

—and just as quickly, the spark extinguished into something heavy and cold.

That last moment. Her face crumpling, collapsing to her knees in the driveway.

“Fuck. you.”

Feeling a hollow weight pressing down on her ribs, Yang got up and went through the motions, dressing herself in the folded clothes left at the foot of the bed, her words continuing to echo inside her mind. She left the guest room without a sound.

Down the hall, muffled clinks of silverware and soft words guided her toward the dining room. Despite how late it was in the morning already, everyone was still eating breakfast.

Yang stopped in the doorway.

Nobody noticed her at first. The Arc family sat scattered around the long table, chatting quietly. Katy sat near the end, chin propped on her hand. Across from her, Verdy kept trying to steal scrambled eggs from Orchid’s plate.

Yang just… stared.

Until Jaune looked up.

“Yang!” he called, smiling. “We waited for you… well kind of. Orchid got Hungry—”

“You did too,” Orchid muttered without looking up from her fork.

Jaune winced. “Yeah, okay, I got hungry too. But—hey—we saved you a seat.”

He gestured toward the empty chair between him and Katy.

Katy offered a small wave and an even smaller smile.

Wordlessly, Yang nodded and shuffled over to the empty chair. When she sat, Katy slipped an arm around her in a soft half-hug. Yang leaned into it without thinking.

The table went quiet. Nobody seemed to know what to say.

Eventually, Isabel exhaled and tried first.

“How are you, Yang?” she asked gently, offering a soft, hopeful smile.

Yang only lifted one shoulder in a shrug and stared down at her empty plate.

Isabel’s smile faltered. Nick glanced at her, equally unsure, both of them clearly debating whether to try again or leave her be.

Lilac tried next, offering some of the breakfast she made. “Would you like some egg—”

“How’s Zwei?”

Every head turned toward Orchid.

The girl didn’t even blink as she speared another forkful of eggs, staring at Yang with the same neutral expression she always wore.

But slowly, a faint spark flickered in Yang’s eyes. Her shoulders loosened and she straightened, playing with the ends of her sleeves of her borrowed shirt.

“Zwei is… he’s good… yeah…” she whispered. A tiny smile tugged at her lips before fading. Orchid gave a small, satisfied nod and returned to her breakfast.

Nick cleared his throat. “I, uh… still need to finish some things around the farm. Bit late for it, but the cows need moving into the other pen. Could use the help, if you’re up for it.” He offered her a small grin. “We’ll even get you a proper hat.”

Verdy and Coral snorted. Yang’s smile returned, a little wider. “Sure. I can help,” she said, a touch louder this time.

Nick nodded, relieved. “Here—some bread,” he said, handing over the basket.

Yang murmured a quiet thanks and began carefully spreading butter across a slice. She shrank a bit under the weight of every pair of eyes on her and lowered her gaze, scanning the table for—

“Beef?”

Yang blinked at the strip Jaune held in front of her. “Oh. Um… thanks…” She took it, grateful but sheepish. She reached for more ingredients—

“Lettuce?”

Another piece appeared. Yang stared at it, then at Jaune. “…y-yeah. I…” She accepted it, laying it across the bread.

She took a breath—starting to relax, starting to—

“Tomato?”

Her eyebrow twitched. “No thank you, Jaune.”

He nodded and set it down. Yang resumed assembling her sandwich, almost done—

“Cheese?”

Yang’s hands slammed onto the table, rattling the silverware.

“I can get it myself if I want it, Jaune!”

The room froze. Everyone stopped mid-bite to watch her carefully. Jaune stared back, wide-eyed. And just as quickly as the outburst came, the red drained from Yang’s eyes, leaving her small and ashamed in her seat.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” she whispered, shrinking. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” Jaune cut in gently. “That’s on me. Sorry.”

Yang nodded, gaze dropping again, and returned to quietly finishing her sandwich.

No one else spoke for the rest of breakfast.

“And that’s the last of them! Thanks for the help!”

Yang just nodded, rolling her shoulders back as she leaned against the fence, arms draped loosely over the top rail. The brim of Isabel’s borrowed hat dipped low over her eyes, giving her an excuse not to make eye contact while she stared toward the Arc family house.

Specifically, toward the second-floor window. Jaune’s room.

After breakfast, Katy had whisked Lilac off — something about Mercer being sick from the rain and needing soup right now? Whatever it was, it had Lilac frantically preparing some of the best smelling soup Yang ever smelled in her life, and her dragging Katy by the wrist to her own home.

Meanwhile, Yang had been tying on her boots when Jaune passed her on the landing. He’d slowed just long enough to give her a crooked grin.

“Here’s to another day in paradise…” he’d muttered before slipping into his room and shutting the door, giving himself an air of silence for his studies.

Even before the latch clicked, Yang saw the smile fall off his face. Like he dropped it the second he thought no one was watching.

