Classes, confessions...
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There were itches in everyone's life that they just had to scratch. Habits, addictions. Life had a way of throwing these things at everyone who had the misfortune of being born, from the lowliest strung out junkie to the CEO who insists that he's above such things. I was no different, of course.
I'd leapt at the chance to get up before dawn and run. My chest burned, unused to the kind of grueling punishment I'd once put my body through. Beacon issue running gear was a bit different from what I was used to - more form fitting than a light jacket and sweatpants - but they'd had serviceable running shoes at the very least.
My breath fogged in front of my face as I practically sprinted around the campus. The sun was just peeking over the crest of the horizon, spilling orange and red light across the vista in a display that anyone else would call beautiful.
I just kept running. This was a test as much as it was fulfilling a habit. How did my new power affect my stamina? How did it affect my fitness in general?
The local version of the internet had little specific in the way of answers. Either the academies were hoarding knowledge, or there was a ritualized element to their knowledge that I didn't understand.
I passed a tree, one carefully marked with a long tie of fabric. My starting line. I'd passed it three times already. Beacon Academy was choked with thoroughfares and side walkways, but several clear circles were drawn around the castle. Follow any one of them and you would eventually come back to the front of the place, a measure to help lost - or drunk, given the ages involved - students navigate.
It was still early, so I kept going. First class was at nine am, which meant I would need to round my team up for breakfast around seven, to account for time to cook and eat.
And that thought turned my mind to two things; my team, and the fact that I
had one again. I didn't strictly agree with Ozpin's choice; I'd had half a mind to go after him after the initiation and insist that it be given to someone else.
But I couldn't, of course. I hadn't been able to bring myself to do it.
I passed my starting line again.
This left me with a team to consider. They were competent enough in a fight, but that wasn't what concerned me. The friction was palpable, so much so that I was genuinely surprised that Yang and Weiss had stopped shooting each other evil glances long enough to stand on a stage and accept our assignments. I still wasn't sure
what they had against each other.
Yang insisted that Weiss had blown her up. I couldn't decide if I didn't believe or if that really did sound like something that would happen here.
Then there was Nora. She was... fine. Excitable, and her penchant for high explosives was appreciated. Much like myself, she'd taken a backseat in the arguments, preferring to try and calm them down rather than join in or ignore them. She wouldn't be my greatest issue, if anything she would be an asset.
My fourth lap went and the fifth came on, and I kept going. I was only two miles in and I felt like I had enough in the tank for even more. With the time I'd spent in the hospital, I should have been far more winded. I leaned into it, putting on the speed until I was almost sprinting. My legs were already long, and the next half mile went by in a blur. If I'd been able to run like this during my cape career, would-
Someone was waiting for me at my tree. I narrowed my eyes at the figure; she wore black and white, with a bow perched delicately in her 'hair', hiding a pair of cat ears. Her amber-gold eyes drilled deep into me as I approached, and I couldn't quite tell what was in them. Worry, maybe.
Blake Belladonna, as introduced by Ozpin. The amateur cape I'd run into.
I came to a slow stop, doing my best to act th unaware bystander. As far as she was concerned, I was just a runner seeing an acquaintance. "Blake. I wasn't expecting anyone to be up yet."
"I didn't realize you were a runner." Her voice was level, conversational.
"I like the routine. It keeps me sane." My water bottle rested on the ground near her feet. I gestured at it. "Could you?"
She plucked it up and tossed it at me. I barely caught it in my left hand, tucked it under my stump, and unscrewed the lid. "What brings you out here?"
"I think you know." Blake said, watching me drink.
So she wanted to get ahead of things, try and salvage her identity being known? It was a clunky way to get around the issue, and was hardly how I would have handled it. Of course, where I was from, someone's identity was a private matter and people tended to look the other direction. Unless they could get away with it.
"I have no idea what you mean," I said, cap going back on my bottle. I needed to play this carefully. Impressing upon her the importance of concealing her identity better, without giving away that I knew it. Blake did not strike me as the rational type, and plausible deniability was a powerful tool.
"Are you saying you didn't encounter a masked vigilante a few nights ago?" Blake asked, incredulous.
"Oh, I did. She tried to rescue me from some humans," I still felt so strange talking like that, but it was
expected of me now, "but I had it well in hand." I cocked my head and regarded her for a moment. "The sentiment was appreciated, at least. Not many throw themselves in harm's way for other people like that."
Now she was confused. The lack of cape culture on this Earth was rearing its ugly head; had I been this naive when I'd first gone out? Even I'd at least worn my costume to meet with the Undersiders, just in case. "Then you know why I'm here, don't you?"
