Pyrite - RWBY Oneshot

This one's a request from a friend irl. Small AU featuring Emerald and Weiss. It's not as action-packed as my usual stuff, but if you like doomed yuri, then you might find it just as entertaining.

Both Dragon's Progeny and Eating Your Weight update soon!

~~~

The air in the dormitory assigned to the visiting students from Haven smelled like floor wax and teenage sweat, a stark contrast to the perfume Cinder Fall wore – a scent of burnt spices and ash that clung to the back of Emerald’s throat.

Emerald sat on the edge of her bed, her posture perfect, her hands folded in her lap. She was perfectly still, a habit learned from years of needing to be invisible, and she stared at the back of her leader as the woman lingered near the window, looking out at the sweeping grounds of Beacon Academy. The shattered moon hung low, casting jagged shadows across the empty courtyard. Mercury was lounging on his own bed, tossing a coin in the air and catching it to stave off the boredom,  metallic rhythm the only sound in the room.

"The firewall is evolving," Cinder said, not turning around. Her voice was low, a velvet hymm that echoed in Emerald's ears. "Watts has informed me that the Schnee Dust Company has updated their encryption protocols for the CCT tower linkage. Again."

"Paranoid rich people." Mercury scoffed, missing the catch. The coin hit the mattress with a dull thud. "What a shock."

Cinder turned. Her amber eyes locked onto Emerald. The thief felt the familiar mix of adrenaline and desperate adoration spike in her chest at the fiery gaze and straightened her spine further.

"It’s biometric now." Cinder continued, walking slowly toward Emerald. "Retinal scans, voice recognition, and a physical handshake from a synchronized device. We won't be able to hack it from the outside. Not without triggering a lockdown that would alert Ironwood’s fleet before the first packet of data was sent."

Cinder stopped directly in front of Emerald. She reached out, her finger tracing the line of Emerald’s jaw. Emerald suppressed a shiver, leaning ever so slightly into the touch.

"We need a key." Cinder whispered. "And the key is walking around this campus, wearing a white skirt and a scowl.”

Emerald swallowed. "Weiss Schnee."

"Precisely." Cinder withdrew her hand, and the loss of contact felt like a physical drop in temperature. "Her scroll has root access to the SDC’s servers. If we can mirror her device, we can use her credentials to bypass the biometric wall."

"I can pickpocket her," Emerald offered quickly, eager to prove useful. "I can bump her in the hall and snatch it. Putting it back will be a bit harder but I think I can manage."

Cinder smiled, but it was a full of pity. “She is a huntress-in-training, Emerald, not a tourist in a market. She'll find you out the moment the scroll goes missing. You can't just steal it. You need access, and time."

Cinder leaned down, her face inches from Emerald’s. Her perfume wafted into Emerald's nose, making the thief's head spin.

"You need to make her give you that time. You need to get close to her and not just physically. Emotionally. She is isolated, arrogant, and desperate for validation, like all nobles her age. A lonely little princess in a tower of ice, waiting to be melted free."

Emerald nodded, her mind already shifting gears. "I'll become whatever she needs."

"Good girl." Cinder straightened up, turning her back on them once more. "And be sure not tto take too long, Emerald. We are on a schedule."

~~~

The Beacon cafeteria was a chaotic ecosystem of clattering trays, shouting teenagers, all undercut by the smell of grease wafting from the kitchen. Emerald sat at a table on the periphery, picking at a plate of greens she had no intention of eating. Her eyes were fixed on a table near the center of the room. Team RWBY.

They were loud. The loudest one – the blonde – was laughing at something and throwing grapes at the younger one in the hood. The faunus girl was reading quietly, somehow ignoring the chaos around her.

And then there was Weiss.

The Heiress sat with a posture that suggested she was afraid the bench might soil her clothes, practically hovering in place above the seat. She was eating with precise, mechanical movements. Food went in, chew, swallow, repeat. She didn't stop to chat or sip her drink; she just ate like the act gave her no joy at all. It was a necessity, not a comfort.

The only break in the routine came in the form of the glances she gave to her team. Every few seconds, her eyes would dart around the table, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face, followed quickly by a look of resignation.

Target acquired.

She analyzed Weiss like she would analyze a safe she was about to crack, taking in her prickly demeanor and the way she was sat just a small distance away from the rest of her team, as if she wasn't quite ready to call them her own. 

Easy to isolate. Emerald though viciously, watching as Weiss stood up, clearly fed up with the food fight that was slowly gaining steam. The girl cleared her tray, smoothed her skirt, and marched out of the cafeteria alone, her nose in the air as she left the chaos behind without a word.