Now she stared at that same window, arms tightening over the fence. She wondered how far he’d gotten with his so-called “dream.” She wondered if she should say something. Anything.

‘Maybe if I say something this time, Isabel will finally let him be happy and—’

Yang cut the thought off so sharply she almost flinched. ‘Stop that. That would just make things worse for him, like the last time you tried to help. She’s already doing so much for you… besides, it’s not your place… she’s not your mom.’

That stopped her cold.

Her breath caught as a memory slammed into her — Raven’s face. That flicker of hope she showed Yang when she opened the portal. The way she snuffed it out almost immediately when she turned back to Goodwitch.

Heat burst under her ribs — anger tangled with confusion, tangled with something she refused to name. She groaned and leaned her head back, holding the hat so it wouldn’t fall.

“Why the hell did I think of her when—”

She broke off, jaw tightening, the question twisting inside her.

“Thinking of Jaune?”

The heat in her chest vanished instantly. Yang snapped her head around to see Nick grinning at her, leaning against the fence a few paces away.

“You were staring at his window,” he chuckled.

Yang’s face heated under the brim of the hat. She turned away again. “I— yeah. It’s just…”

Nick ambled over and rested his arms on the fence beside her. “I know — you two made a promise.”

Yang went rigid. Slowly, she turned toward him. “I… yeah. You still remember that?”

Nick’s grin softened. “Oh yeah. So does Jaune. He still brings it up when Katy or Izzy start talking about which doctor-school-thing—whatever fancy name it is—they want him to go to. ‘Yang and I made a promise— and you told me to never break my promise!’” He snorted. “Isabel’s face when he said that… God, you should’ve been— actually, no. Probably good you weren’t.”

Yang’s stomach dropped, the reminder hitting her like a stone — the wedge she’d driven between Jaune and his family all those years ago. “Oh…” She tugged the brim of the hat lower, hiding her eyes.

Nick gave her back a firm, reassuring pat. “Honestly? I’m kind of glad you did.”

Yang blinked. Wait, what?

She looked up at him, confused. Nick wasn’t looking at her; he was staring straight ahead at Jaune’s window.

“If it were up to me, and just me?” he murmured, voice low. “I would’ve started training Jaune to be a Huntsman the very first day he asked.”

Slowly, Yang’s expression twisted from shock into something else. Anger, frustration, betrayal on someone else’s behalf, surged through her. So the door had been open this entire time… and Jaune had never been allowed to walk through it.

“Are you kidding me? Why didn’t you, then? He’s been begging for years. He even came to me and my mo—”

Raven’s face flickered in her mind again and Yang crushed the image flat before it could derail her. “To Goodwitch, and you—”

Nick finally turned to her. His smile was small and sad, and it made her anger deflate like a balloon.

“Because,” he said gently, “I also understand why Isabel doesn’t want that life for our son.”

Yang hesitated, waiting for Nick to continue. He turned back to Jaune’s window, the sad smile never leaving. “I’m sure you don’t need me to explain how being a Huntsman isn’t all medals and laurels, right? Your mom and dad took care of that?”

She nodded.

“Sure, we helped a lot of people. And neither Izzy nor I regret that… but for every good thing we did, it felt like we saw ten tragedies. Each one worse than the last.” He paused, swallowing. “And then something happened…”

Yang already knew. Goodwitch had told her once, when she asked her more about her injury.

“Mt. Glenn,” she whispered.

Nick nodded. “Yeah. We were all there that day — us and your mom.”

Yang flinched, eyes flashing red before she caught herself and breathed through it.

“It was… bad, Yang. Really bad. But Izzy—Isabel had it worse.” His voice dropped. “Remember how I told you Jaune was born sickly? In and out of the hospital when he was a baby?”

Yang nodded slowly.

“Well… Jaune was born right before Mt. Glenn. And instead of being able to stay with him, Isabel had to answer the call. We all did.”

Yang froze, horrified. This part no one had ever told her. Nick finally met her eyes, tears gathering at the corners.

“After… everything, when she got back, she worked for three straight weeks without sleeping,” he said quietly. “Just her semblance keeping her running — keeping him alive in an incubator. Three weeks, Yang. No rest. And doing that right after what happened at Mt. Glenn…” He looked away, voice breaking. “It broke her.”

Yang’s breath caught. “Y-you don’t—”

Nick raised a hand gently. “You’re right. I don’t. But I should.”

He took a steadying breath.

“When Jaune finally stabilized — when we knew he’d pull through — Isabel looked at me and said, ‘I can’t let Jaune live the life we went through. I can’t let him feel that pain.’ And that was it. She retired. Focused on healing people instead of fighting monsters.”

When he finished, Yang stared down at her boots, rubbing her shoulder. “I’m… sorry for ruining that, then.”