"You want to make sure I won't tattle on you," I didn't say.
"I guess it makes sense she would have fans. She
was dressed like a ninja. Plus, the cat ears..." I muttered to myself, doing my damndest to put on a show. It wasn't like me, but the emphasis was necessary. "Rare for a faunus to be popular like that I suppose, but some of us are more marketable than others."
My antennae waggled against my will, and I bit back a huff.
"Right...Right!" Blake laughed, eyes flicking about. "I guess I'm just tired. So, uh, what was your opinion of... her. Not me, of course, just her."
I sighed and made a show of thinking. Like I didn't already have a list of criticisms and advice rumbling around in my head, waiting to come loose. "Her costume is good. It's eye-catching, but not overdramatic. Draws the eye to the right things."
With that I turned and smartly walked away, heading back towards the side entrance of the castle that led directly to the dormitories. Blake was exactly the type to keep on my heels, though, so...
"Oh. That's good, right?" Blake asked as expected. "Do you think it's good enough to hide who she is? People won't guess who she is?"
She was
bad at this. A good fighter, maybe a good cape if it came to it, but bad at talking sideways. Blake Belladonna sorely needed a Lisa in her life. A guide, someone to help her along the way.
Pity for her, I was the only one available. And I was unwilling to give away the fact that I knew; the idea of getting directly involved in burgeoning cape politics felt like a bridge too far, and it put a shiver down my spine.
"It was a bad call to leave her ears out. How many cat-faunus do you think are in the city?" I asked her as we entered the castle. It was still quiet, very few students actually up and at it quite yet. That was awfully convenient for my purposes, and I would take it for the gift that it was.
I took the stairs two at a time, forcing Blake to jump up them after me. "Maybe she's trying to prove a point."
"Risky, proving a point," I said quietly. "Do you think she can handle it?"
It wasn't uncommon for capes to set out to prove something, either to themselves or to the world around them. I'd done it, as had the rest of the Undersiders, and the Wards, and the Protectorate, all to various degrees. If anyone ever put on the mask for no reason other than pure altruism, I'd never met them. I didn't look back down at Blake, but I could feel her regarding me closely as we neared the third floor, and thus, our dorms.
"...I'm sure I can, she can, I mean.
She." Blake shook her head. "It's good that someone is out there, doing what needs to be done. I just hope no one finds out who she is and uses it against her."
She said this with some meaning, fixing me with what was intended to be an intimidating stare. It almost worked, hell, it
would have worked on me if I was two years younger. Before the Slaughterhouse, before the Endbringers. Instead of quailing like she seemed to want, I just shook my head and agreed with her.
"Let's hope." She stopped, at that, right in front of the communal kitchen the stairwell had spat us out in front of. I kept walking, cutting to the left down a hallway where I could just barely hear teams starting to wake up.
No response came. Instead she huffed, frustrated, and spun to clatter about in the kitchen. I bit back a sigh; I was just sure that she wouldn't stop bothering me on that front, not after what was surely an unsatisfying conversation for her. I simply could not risk someone overhearing her; the unwritten rules Lisa had impressed upon may have been largely bunk, but I couldn't bring myself to ruin them for someone else. Maybe she would get lucky. Maybe she wouldn't. Doing more than this and I would risk going back out in a mask myself.
I stopped at my door, my
team's door now I supposed. A deep breath braced me, and I pushed inside without knocking.
Directly into an argument of course. The shower was running, steam leaking out from the closed door, and Weiss was posted up right in front of it. Her hair was down, her nightgown was ruffled, a towel was tucked under her arm, and a scowl was written across her face. Her free hand slammed against the bathroom door, and she damn near shouted through it.
"Yang Xiao Long! You have been in there for
thirty minutes! The rest of us need to shower too!" A moment, and when there was no response, she started again. "YANG!"
I stepped past her, unnoticed, and fished a small hand towel out of my dresser. What little I'd managed to sweat was thus wiped off, and I turned my attention to my prosthetic, resting on its charging dock. Arguably I should put it on, despite the rents in its metal and plastic surface, but the loss in control and dexterity was unacceptable.
My left hand would have to do. Now I just needed to worm my way out of my gear and into my school uniform. Something I'd not thought I would need to do ever in my whole life. Why an institution at this level had them, I couldn't begin to fathom.
And Weiss was still banging on the bathroom door.
"Weiss. We have time, give it up. Get your things together, or go eat something." My uniform was neatly folded inside one drawer of my dresser. The process should be relatively simple. I didn't need a bra, exactly... I could do it.