Emerald watched her go, waited five seconds, then stood up.

"Where you going?" Mercury asked through a mouthful of apple. Emerald sneered at him, repulsed by the bad habit.

"To the library," Emerald said, grabbing her bag. "I have some studying to do."

The library was vast, smelling like dust and old paper. It was a smell Emerald usually associated with boredom, but tonight, it spoke of opportunity. It was late, and the cavernous room was mostly empty, save for a few panic-stricken students cramming for midterms.

And Weiss Schnee. She was tucked away in a corner booth, surrounded by a fortress of hardbound books. A holographic display from her scroll hovered in the air, showing complex diagrams of Dust crystalline structures that Emerald couldn't make heads or tails of. Figured that the Schnee would be studying her family's big seller.

Emerald took a breath and adjusted her demeanor, falling into the upcoming role like a veteran actress. She dropped the street-smart edge and the hardness in her eyes. She softened her shoulders, allowing them to slump slightly, conjuring an expression of mild frustration and fatigue. Suddenly she wasn't a possible enemy from another academy, she was just another frustrated student worrying about tests.

Emerald walked down the aisle, her footsteps quiet but deliberately audible. She paused right next to Weiss’s table, looking up at the shelf as if searching for something, then let out a heavy, defeated sigh.

Weiss didn't look up. "If you’re looking for the text on erratic behavior of Grimm in the Vacuo desert, it’s three aisles over, under Zoology."

Emerald blinked, genuinely surprised, then looked down at Weiss. "Actually, I was looking for 'The Socio-Economic Impact of the Great War on Mantle Trade Routes.'"

Weiss paused. She lowered her stylus and looked up. Her eyes were icy blue, sharp and evaluating. "That’s a very specific topic. Second-year history?"

"First year, actually." Emerald lied smoothly. "Transfer student curriculum catch-up. I’m Emerald. From Haven."

"I know who you are." Weiss said, though her tone wasn't hostile. "You’re on Cinder’s team. You did well in the sparring match against Team BRNZ."

"Thanks." Emerald replied, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. "I’m better with a sickle than a textbook, unfortunately. Haven’s history curriculum is... well, it’s not Beacon."

Weiss scoffed, a small sound of superiority that made Emerald want to puke. "Few things are. What exactly is the problem?"

"The problem," Emerald gestured vaguely to the shelves, "is that I don't understand why Atlas – or Mantle, I guess – embargoed their own Dust supply during the siege. It seems counter-intuitive to profit, and it's kind of hard to write a paper on something I barely understand."

Weiss’s eyes lit up. It was subtle, but Emerald saw it. That tiny spark of the arrogant intellectual needing to correct someone.

"It wasn't about profit." Weiss said, her voice rising slightly. "It was about leverage. By restricting the supply, Mantle forced the Valean council to the negotiating table before the winter storms set in. It was a strategic masterstroke, albeit a controversial one."

Emerald widened her eyes, feigning a dawn of understanding. "Oh. So they weren't trying to starve them out; they were trying to buy time."

"Exactly." Weiss said, looking pleased that Emerald got it so fast. She gestured to the empty chair across from her. "It’s a common misconception. Most people just assume Atlas has always been greedy."

Emerald slid into the chair, the movement cementing the first phase of her plan.

"It’s hard to find good sources." Emerald said, leaning her elbows on the table. "Everything here is written from the Vale perspective. It makes the northern kingdom look like villains."

"Most places usually do." Weiss muttered, her gaze dropping to her desk. There was a bitterness there that Emerald filed away for later use.

"I’m struggling, to be honest." Emerald admitted, lowering her voice. "My team aren't exactly the studying type. Mercury thinks history is all 'dead people's problems,' and Cinder is busy with other stuff. I feel like I'm drowning in this coursework."

She looked at Weiss with wide, imploring red eyes. She channeled the feeling of being a starving street rat in the alleyways of Mistral, looking at a baker through a glass window. Hungry. But this time not for food.

"I don't suppose…" Emerald started, then hesitated, as if afraid to ask. "No, never mind. You’re busy. I'll figure it out by myself. Thanks for the help."

She started to stand up, but she didn't get a foot before she was stopped.

"Sit down," Weiss commanded.

Emerald froze, hovering halfway out of the chair.