Nick let out a soft laugh and patted her shoulder. “Don’t be. When Jaune got older, I realized it was wrong of us to keep him from his dreams. Parents… parents aren’t supposed to tell their kids who to be. But Isabel…” He exhaled, long and weary. “She made up her mind a long time ago. And every time I think, ‘maybe I should say something,’ I remember the look she had after Mt. Glenn. After those three weeks in the hospital…”

He glanced back toward the farmhouse. “Jaune almost gave up once, you know? I saw it in his eyes — that quiet… acceptance.” His hands tightened on the fence. “And then you showed up. You lit that fire in him again. You reminded him of what he wants.”

“So thanks, Yang. For being brave enough to do what I couldn’t.”

Yang’s cheeks went pink. She looked away but didn’t resist when Nick pulled her into a hug.

‘I don’t feel very brave, though…’ she thought.

Yang and Nick took a short break before the next task. Yang settled onto a hay bale, took a long drink from her flask, then set it aside and stared at her hands.

She thought about earlier, how Raven’s face kept cutting through her thoughts, overlapping Glynda’s whenever she reached for the word mom. It made no sense. She tried, deliberately, to summon something warm about Goodwitch: birthday mornings, late-night TV shows, any of the small gentle moments. But every time, Raven’s split-second look of hope flickered in instead, stubborn and wrong. Meanwhile, with Glynda…

Her fingers curled tight around her knees.

Nick, halfway through a bite of his sandwich, slowed… then stopped altogether. He watched her carefully, concerned, then lowered his sandwich.

“Yang?” he asked gently.

She took a deep breath, turned toward him fully, and fixed him with a steady, unblinking stare.

“Tell me about Raven.”

Nick froze mid-motion. For a moment, he just looked at her. Then he let out a slow sigh.

“You know I can’t do that, Yang…”

Her eyes widened. And instantly, everything inside her — grief, regret, the hollow ache from last night — all of it was incinerated by a fresh, violent spark of rage.

“You’re kidding me,” she hissed, her eyes flashing red. “Even after everything that just happened? No one is going to tell me anything?!”

Nick didn’t flinch. He just looked at her with a quiet sadness… then stepped away. Yang didn’t even notice him leave. Her anger surged too fast, too violently, her fingers digging into her knees hard enough to hurt.

“She shows up! At our house! Our damn house, after more than ten years. Ten years of nothing! Not a letter, not a visit, not a damn rumor. I ask everyone, everyone, and not even my dad or my— my ‘mom’—”

She spat the word like it tasted rotten.

“—tell me anything. Nothing about why the woman who shot me out of her womb wants zero to do with me!”

Her hair started to rise, like flames in a furnace.

“And then she finally, finally shows up! And I think… I think I’ll finally get answers, real answers, everything I’ve ever wanted— and then she, after years of promising me the truth, just— just takes it away again! For good this time!”

By now she was on her feet, semblance fully blazing. Her hair snapped and crackled like an open fire, lighting up the fury on her face.

“And after ALL THAT— after everything, because of some… some stupid promise you made my dad, I STILL don’t know anything?! Are you fu—”

Slap! 

A pair of gloves smacked the side of her cheek and bounced off her shoulder, falling into the dirt with a dull thud.

Yang staggered half a step, stunned. The heat around her sputtered.

She turned to see Nick standing a short distance away, posture calm, holding a short, worn training sword — one much smaller than the one he normally used.

“Those are some of Izzy’s old gloves,” he said softly, nodding toward the pair lying at Yang’s feet. “Put them on. And hit me.”

On any other day, she would’ve asked if he was serious.

Right now, though, she only wanted to hit something — as hard as she possibly could.

Jaune, mid-sentence in his paper, froze when a loud, angry cry echoed from the backyard. He glanced out the window and saw a glowing Yang trying to punch through Nick’s sword — only to be grabbed and flung straight up into the air. She landed hard, coming down with another furious punch against the blade.

Jaune smiled sadly. ”Well… at least one of us is having fun,” he muttered, before turning back to his paper.

Yang was not having fun.

“Just—” punch “Break—” punch “ALREADY!”

Nick didn’t even flinch. He and his sword held firm, the flat of the blade catching every strike like it was nothing. He hadn’t thrown a single counter all morning — just blocked, deflected, and taunted.

“C’mon, Yang!” he called out with a grin. “Hit me already!”

“SHUT UP!” she roared, her hair bursting higher.

Desperate, she tried something she barely remembered from Goodwitch’s lessons. Yang rushed forward, planted a boot on the edge of Nick’s sword, and vaulted upward — twisting into a kick aimed straight for the top of his head.

“RAUUGHHH!”

“Too slow!” Nick barked. “Too sloppy!”

The hilt of his sword slammed into her stomach, knocking the breath out of her. Yang hit the dirt and rolled, coughing, spitting out a mouthful of grass as she forced herself up.

“Seriously? I know that trick! It was your mother who—”

“DON’T CALL HER THAT!” Yang shrieked.

