RWBY - Child Of Light

Chapter 6: The Edge Of Oneself

Again, I wake to the sight of Blake sleeping peacefully by my side, and my heart skips a beat. I take in the warmth of her presence. I can feel the faint weight of her hand resting on my arm, grounding me, making everything real.

You have spent a peaceful evening, and your status has been fully restored!

[Bonus Effect] Full Night's Rest: Increases your maximum HP and Aura by 20%.

Your Intelligence, Wisdom, and Dexterity have gained a temporary bonus of 5!

That's... Wow, that's amazing.

There are no words to describe how good I feel, like taking a bath for the first time after weeks of dragging myself through the mud. I guess I never really had a chance to slow down, never felt genuinely safe in this world. Or at least, not safe enough to stop looking over my shoulder, wondering if someone was going to kick down my door that night and shoot me in my sleep. There's something unnerving about being the outsider, the wanderer, the unknown. Even when I try not to think about it, it's hard not to notice how I keep getting dragged deeper into trouble, like sinking into a sandpit that pulls me down no matter which way I turn.

A part of me likes it, no matter how stupid it sounds. I genuinely enjoy the feeling of constantly being on my toes, even if it's just feeling like my life matters, like something big is happening, and I'm at the center of it all.

But deep down, I'm scared.

I never imagined my life could be one wrong move from the edge, again and again. I can't shake the feeling that I'm probably not the best fit for this job—whatever it is I'm supposed to do. It's just too much. Logically, I can piece together everything that's happened so far. My mind is cold and calculating, able to handle every moment and bit of information from the past few days like notes scrawled on the palm of my hand, analyzed and re-analyzed a thousand times over out of pure, desperate overthinking.

Theoretical: This situation is within my control and understanding. I can dissect everything I've seen and make an educated guess about where this is all leading.

Practical: I feel sick to my stomach. Each step I take is like stacking another brick on an endless wall, weighing down on my shoulders. For now, I can bear it by pretending my failure wouldn't mean the end of this world and everyone in it. But if I let myself grasp that fully, even for a second, I'd likely break beneath it. I am no god, and the lives of millions shouldn't rest on my scales.

Is it even right for me to spend time like this? Do I have the right to waste hours in happiness as long as my task isn't done? If I fail, would these moments serve as a valid excuse?

I don't have the answers to these questions. Instead, I wrap my arms around Blake and hold her close. The scent of her skin is all I need to quiet my demons, my thumb tracing her soft features as I hold her with all the care a weary soul can muster. My eyes drift to her lips, pink and plump, half-open in silent breath. Fighting the temptation, I press a gentle kiss to her cheek and pull us both back under the sheets, letting myself rest my head on her shoulder.

There's no reason for me to doubt any path that's brought me to her side, for it must be the right one.

I have the right to be scared; I'll allow myself that much. But there will be no excuses. If I'm wise enough to fear the challenges ahead, then I'm wise enough to prepare myself for them. They will not find me unready or unprotected. I will live this second life I've claimed as a man should—I can't promise anything more, or anything less.

Theoretical: I must not fail.

Practical: I will not fail.

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