Black flames~

Broken Bonds

Beacon, three days after the apprehension of Roman Torchwick

Yang had intended to sleep a while longer, quite content to ignore Ruby's insistence they get up and prepare for the tournament and decide who to send ahead. Though her defeat during the train battle might've been enough motivation to sharpen her skills, Yang preferred to rest and recompose herself. And she wasn't the only one who'd felt that way, lazily indulging in the few quiet days before the Vytal Festival began in earnest.

Weiss had complied with Ruby's suggestion, and the two went off to train, as they often did, late into the night. Blake, on the other hand…

Yang wasn't sure what motivated the cat. Maybe she was seeking warmth and comfort. Maybe their brief bonding experience in the past week had triggered something within her. Maybe the brief moment they'd held each other during the dance had led to this moment. Or maybe this black cat simply wasn't so unlucky after all.

Yang had never had a better night's sleep.

When the light came in, however, Yang watched Blake climb out of her bed. "Are you afraid of what they'll say?" she teased, only half-serious. She didn't exactly want to announce it to the world, but she certainly wouldn't mind telling her sister and her teammate. Yang wasn't one for keeping secrets.

Blake, however… didn't say a word. She couldn't even meet Yang's eye.

Was she disappointed? Or ashamed? Did she feel guilty for doing this? Maybe she felt like she'd led Sun on, or betrayed him in some way? Or maybe she hadn't expected to carry things so far.

"Blake," Yang said, trying a more even, serious tone. "Are you alright?"

Blake still averted Yang's gaze. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Yang realized. She reached out to grasp her partner's arm, only for Blake to abruptly pull it away. Yang was silent for several seconds, watching her friend retreat. She hadn't been afraid of a more intimate touch in the dead of night.

Yang stared at the side of Blake's head. Blake looked at the ground. For several awkward seconds, the two were silent.

"Must've been some crazy dream I had," Yang suggested.

"Yeah," Blake breathed, still not looking at her. "Just a dream."

It wasn't the answer she'd hoped for. The words hurt to hear.

But Yang loved Blake, in one way or another. Having Blake in her life was more important than having Blake in her bed.

"I'm sorry," Yang heard her faintly whisper. Yang had no response to offer that.

She turned over and tried to go back to sleep, knowing that on this rare occasion, she wouldn't forget her dream…

After the Battle of Haven

Yang woke with a start, glancing frantically up. She expected the top bunk to fall on her head after the night she'd had… only to find nothing over her. She wasn't at Beacon anymore. She was in Mistral, in the house her Uncle Qrow set up.

She was remembering her dreams a bit too often now. Yang far preferred the days when she hadn't, when she could sleep and wake without any sense of time passing in between. And more prevalently, Yang thought she preferred the nightmares she'd been having before to the one she'd had now.

She'd much rather remember Adam cutting off her arm than… that.

Yang turned her attention down to the metal arm she'd been sleeping on and the discomfort she felt in her side, hitting her in a slow, gradually building pang. She didn't usually toss and turn when she slept –not anymore- but tonight she'd rolled over and cold metal and polymer poked her exposed skin. She could try and blame that; she could think her arm was the reason she had trouble sleeping. It was preferable to thinking it was simply discomfort and not a particular memory haunting her.