She launched herself at him with no form, no plan — just fury. Nick sidestepped cleanly, momentarily startled by the look she shot him over her shoulder: raw, blazing, unfiltered rage.

Her technique shattered. Every strike came wild and uneven, driven by emotion rather than training. Nick blocked once, twice, three times—

Then stopped bothering altogether, letting the hits land harmlessly against his aura.

”SHE’S NOT MY MOTHER! NONE OF THEM ARE!” she shouted.

Nick opened his mouth to answer — and caught a sharp knee to the chin. He barely blinked.

“A REAL MOTHER WOULDN’T HAVE LEFT ME AS A BABY!”

Punch.

“A REAL MOTHER WOULDN’T HAVE LIED TO ME MY WHOLE LIFE!”

Punch.

“A REAL MOTHER WOULD BE LIKE SUMMER!”

PUNCH.

Her strongest hit yet — and still Nick didn’t budge. He simply stood there, eyes soft with the kind of sadness that made everything worse.

Yang kept throwing punches, knuckles cracking against his aura, each one weaker than the last, until the tears finally forced their way through.

“A real mother wouldn’t be— wouldn’t be— wouldn’t be like her…” Her voice crumpled mid-syllable.

Then she was in his arms, sobbing into his chest before she even realized she’d fallen forward.

“What’s wrong with me, Uncle Nick…” she wailed, “Why can’t I see her anymore…”

For the first time, Nick didn’t understand what she meant. No words came. He just wrapped both arms around her and held tight.

“Yang…” His voice was low and steady. “Despite everything you’re feeling right now… deep down, you know Glynda’s been the best damn mom you could’ve ever asked for.”

Yang didn’t answer. She just cried harder.

Nick pulled her closer, one hand steady on the back of her head. “If you ever need to punch your feelings out again… you come to me, alright?”

She gave a tiny, exhausted nod, pressing her face into him. Her hair, once blazing, dimmed to faint, trembling embers.

“Oh my- Nick? What happened, what did you do?! Yang, are you okay?”

Sniffle 

“Yeah Mrs. Arc… I’m fine…”

The next morning, it was just Jaune and Yang at the breakfast table.

Isabel had already left for work, and Nick was outside doing the farm chores alone, insisting she “deserved a break.”

Inside, Yang sat across from Jaune, arms folded tight, staring at him like he’d completely lost his mind. Jaune, meanwhile, calmly spooned cereal into his mouth, utterly unbothered.

“So… so let me get this straight…” Yang said, pinching her brow, her voice pitched somewhere between disbelief and genuine concern. “Help me try to process this.”

Jaune glanced up, one eyebrow raised.

“You, Jaune Arc…” She pointed accusingly.

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Yang rolled her eyes so hard it was almost audible.

“You, Jaune Arc, bought fifty boxes of cereal…”

“Correct.”

“…all in the hopes of getting a sweater with a bunny on it?”

Jaune looked scandalized. “First of all—how dare you? He’s not just any bunny, he’s Pumpkin Pete.” He pointed his spoon at her, offended.

Yang rolled her eyes for what felt like the tenth time that morning.

“Second of all…” Jaune continued, giving her a wounded glare before dropping his spoon back into the bowl and returning to his breakfast. “Yeah, that’s correct. Want some?”

That did it.

Yang exploded into laughter, doubling over while Jaune watched her with an infuriatingly smug little smirk.

“See? I’m funny,” he said, failing miserably to hide the wide smile creeping up his face.

She was wheezing now. “N-no!” Yang managed between giggles. “You’re just an idiot!”

Still snickering, she went to fetch her own bowl and grabbed one of the boxes. The moment she saw who was plastered across the front, her eyes narrowed.

“Huh… you didn’t tell me Pyrrha Nikos was on these boxes. That’s actually kind of funny.” She sat down and began pouring cereal into her bowl—only for Jaune to suddenly pause.

“Who?”

Yang stared at him like he’d grown a second head. She snatched the box and held it up, pointing at the smiling redhead with shining emerald eyes.

“Pyrrha Nikos? The Invincible Girl? Winner of—who even knows—dozens of tournaments in Mistral? You’ve never heard of her?”

Jaune shook his head. “Nope. Never. We don’t get a lot of Huntress-related stuff out here. Plus, I’ve been busy with medical school and all that…”

“Oh, that’s bull and you know it,” Yang shot back instantly. “Pyrrha isn’t a Huntress, she’s an athlete! They televise her matches all the time! You’ve definitely seen her fight at least once in the background.”

He shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know… maybe? How do you know so much about her, anyway?”

Yang hesitated, eyes dropping to her bowl. “Goodwitch suggested I watch a couple of her fights a while back… to get ideas on how I want to fight… and… whatnot.”

Jaune just nodded. “Ah.”

He returned to eating, and the mood settled into something heavier filling the space between them. 

Then Jaune’s face brightened. “Say, Yang…” he began, a smirk forming.