I kicked off my shoes.
"It's the principle of the matter! We are sharing a space, and thus she should take care to
share that space!" She sounded frustrated, intensely so. "Why don't you order her out? You're the
leader after all."
"This isn't the military, and I'm not that kind of leader," anymore, "If Yang is taking too long, you'll have to work that out yourselves."
It was time for strategy. The uniform was a button up shirt, complete with small tie, blazer, tights, a checkered skirt, and a pair of flats. It was far more feminine than anything I'd worn in recent memory, but I'd been unwilling to go and ask for a boy's uniform. It would be tantamount to admitting defeat, in a way.
Tights first, then shirt, then skirt. The buttons would be an issue, but I could work through it. I hooked a thumb into the waistband of my workout leggings and got to work. They came off easily enough, and I kicked them aside thoughtlessly. Working the tights onto my legs was a bit harder, but I could manage it well enough. I just had to scrunch them up and fit my toes in first...
"What the- are you seriously not waiting?" Weiss complained, shielding her eyes with one hand.
"You'll have to get used to it. Do you think we'll get privacy to change in the field?" I couldn't even argue that it was fine because we were all girls; my Wards team had been split almost evenly down the gender divide, and we'd shared a locker room for my entire tenure.
It was just something you had to be mature enough to handle. She would get there.
"But we
aren't in the field," Weiss grumbled to herself, quiet enough that I doubted she'd intended for me to hear. "Have some decorum, you,
you-"
I ignored her now unintelligible words and smoothed out my tights. Uneventful, save a small tear near the waistband. It would be covered by my skirt and my shirt at least. Next came the button up, and this was just a touch harder: pull my sports bra off, shrug the unbuttoned thing on, and take a moment to pin the empty sleeve up against my unadorned stump.
"Hey! Are you stupid! Get out of there damn you!" Weiss yelled.
The next bit was the really hard part. I needed to find a way to do up little buttons with one hand, my
off hand. I fumbled the first one, thumb slipping and scratching my exposed belly. Again. And again my fingers slipped, unable to maneuver the little thing with senseless fingers that barely seemed to listen to me.
Somehow this was one of the most frustrating things I'd ever experienced. My body had betrayed me more than once, but this was something so small I should have been able to do it. It was
easy it was-
The bathroom door creaked open. "All yours,
princess," Yang practically sneered as she stepped out. "Some of us actually take the time to take care of ourselves, or did you assume a
commoner would-"
She stopped dead, eyes landing on me as I fiddled with the bottom button again. I studiously ignored her, and the sudden irrational twisting deep in my gut despite the spiel I'd just delivered to Weiss. It would pass.
"Hmph. Took you long enough." Weiss's passing comment was punctuated with a slam, and we were left mostly alone. I still hadn't seen Nora.
Silence, for just a moment, then Yang managed to regain control of her body. She stepped closer to me and coughed into a hand. "Do you. Uh. Do you need help with that?"
"I'm fine," I said, but my words were undercut by the button slipping out of my grip again. "I can do it."
"Let me help anyway? I'm hungry, and I know you are too."
I measured my options. Fumble with my buttons until I either managed it or tore the shirt, or swallow whatever pride I had and let her help.
"Fine," I said, and turned around. "Just the buttons, I can handle the rest."
"Even the tie?" Yang said.
"...And the tie," I allowed. I'd only seen a tie tied once, and it wasn't like I'd been paying close attention to my father getting ready for another fruitless meeting with the Mayor.
Wordlessly, she reached out to take the top buttons and get to work. Her cheeks were bright red, maybe from the residual heat left over from her shower. It really was unfair, I marveled; some girls really had all the luck. I thought I'd gotten over it during my cape career, but it was perhaps the relative peace I was experiencing now bringing old feelings back to the front. Her uniform looked tailor made for her, despite the fact that they couldn't have had our measurements, and even despite her clear... endowments that I did not comparatively enjoy. Strong, fast, smart, and beautiful to wrap it all up in a pretty bow.
"So... I've been avoiding asking," Yang finally said, halfway down my shirt. Her fingers had brushed my skin several times, but I forgave her this easily. The kindness was worth it, I supposed. "But... your forehead scars, are they-"
"Gunshot wounds. Small caliber, through and through." The last in a long list of injuries, but only one of a handful to leave a lasting mark.
Her fingers skipped again, scratching my chest, but she rallied admirably. "Damn. And you survived?"
"I did." It was enough; Yang wouldn't understand that if Contessa had wanted me dead I would be
dead. "Have you seen Nora?"