Weiss sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "If you fail your history exam, it reflects poorly on the transfer program, which reflects poorly on the Academy which is something I can't allow." She looked up, and for a moment, the haughty mask slipped. "And... it is refreshing to meet someone who actually wants to understand Atlas history, rather than just blindly criticize it."

Weiss tapped her Scroll, sending a file to Emerald’s device.

"Here. These are my notes from last semester. Read the section on the Embargo."

Emerald accepted the transfer. Ping. The connection was made. It wasn't the deep sync she needed, just a file share, but it was the first thread of the web.

"Thank you." Emerald said, offering a small, shy grin. "Really. You’re a lifesaver."

"Don't be dramatic," Weiss said, though a small smile carved her lips. "Read. And if you have questions, I'm more than happy to spare twenty minutes."

Emerald opened the file, pretending to read. From behind the holographic text, she watched Weiss go back to her work. The Heiress looked less tense now, her shoulders dropping a fraction of an inch. She liked being the mentor. She liked being needed for her mind.

Emerald allowed a small, genuine smirk to touch her lips, hidden behind the digital screen.

Got you.

Three Weeks Later

The "twenty minutes" quickly turned into regular sessions.

It was terrifyingly easy. Emerald had spent her life learning to read people: marks, guards, victims. She knew exactly when to ask a question to make Weiss feel smart, and exactly when to stay silent and let Weiss vent about her team leader’s immaturity. Slowly but surely, what little edge Weiss held towards her as a foreign student disappeared, replaced with friendly grins and open expressions.

Emerald would admit some partnof her enjoyed it too. She'd rather be around Cinder, of course, but spending time with Weiss was loads better than hanging around her dorm or with Mercury.

That Thursday afternoon found them in the courtyard. The autumn air was crisp, turning the leaves of the Forever Fall forest in the distance into a burning sea of crimson. They sat on a stone bench, textbooks spread between them.

"So…" Weiss said, closing her book with a snap as she turned a interested brow on Emerald. "Polendina’s theory on synthetic aura generation. Thoughts?"

Emerald blinked. She hadn't actually read that chapter. "Ambitious," she improvised. "But kind of morally gray. Creating a soul isn't the same as protecting one. Some would argue what he's trying to do goes against the laws of nature."

That was another surprising upside to these little playdates. Emerald was actually learning stuff. She couldn't spend all of her time pretending to read or study, so half the time, she found herself walking away from the sessions with a head full of knowledge alongside more of Weiss's trust.

It made her wonder if this was what it was like to go to a normal academy. She never got he chance, growing up on the streets and scrounging for scraps, but she always yearned for the type of carefree life that would let her actually attend school. Spending time with Weiss brought back that yearning in a deep, uncomfortable spike of nostalgia.

Weiss stared at her for a moment, then nodded slowly, satisfied by her answer. "I agree. It’s quite unnatural, though not everyone seems to share our options. General Ironwood seems to think it’s the future."

"Ironwood thinks a bigger gun is always the future." Emerald quipped easily.

Weiss laughed.

It was a short, sharp sound, like a bell chine. It startled Emerald. She had heard Weiss scoff, and huff, and sigh, but she hadn't heard her laugh. It changed her face, scrunching her nose and softening the hard angles of her eyes, and Emerald found herself staring for a moment too long as the girl recovered from her sudden outburst of mirth.

"You’re not wrong." Weiss admitted, brushing a stray lock of white hair behind her ear. She glanced at Emerald who hastily tried to make it look like she wasn't staring. "You have a very... pragmatic view of the world, Emerald. It’s different from the students here. They’re all so idealistic. 'Save the world, be a hero.' You understand that the world is messy."

Emerald looked down at her hands. The gloves hid the calluses from wielding her weapons, but they couldn't hide the memories attached.

"I didn't exactly grow up in a castle, Weiss." Emerald said softly. "When you're in a situation like I was, you learn pretty quickly that 'ideals' don't put bread in your mouth. Survival does."

She wasn't sure why she revealed that part of herself. Maybe she was still reeling from he laugh or maybe she subconsciously decided to try and squeeze out a little more sympathy from the other girl. Whatever the reason, it was out there now, and Emerald held her breath, waiting for the negative reaction.

Instead, to her shock, Weiss actually  shifted closer on the bench. Their knees brushed, and Emerald stiffened.

"I didn't grow up in a castle either." Weiss said quietly. "I grew up in a boardroom. And a cold manor that felt like a museum. I was hungry too. Just for different things."

Weiss looked at Emerald, her expression vulnerable. "People think being a Schnee is easy. They think I have everything handed to me. They don't see the expectations. The weight. My father… When he looks at me, he doesn't see a daughter; he sees an asset."