“Brothers damned, this cereal is so bad. Why did you buy so many…?” she muttered, poking at the bowl. She finally glanced up. “Hm? What’s up?”

“If you and her got into a fight, would you lose…?”

Yang stared at him for a long second, then set her spoon down and leaned back, thinking it over.

“If I’m not able to figure out her semblance quick enough, she might cause me a little trouble.”

Jaune rolled his eyes, trying to hide his laughter. “Right, but that’s not what I asked. Would you lose?”

Yang’s smirk returned in full. “Nah. I’d win.”

Jaune cracked immediately, laughter bursting out of him—right up until he inhaled a spoonful of cereal and choked.

In the middle of taking a sip of orange juice, Yang, startled, spat it straight across the table—right onto him.

“Oi!” he sputtered, coughing and pounding his chest, half-grinning through it.

Yang doubled over, laughing so hard she almost toppled out of her chair.

When they finally calmed down, Jaune shot her a dramatic glare. “Seriously? I start choking and all you do is laugh? I could’ve died!” he said, still grinning as he headed off to grab clean clothes.

Yang wiped her eyes and slung an arm over the back of her chair. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it! Gods, that was so stupid. I’m just glad no one was around to hear that.”

From upstairs, Jaune called back, smug: “So would you actually win, or would you ‘Nah, I’d win’, you know?”

She snorted. “You kidding? Hell no. She’d wipe the floor with me.”

Jaune’s head reappeared around the corner. “Really? Even with all the training you’ve gotten from your mom? Normally you’d be all like ‘Rah, I’m the strongest,’ or ‘It’s clobberin’ time!’”

She paused, and the light in her eyes flickered out for a second. “…Ok first of all, I have never said that. That line belongs to a hero I would never dream of stealing from, he’s too cool for that. Second… She may be one of the best Huntresses in the world, but she hasn’t taught me everything yet, and that includes how to beat Nikos.”

Jaune let out a low whistle, concerned about the look in her eyes. “She’s really that strong, huh?”

Yang nodded. “Yeppp…” she drawled.

They sat in a brief, easy silence.

“…Wanna watch some of her matches after breakfast?” he asked.

Yang thought about it, shrugged. “Sure. I’ve got nothing else to do today.”

Later, Isabel came home to find Jaune and Yang sitting side by side on the couch, shoulders touching as they watched highlights from Mistralian tournaments over the years.

“Seriously, Jaune,” Yang laughed, “I know you have fifty boxes, but you don’t need to eat them all as fast as possible! They’re so bad!”

“No, it’s fine,” he coughed out. ”I’m fine!”

Both Yang and Isabel rolled their eyes at his stubbornness.

“I still think you’d win.”

Yang blinked and glanced at Jaune beside her. His hands were buried in the soapy sink, both of them volunteering for dinner cleanup duty after spending the entire day watching Nikos’ Greatest Highlights.

She turned back to the running water, scrubbing the plate in her hands a little harder. “You’re just saying that…”

Jaune shook suds off his fingers and gave her an earnest smile. “No, really! She might be faster, sure, but if we’re putting it in RPG stats? Your Attack and Defense are way higher.”

Yang snorted. “Doesn’t mean much if I can’t land a hit. You’re thinking way too highly of me, boyo.” She flicked a splash of water at him to underline the point.

Jaune laughed, leaning out of the splash zone. “No, I’m not. Never have. You’re incredible, Yang. Anyone can see that.”

Heat rose instantly in her cheeks, a quiet flutter catching in her chest before she swallowed it down.

“Thanks,” she muttered, unable to stop the soft, sheepish smile tugging at her mouth.

Jaune returned the smile with a brighter one of his own. “Of course! …Besides, I’m sure your mom would know a way to take Pyrrha down if you asked—”

The shift was immediate.

Her blush vanished. Her smile flattened. The spark in her eyes dimmed like someone flipped a switch. Without a word, she pulled the plug on the sink, tossed the towel from her shoulder onto the counter, and stepped back.

“Moment’s over…” she muttered, already turning away.

Jaune’s hand lifted to stop her, apology on his lips—

but he let it fall when she rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

He stared at the empty space beside him, regret pulling at his features.

‘Me and my big mouth…’

“Nice going, dingus…” Tangy muttered behind him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know…”

“This is nice…” Katy said with a small smile as she watched the path ahead.

“Yeah…” Yang replied, matching her gaze.

A few days later, after breakfast, Yang had been left to her own devices again. Jaune, pushed by his mother, had gone back to studying, leaving Yang to resign herself to training alone in the backyard. Or she would have… if she hadn’t opened the front door after a knock to a fidgeting Katy, asking in a tiny rush whether she wanted to take a walk in the forest together.

Now they walked side by side at an easy, uncertain pace. Neither seemed to know how to begin. Eventually, Yang took a breath and went for the obvious.