"Uhm, she's probably off spending time with Ren. She woke up pretty early I think..." Yang was leaning down a bit now, focusing on my bottom buttons.
Once she stepped away to grab my tie, I grabbed my skirt and got to work. "I suppose she's Weiss's problem for classes. We won't meet up until combat class, right?"
"Yeah," Yang said, gaze studiously turned away from me as I worked the stupid tube of cloth on. "And we don't even have that today."
"Hmm. That's probably for the best."
I turned, skirt securely fastened and put on my best stoic face as she slipped the tie through my collar. I go out and fight villains and world ending threats in skintight silk, but a skirt is too much for me? Childish.
Weiss chose that moment to emerge, fully dressed and hair not even damp. Must not have been a wash day. Annoyance still fresh on her face, she stared me dead in the eyes, just barely able to peek over Yang's shoulder. She rolled her eyes at us, and turned on her heel. "You two are insufferable. I'm going to go find my partner."
And then she marched out, bag slung over her shoulder. I didn't know what she'd meant by Yang and I being insufferable; she was only helping me with my tie. Yang, though, was still luminescent as she worked at said accessory. "Are you almost done?"
"Yup. Breakfast?"
"Breakfast."
She let go of me and I moved to step away, leading us out to said promised meal.
I was at the door when Yang called after me. "Wait, hold on. There's something I need to tell you."
"What?"
She stopped, mouth halfway open. It snapped shut and she shook her head. "Nevermind. I forgot. Must not have been important."
"Are you sure-"
"
It's cool!"
* * *
If I'd known I would have to take calculus, I wouldn't have taken Ozpin up on his offer. My head swam as the professor, a soft spoken old man called Professor Filigree, immediately began launching into an explanation of differential equations, chalk darting over his board as he simply droned on while facing away from us. I had more important things to worry about than math, and yet…
I peeked over. Yang was following along like it made perfect sense, pen going and face focused. For all I knew it
did make sense to her. She mentioned she'd built her own weapons, and that would take some amount of engineering knowledge...
"Are you okay?" She leaned over to me.
"I'm fine," I lied.
* * *
I hadn't seen any of these titles before.
The Man with Two Souls, Hidden Remnant, The Corpse Doctor. At least our literature professor, one Professor Dusk, wasn't willing to just leap into things, and I would at least be able to keep up with the readings compared to the absolute
nonsense my math class was about to toss my way.
She did, however, decide to do an
ice breaker.
"My name is, like, Livi Ingston. I'm seventeen, I'm a first year student, and my favorite food is ramen, I guess. My hobby is tennis and I pick.... her, to go next.
She was pointing at me, though for the life of me it looked accidental. I took a deep breath and summoned all the skills that Glenn had tried to hammer into my head.
"....My name is Taylor Hebert. I'm eighteen, a first year student. My favorite drink is tea, and my hobby is reading."
* * *
Aura Theory was at least
novel. Now I wished the professor would jump right into it, but Professor Peach seemed content to pass out the syllabus and simply ask us to familiarize ourselves with it while she took turns socializing with students, selected seemingly at random. The list of topics we were going to broach was fascinating.
Eminence Theory, Cellular Energy Theory, Theoretical Semblance Mechanics, a long list, the likes of which I hadn't seen since good old fashioned parahuman theory books.
"Hey, Taylor, uh..." Yang got my attention, voice nervous.
"Hmm?" I asked, already going to flip through the textbook.
"...Peach sure can talk, huh?" she asked with an awkward laugh.
* * *
And at the end of the day, I found myself sitting at a window table in Maggie's shop, nursing a steaming mug of black tea touched with a hint of lavender. I'd needed to escape, the walls of my dorm suddenly oppressive, pressing in.
So I came here to sit under a well groomed fern, my Aura Theory text open and my scroll expanded to cross reference its claims. I'd argued that it was better than being alone, that if I hollowed myself out I would just repeat the same mistakes over and over. I couldn't handle it right now. I'd prefer if they would just haul off and punch each other all ready, at least then all that foul energy would have some kind of release.
At least here I was sharing space with another faunus for a change, though why Maggie wasn't with customers I couldn't begin to say. It felt nice, even despite the uncomfortable feeling I got from the lie. I could always tell when a human was looking just a little too long at my newest appendages.
"They're really starting you off with the strong stuff, aren't they?" She asked, leaning over to flip through my book. "This is heady. What do they mean by 'eminence'?
"So far I've gathered that it's the theory that aura comes from some metaphysical interaction in the body, rather than a discrete organ." I took a long sip of my tea. It sounded ridiculous on the face of it, but I'd wielded power given to me by an extradimensional parasite, so it was hardly the most ridiculous thing.