That was it. Emerald's mind urged. The deep hook. This was the moment Cinder had told her to exploit. She was lonely. Use that.

Emerald looked at Weiss. She saw pain in those pale eyes, the same pain Emerald had felt when she was alone in the gutters, before Cinder found her. The desire to be seen. To be valued.

Emerald reached out. She placed her hand over Weiss’s hand, which was resting on the stone bench. Weiss’s skin was cool and surprisingly soft.

"He's wrong " Emerald said. The lie should have come easily, but her voice felt thick. "You aren't an asset, Weiss. You’re... brilliant. And strong. You’re doing this on your own terms. That makes you stronger than him."

Weiss looked down at their touching hands, with surprise, before her expression shifted into something more complicated. She didn't pull away, hesitating slightly before turning her hand over and interlacing her fingers with Emerald’s.

"Thank you, Em." She whispered, and Emerald's heart nearly stopped..

Em… A nickname.

A pang of guilt struck Emerald so hard it nearly knocked the wind out of her. It felt like someone punched her in the stomach. She looked at their joined hands, and swallowed hard.

"We should... get back to the reading," Emerald said, her voice tight. She gently withdrew her hand, lingering for a second before pulling away entirely.

Weiss looked disappointed for a fraction of a second, but she quickly composed herself, the cool mask sliding back into place. "Right. Of course. We need to review the Dust efficacy charts. The best module won't make any sense unless you have them memorized."

Emerald stared at the page, the words swimming before her eyes. She could feel the ghost of Weiss’s touch on her palm. 