“So… h-how are you and Jaune?” she asked, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Katy flinched faintly. She smiled back, though it wobbled at the edges. “We’re good. Things are… nice! Yeah, nice!”

Yang nodded, this time with a slightly more genuine smile. “That’s… nice.”

A cold breeze cut through the trees, brushing their faces as they continued down the path.

‘This is so awkward,’ they both thought, almost in sync.

Yang nudged a pebble out of their way with her boot.

“I’m not going to apologize,” Katy said suddenly.

Yang stopped and turned. “Huh?”

Katy kept her eyes fixed ahead, hands buried deeper in her pockets. “About taking Jaune from you.”

Yang frowned. “Tak—? Katy, he’s not property. You didn’t take anything from me. He gets to make his own decisions.”

She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “I mean, can I be frustrated with him? Sure. Even if it’s unfair. There’s nothing wrong with feeling that way. Not my fault the guy’s denser than a duffel bag of cinder blocks. And can I shake my fist at the sky about how you had homefield advantage? Yeah… though that’d look… really stupid.”

Katy giggled, and the tension between them eased just a little.

“But…” Yang continued, eyes drifting toward the ground with a soft smile, “even with all that… you’re the one who got your courage together first. Maybe if I’d asked him before you, things would be different. But… they aren’t. He made his choice. And I can’t be mad at you or him for that.”

She looked up at Katy, her eyes warm and honest.

“All I can do is support you guys… Because… you’re my friends.”

Katy blinked, shoulders relaxing as she gave Yang a grateful smile of her own. “That’s… surprisingly mature for you.”

“Thanks… you big fart monster,” Yang shot back with a smirk.

What started as a snort from Katy turned into her bursting out laughing. “There she is!” she said, grabbing Yang and pulling her into a tight hug. “Oh, I missed you, you lousy booger brain!”

Yang laughed and let herself be wrapped up from behind. “Ha! Booger brain. I remember how insulted I was the first time you called me that.”

The faunus smirked. “Because of how accurate it was?”

“Oh, sure!” Yang laughed, nudging her with her shoulder. “I’ve got boogers for brains! Every time I open my mouth, they spill out and go bleeeuurrgh everywhere!” She mimed an exaggerated, full-body vomiting motion.

Katy nearly collapsed, laughing. “Breaker, Yang, that’s disgusting! Please, don’t do that!”

Yang snickered and spun her around lightly. “Oh, sorry—should I do a little boogie instead? Take you to a club so we can dance?”

That did it. Katy hit the ground, laughing uncontrollably. “Yang! I take it back—you are not mature at all!”

Yang tried—and failed—to stifle her own laughter. “That’s just snot true!” she said, instantly making Katy wheeze harder.

“I’m totes mature,” Yang insisted, smirking proudly. “It’s not my fault you caught a case of the giggles…”

Katy groaned through her laughter, rolling onto her side. “That’s not even a real pun!”

Later, they sat together on a quiet bench, Katy’s head resting against Yang’s shoulder.

“You sure you’re okay though?” she murmured, glancing up at her friend.

Yang let out a long sigh and tipped her head back. “For the love of… yes, Katy! How many times do I have to say it? It stings a little, but I’ll get over it. So, you don’t have to hide or hold back anything in front of me—”

“I wasn’t talking about Jaune this time.”

Yang went still. She kept staring at the sky, jaw tense, the breath in her chest caught somewhere between annoyance and dread.

“I’m not asking you to tell me what happened,” Katy continued softly. “That wouldn’t be fair. Not right now. But… something else is going on. I can tell.”

Yang snorted, but her mouth trembled, betraying her. “Oh, can you now?”

Katy lifted her head and really looked at her. Yang’s smile was a thin, shaking thing now — all bravado slipping out through the cracks.

“Yang…”

She didn’t push further, she just eased an arm around her and drew her in. Yang folded immediately, pressing her face into Katy’s chest. The oversized sweater— the one her brother had bought for Aslanmas years ago— darkened with hot tears as Yang clung to her and sobbed quietly, like she would break apart if she let go.

“I fucked up so bad Katy…” Her voice was muffled and trembling. “I know I did… but I’m still so angry at… at everyone… and now I can’t… my mom and her and…”

“Shhh… shhh, hey…” Katy whispered, one hand rubbing slow circles on her back. “It’s okay. You can let it out. It’s just us.”

Yang shook against her, breath hitching. “What do I do, Katy? What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I see her?”

For the next few days after that, Yang devoted her time entirely to her training, having decided that she let herself slack off long enough. Nick wasn’t around to offer her “tips and pointers”, or for another spar, so she hiked to her favorite spot by the edge of the forest, where the trees were sturdy enough to take a beating, and ran through the forms her dad and Glynda had drilled into her.

Each strike, further denting the tree, echoed with a memory.

“…my life is already perfect with just the two of you as my daughters. Never forget that.”

Punch.

“Now girls—remember. You follow all safety protocols when handling Dust. Are we clear?”