"I think it's a little silly that people use it to argue that the soul is
real, though..." I tapped a comment on a forum I had up on my phone - scroll. It was like the few cracks who'd argued powers had come from God.
"But isn't that so poetic?" Maggie said with a dreamy sigh, resting one cheek on her hand. "Fighting the powers of evil with your soul bared like that?"
"It sounds like something right out of a romance novel," I grumbled. Maggie just laughed at me.
"And what's wrong with that? Having a little romance in your life is a good thing!" Maggie smiled at me then. "I have a few suggestions. I could lend you some, or we could pop by Tukson's Book Trade and see if he has anything more your speed. I need
someone to talk with!"
"Uhm..." I couldn't find a way out of that one. Rosie, an ever present fixture of the place apparently, was tittering away from her armchair. She would be no help here. "I'll think about it."
"Please, do." She turned to glance back. "I'll let you study. I should really get back to handling the order."
"Okay. Thanks for the tea."
She smiled softly at me and stood, heading back to the back to do... whatever the order was. The silence was nice enough, but I felt suddenly alone in her absence. Absently I tried to flip back through my book, but the words seemed to drift past me. Maybe I should have just dealt with Weiss and Yang's arguing, told them to calm down, instead of just hiding down in the city for an hour or so.
It just felt like too much. That little dorm room, with so little space to move, pressed in on every side by people. People who seemed as ready to knock each other's teeth out as any hero or villain.
My scroll chimed. I reached down to check it.
YANG: Where r u?
I should head back. There were expectations hanging over my head, and I had to meet them. There was no other choice for someone like me. So I stood, tucked my book back in my bag, and banged out a response to Yang as best I could with one hand.
Headed back. Simple.
A thought struck me as I made my way to the door, and met Rosie's eyes for just a moment as she tossed me a goodbye wave. Wasn't she...
"You said you were a... physics major? Right?" I vaguely remembered that she was some smart STEM girl, but the specifics escaped me.
"Mathematics, actually. Physics
wishes they were us. Why?"
It galled me to do, but I needed to succeed at Beacon. I
had too. "I might need your help with my calculus class. I've never been much for pure math."
If only they'd given me a computer class. I probably could have handled that. Why I needed advanced math as a Huntress was beyond me, but they probably wanted to give us a 'well rounded education'.
"Sure. I'm always happy to ramble about derivatives at a pretty girl," Rosie responded with a smile, just behind her mug.
I grit my teeth at the fake compliment. It was fine. I was fine. "Thanks. I need to go."
"I'm here every evening! Just pop by when you need help!" she called after me.
The city passed by in a blur. Maggie's wasn't too far away from the ferry station, and I went blessedly unfollowed and unmolested on this particular evening. The ferry was much the same, thinly populated by a few students coming back from their own little trips out. The castle was a bustle of activity comparatively, but it was easy enough to navigate to the dorms without being seen or bothered.
Yang caught me in the kitchen just as I walked in.
"You're back. I need to talk to you."
"What about? Is it Weiss?"
"What?" she asked, shaking her head. "What, no."
"I know that you two have been fighting, and-"
"No, just, let me talk. I was trying to say this earlier and I chickened out, because it's been so long since I..." She reached up to rub her eyes and groaned frustratedly.
I stayed silent this time. Interrupting someone in the middle of a rant was often poorly advised, and she seemed... serious. More serious than I'd seen her outside of a fight.
"Okay. I haven't done this in a while, because I lived with family and family already knew. But if we're going to be partners, living together, rooming together, you at least have to know and damn whatever consequences happen. Okay. Okay."
"Yang. Spit it out."
"I'm trans." she spat out, managing to stare me directly in the eyes.
I didn't respond. I was processing, working through what she could mean.
"Like... Like I wasn't born a girl. When I came out they said I was a boy. I had boy parts. Well I guess I still have boy parts but I don't like calling them boy parts you know so..."
Oh.
Trans. She'd changed genders. She was paragender the way I'd been parahuman. That sounded ridiculous, even in my head.
"So I'd really like you to respond now."
I said the only thing I could think of. I didn't know enough to say anything else, and after a lifetime of powered bullshit and the various transformations my own body had been through I couldn't really bring myself to care too much.
"Let me know if anyone gives you shit for it."
It did figure that even someone born a boy would be prettier than me, though.
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Wanna see another confession? Check out V2E2: Nighttime Rendezvous on
Patreon. Or just if you wanna yell tbh.