It burned.

~~~

The arena was loud, filled with the jeers and cheers of future Hunters. The lights overhead were blinding, humming with high-voltage dust that made the hair on Emerald’s arms stand up. She held Thief's Respite tightly, staring cooly at the student across from her as she waited for the go-ahead."

"Begin!" Glynda Goodwitch’s voice cracked like a whip across the arena.

Emerald didn't move immediately. She stood in a loose, defensive crouch, her weapons held low. Across the arena floor, Cardin Winchester spun his massive mace with lazy arrogance.

"Come on," Cardin taunted, his voice booming. "Show us all what they teach you at Haven."

Emerald’s grip tightened on her weapons. Her instinct screamed at her to take him down, to end this and shut his mouth before he could annoy her more. It would be easy. She could see the openings. His stance was too wide, his s center of gravity was high. She could slide under his guard, hamstring him, and have a blade at his throat before he finished his next sentence.

But she wouldn't.

Emerald Sustrai, the street rat, would destroy someone like him. She'd play his worst nightmares on repeat and cut his throat while he was flailing at shadows. Simple, clean, and efficient.

But she wasn't the street rat right now. She was a simple transfer student from a rival school. And that meant she had to struggle.

She feinted left, firing a shot to distract him. Cardin took the bait, swinging the mace in a wide arc to catch her. Emerald dodged, but she made it look desperate, scrambling back and letting the mace smash into the floor where she had been a second ago. Debris scattered.

"Is that it?" Cardin laughed, charging forward as he finally saw one of the numerous opening she left in her guard.

Emerald parried his next strike on instinct, the metal ringing loudly as the heavy mace slammed into her smaller weapons. The impact vibrated up her arms, rattling her bones. She gritted her teeth. 

Let him hit you. The voice in her head whispered. You have to make it look real.

Cardin swung a backhand with the shaft of the mace. Emerald saw it coming a mile away, recognizing the opportunity. She could have ducked. Instead, she raised her arms in a frantic, imperfect block.

The wood and metal connected with her forearm.

Crack.

It wasn't a bone breaking, but it was close. Emerald hissed, the force throwing her backward. She hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop near the edge of the ring. Her aura flickered red, dropping into the danger zone just from the one strike. Emerald may have been the better fighter, but he aura pool was small. That hit was enough to put her out of the fight, at least we far as the school was concerned.

"Winner: Cardin Winchester!" Goodwitch announced, tapping her scroll. "Ms. Sustrai, watch your spacing. You rely too much on agility and not enough on defense."

Cardin smirked down at her. "Too easy. If this is how all of you fight, then you should drop out of the tournament right now. Save yourselves the embarrassment."

Emerald laid on the floor for a second, staring up at the blinding lights. The physical pain in her arm was sharp, throbbing in time with her heartbeat. As she pushed herself up, cradling her arm, she looked toward the stands.

For once though, she wasn't looking for Cinder. She was looking for Weiss.

And there she was. Weiss was standing in the front row, her hands gripping the railing so hard her knuckles were white. Her face wasn't cool it impassive like usual. She was furious. She met Emerald's eyes briefly, before turning and leaving the stands, causing an uncomfortable rock to settle in the thief's stomach.

The locker room was empty, save for the hum of the ventilation units. Most students had rushed off to lunch, but Emerald sat on a bench, struggling to undo the clasps of her armor with one hand. Her left forearm was swelling, an ugly purple bruise blooming against her dark skin.

"Here." A voice said sharply. Emerald jumped, looking up. Weiss marched into the row of lockers, looking like she was on a warpath. She stopped in front of Emerald, holding a first-aid kit and a specialized canister of Ice Dust. 

"I can handle it." Emerald muttered, feeling odd at the intense way Weiss was staring at her. "It’s just a bruise."

"It’s a contusion caused by blunt force trauma from an idiot with a complex." Weiss corrected with a huff. She sat down next to Emerald, not asking for permission. She set the kit down and reached for Emerald’s arm. "Give it to me."

Emerald hesitated, then extended her arm.

Weiss’s touch was surprisingly gentle. Her fingers were cool, nimble and precise as she applied a gel from the canister. The relief was instant, the magical ice sucking the heat and pain out of the injury.

"As always, Cardin fights like a brute," Weiss said, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "No finesse. He just overpowers people. It’s disgraceful."

"It worked, didn't it?" Emerald said, watching Weiss’s face.

"It worked because you let it work." Weiss snapped, then softened. She wrapped a bandage around Emerald’s forearm with practiced efficiency. "I’ve seen you move, Emerald. You’re faster than that. You hesitated."

Emerald swallowed. "I… got distracted."

"By what?" Weiss tied off the bandage and looked up, meeting Emerald’s eyes.

Emerald almost said something then shut her mouth. She was about to reveal too much. She wasn't sure what it was about Weiss that made it so easy to talk to her, but with every meeting, she found it harder and harder to keep her secrets.

This was dangerous. If she didn't end this soon and swipe the data, she was going to slip before she caught herself. Remember the mission, she told herself.

"The noise." Emerald lied. "It’s louder here than at Haven."

Weiss sighed, but she didn't let go of Emerald’s hand even as she finished wrapping it. She just sat there, tracing the line of the bandage with her thumb. The silence stretched between them, but it wasn't awkward. It was heavy. Charged with something Emerald didn't care to name.

"You don't have to prove anything to them." Weiss said softly. "You know that, right? You don't have to prove anything to Cinder, or Cardin... or even me."

Emerald looked at the girl, staring at her in surprise. Weiss stared back, eyes softer than Emerald could ever recall.

"Why are you doing this?" Emerald asked. The question slipped out before she could check it. "Why are you being so nice to me? We're not from the same school, you know? We'll probably have to fight in the festival."

Weiss stiffened slightly, then looked down at their hands.