Punch.

“I love you too.”

“…Love you too, Mom.”

Punch.

The next hit landed a little too hard, shaking bark loose. Yang’s breath hitched—half exertion, half something else.

A voice drifted in from behind her. “I saw some of your moves earlier. You were a little stiff.”

Yang turned. Isabel approached with her hands clasped behind her back, posture relaxed but eyes sharp.

Yang arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

In answer, Isabel stepped forward and flowed into a kata—clean, elegant, almost absurdly controlled. Yang tracked the transitions automatically: Mistralian kung fu into Valean kickboxing, then sliding seamlessly into Fuujin aikido, swapping disciplines effortlessly as if it were second nature.

When Isabel finished, Yang squared her stance and tried to follow the sequence. She made it halfway before her foot caught, her balance went, and she hit the dirt with an undignified thud. Heat flared in her cheeks. She batted away Isabel’s offered hand, pushing herself up and resetting her stance with a stubborn breath.

“It’s okay,” Isabel said gently. “No one masters new forms in a day. Take your father, for example—an incredible fighter, yes. But even he took years to reach the point where he can fight just as well half-asleep as awake.”

She gave Yang a small, knowing smile. “And he certainly fell on his backside more than once along the way.”

Yang kept moving through the form, breath steadying as Isabel’s words drifted in.

“But he also picked up a few moves from other styles,” Isabel continued. “It’s good to change things up in a fight — keep your opponent guessing.”

She stepped up beside Yang, mirroring her stance. Together, they moved through the kata again, slower this time, each transition unspooling in measured beats.

“I know,” Yang muttered as she completed the kung fu segment. “My m—Goodwitch told me the same thing.”

The kata ended more cleanly this time, and Yang allowed herself the smallest nod of satisfaction.

Isabel looked faintly saddened by the way Yang had dismissed her mother but offered more advice instead. “Good. Keep trying. Don’t overthink your foot placement. Your hips lead the movement. Once you trust that, the footwork will follow.”

Yang let out a small snort of appreciation. “Let’s hope Jaune doesn’t catch you training me…” she teased, grin wide.

Then Nick’s story flickered through her memory. Her grin faded. “I… sorry.”

Isabel paused and stayed silent for a moment, then looked away in slight shame. “...You must think I’m cruel. Keeping him from his dream.”

Yang shrugged and drifted back toward the tree, throwing a few half-hearted punches at the bark. “Nick told me why. I get it — I really do. Kind of. But… Jaune doesn’t.”

Her fists tightened. “Then again, parents not telling their kids anything has kinda been a running theme in my life, so what do I know?”

Punch. Punch. Punch.

“…Sorry,” she muttered, eyes on the ground. “That was mean. You’ve been really nice and patient with me after… everything.”

“Yang,” Isabel sighed softly, “it isn’t always easy to tell your kids everything. We all realize our parents are people too — at different times, and for different reasons.”

Punch!

Yang whipped around, eyes bright with a sudden flare of red. “Well, they could’ve at least told me something before she showed up!”

Isabel met her eyes calmly. “Yes. They could have. But I understand why… because I was friends with Raven too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You all were,” Yang muttered, flicking the thought aside. It was the one detail she’d ever been told.

Isabel didn’t react. But something in her gaze dimmed, a quiet, weary age settling behind her eyes.

“We were… well, I thought I was.”

Yang didn’t catch it. She was already winding herself up again. “It’s just Dad—”

Punch.

“Made you guys promise not to tell me anything. And ‘Mom’—”

Punch.

“Just—just…”

Isabel nodded. “I know. We wanted to tell you when you were ready.”

Yang dropped her fist and rounded on her, frustration sparking. “Oh, gee, that’s great. And am I ready now? Or do I need to start throwing rocks at every bird until one of them starts speaking my language?”

A breath slipped out of Isabel, long and steady. She sat down on a fallen tree, patting the spot next to her. Yang decided to stay standing. 

“Your mother was… aggressive. Barbaric, even. She judged everyone by strength. She thought I was weak — because I studied, because I wanted to heal people, because I was polite.”

Then a small, crooked smile touched her mouth. “I changed her mind by beating her face in after I finally lost my temper. After that, I suppose we were friends. She respected me because I finally spoke her language.”

Yang exhaled, eyes sinking to the carpet of fallen leaves at her feet. “…And Dad?”

A soft smile warmed Isabel’s features, remembering fonder times. “After he defeated her and protected her in a fight… she didn’t know what to do with her feelings. She actually asked me for advice.”

Yang blinked and looked up. “You? Aren’t you, like, the poster child for classic Mistralian manga tsundere tropes?”

Isabel laughed. “That’s a title I’ve somehow never heard before. But yes. It’s always easier to give advice than follow it. So I told her to admit her feelings to your dad and work it out.”

She remembered that day—how Raven mistook it for a challenge and dragged Tai to the training grounds. How, after thrashing him for refusing to go all out, she threw him against the wall and kissed him hungrily in front of everyone.

“Mine!” she’d declared to both their teams—and Glynda, glaring at everyone. Ironic.

“Though it took her a while to get over her stubbornness and admit she cared for him,” Isabel continued. “In her and Qrow’s culture, admitting weakness is dangerous. Everyone is always watching for the slightest vulnerability to exploit.”

Yang stared back at her, her face unreadable. “So you’re saying she actually loved my dad once?”

Isabel’s nod was slow, sad even. “I want to think so, yes.”

Yang’s eyes flashed crimson, and she whirled around.

“Then why did she leave?”

PUNCH.

The tree splintered, cracked straight through the middle, and toppled with a heavy thud. Yang didn’t even flinch. She just stalked to the next tree and started swinging again, each hit vibrating through the clearing.

“That’s what makes this so hard for everyone, Yang,” Isabel said quietly. “We don’t know.”

Yang spun back toward her, fury sparking in her eyes. “Oh, great — you don’t know! That’s just perfect!” She threw her hands up into the sky. “Here’s what I know: I could’ve been the only one who learned why. But my so-called ‘mother’ took away the last chance I had to find out!”

Isabel exhaled slowly, shoulders sinking. “Maybe she couldn’t walk away from the bandit life. Maybe strength meant more to her than a home. Maybe she was terrified of being weak — she was raised to hate the very idea of it. Or…” Her voice tightened, just slightly. “Maybe she really was a monster who decided her responsibility ended the day you were weaned.”

Yang froze mid-swing, jaw clenched. Raven’s words echoed in her skull.

‘Come with me. Learn real strength.’

“And now that I’m strong…”

Isabel nodded once. “Can you understand why we struggled to talk to you about this?”

Yang exhaled hard, rubbing at her arm, the anger cooling into a low, aching ember. “I…I guess.”

The older woman kept speaking. “I’ve helped in villages that bandits destroyed. I’ve seen death and suffering caused by selfish, horrible people.” Her voice turned gentle. “And then I remember Raven — when she protected me on a training mission, when we shared ice cream and laughed, when she was nervous about her wedding to your dad and asked me for help.”

The memory softened her expression. Raven crying behind a locked door, terrified she was making a mistake. She walked down the aisle with ruined makeup and puffy eyes — and Tai still called her the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“I remember the person I knew and cared about,” Isabel murmured, “and I see what she’s become. It’s not easy to reconcile the two. It’s even harder for your father — and just as hard for Glynda, because she loves you so much and wants to protect you.”

Yang scoffed. “Yeah…”

Punch. Punch. Punch.

The next strike stalled halfway. “What do you mean, ‘bandit’? What, does she wait by the road until a horse-drawn carriage wanders by?”

Isabel gave a wobbly so-so gesture. “More like… a minor warlord in Mistral.”

Yang blinked. “Ah. So no carriages.”

The older woman nodded. “And a lot more stealing and violence.”

Yang grimaced, frustration twisting in her gut. “W-Well, maybe there’s a reason for that! I could’ve found out why! But Glynda—”

Punch!

“Glynda decided — on her own, as an outsider — ‘Let me keep Yang from her mother again, keeping her away from the one thing she’s asked for her entire life!’”

“Yang…” Isabel warned gently.

But Yang wasn’t listening. “Some mother she is! ‘I’m not here to replace your mom.’ Really? Because it sure felt like she didn’t want me anywhere near her!”

Punch!

“Though I guess she kept her promise in a way — because Summer would’ve at least let me talk to her!”

PU–!

Isabel stepped forward and caught Yang’s fist mid-swing. The punch stopped cold between them, hanging there in the tense air that followed. Yang refused to look at her, jaw set, the wind tugging at her hair.

“Yang?” Isabel’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. “Raven tried to take you away—without asking your parents, without telling anyone. She could’ve come at any time to talk to you, and no one would have known where you disappeared to.”

Yang turned her head aside further, but her hand stayed trapped in Isabel’s grasp.

“Glynda stopped her because she didn’t know where Raven was taking you, or for how long, or whether she’d ever let you come home.” Isabel paused, letting the words land. “If something like that happened to Ruby—if someone tried to take her without telling a soul—what would you do?”

Yang’s eyes snapped up, lilac now. “That’s different! Ruby’s my sister—she’s family! Last I checked, I don’t have Goodwitch blood running through my veins, so what gives her the right to stop me?”

But the moment she said it, a memory blazed through the anger.

“…my life is already perfect with just the two of you as my daughters. Never forget that.”

Glynda’s voice on her wedding day. So sure. So full of love Yang had never felt before.

Her heart twisted, and she broke eye contact again.

Isabel watched her, her smile sad and knowing. “And to Glynda, you are her daughter,” she said gently. “She loves you. She was trying to protect you. That’s family.”