"I guess…" Weiss whispered. "I guess I just enjoy spending time with you. I know this started as just a transactional relationship, but more and more I've started to look forward to spending time with you. You listen to me, but you don't just smile and not; you actually participate. Most people can't stand my lecturing."

She looked up, her eyes shining with a terrifying vulnerability. "I suppose all that is to say that I consider you a dear friend, Emerald. Is it so strange that I’d want to help you?"

The word hit Emerald like a physical blow. Friend.

It twisted in her gut, sharp and jagged. Cinder didn't have friends. Cinder had tools. Emerald didn't have friends. She had accomplices. She had bosses. She had marks.

But this... this warmth radiating from Weiss’s hands? The genuine concern in her eyes? It was real. And it was horrifying.

Because Emerald realized, with a sinking sensation of dread, that she didn't want to pull her hand away. She wanted to lean forward. She wanted to spill her guts and tell Weiss everything. From her plans to her allegiances, to the fall of the school Weiss tried so hard to escape to.

What was this girl doing to her?

"Weiss." Emerald started, her voice shaking.

Weiss leaned in closer. The air between them seemed to vibrate. Her gaze dropped to Emerald’s lips, then back up to her eyes, asking a silent question. Emerald swallowed, preparing her answer when–

Buzz.

The sound of a Scroll vibrating against metal cut through the moment like a knife.

Emerald flinched, pulling her hand back as if burned. She grabbed her Scroll from the bench. The screen was lit up with a message. 

Sender: C.

Come.

The warmth in the room evaporated, replaced by a cold chill that settled deep in Emerald’s bones. The reality of who she was and what she was supposed to be doing came crashing back down in an instant.

"Emerald?" Weiss asked, concern knitting her brow. "Is everything okay?"

Emerald stood abruptly, clutching her Scroll. She couldn't look at Weiss. If she looked at her, she wasn't sure what she would do. Her head was swimming; up was down and left was right. She needed to get it screwed on straight and fast.

"I… have to go," Emerald said, slowly standing. "My team needs me, sorry."

"Oh," Weiss said, her voice falling. She stood up as well, smoothing her skirt, her cool mask sliding back into place to cover the perceived rejection. "Of course. Don't forget to ice that arm again in four hours."

"I won't." Emerald choked out as she grabbed her bag. She fled the locker room without looking back, leaving Weiss standing alone in the rows of grey metal.

The walk back to the dorm was a blur. Emerald didn't feel her feet hitting the floor. She felt like she was floating, untethered, drifting toward a black hole.

​When she entered the room, Cinder was waiting.

She was sitting at the small desk, the only light in the room coming from the streetlamps outside filtering through the blinds. She was sharpening a glass blade, the scraping sound rhythmic and grating against the silence. Mercury was gone.

​"You've been a bit distant recently, Emerald," Cinder said, her voice smooth and dangerously low. She didn't look up from the blade. "Is there something you would like to tell me?"

​Emerald froze in the doorway, her hand still on the latch. Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs, and she took a deep, focused breath to keep her cool.

​"I’m just working on our plan." She said, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. "Weiss trusts me but she's super clingy. It’s taking a lot of work to keep the act up."

​"Is that so?" ​Cinder stopped sharpening the glass. She set the blade down with a deliberate clink and finally turned her head. Her amber eyes bored into Emerald, analyzing her. 

Emerald kept her expression nonchalant as she stepped toward her bed, plopping down on the covers. "Yeah. I guess she must have been desperate for friends or something. She latched onto me pretty quick and won't let go."

Every word hurt to say. Talking about Weiss like this felt wrong for some reason. Emerald swallowed her tongue, the organ feeling heavy in her mouth, and refused to say more.

​"Good." Cinder stood up and walked over. Her movements were fluid, predatory. She stopped inches from Emerald, invading her space, and placed a hand on Emerald’s shoulder. Emerald stiffened, though not for the usual reason, and slowly looked up at her boss.

Cinder’s gaze was like a drill, burning its way directly into Emerald's soul. "Then you'll have no problem finishing it." She said softly. "Tonight, Team RWBY have decided to go out and have a little fun in the city. A pep rally, I believe. Weiss, however, has decided not to join them. She claims to have a headache and stayed behind to study."

​Cinder leaned down, her lips brushing the shell of Emerald’s ear. ​"She stayed behind because she is waiting for you to check on her."

​Emerald’s breath hitched and her eyes widened. She shared at the wall as Cinder pulled away. "She... what?"

​"She likes you, Emerald," Cinder whispered, the words dripping with amusement and disdain. "It’s pathetic, really. How desperate these children are for connection. They think the world is kind. They think people are good."

​Cinder pulled back, her hand moving from Emerald's shoulder to cup her chin, forcing Emerald to look at her. ​"Show her she's wrong. Go to her room, comfort her. And while she is crying on your shoulder about her terrible burden of wealth..."

​Cinder reached into her pocket and produced a small, black device. It was more compact than a Scroll but ten times as bulky, humming with a faint, malicious energy.

​"Sync this to her Scroll. It needs to be within three inches for at least sixty seconds. Don’t break the connection until the light turns green." Cinder’s eyes narrowed slightly. "I would hate for you to have to go through all of this again."

​Emerald looked at the device. It was small. Insignificant. But she knew what it was. It was the end of Beacon, the end of the peace these little hunters had been fighting so hard for.

The end of the web of lies she got herself stuck in. Emerald should have been happy, but as she stared at the tiny machine, she just felt a growing discomfort at what it symbolized.

​"Well?" Cinder wiggled the device in front of her face. "Take it."

​Emerald reached out with a trembling hand and took the drive. The metal was cold, biting into her palm.

​"I’ll get it done," Emerald whispered.

​"I know you will," Cinder said, her lips tilting into a sweet smile. She brushed a stray lock of hair from Emerald's forehead. "You've always been so useful, Emerald. I'm not sure what I'd do without you."

​Normally, those words – useful, needed - would fill Emerald's stomach with butterflies and a desire for more. It was the validation she had starved for her entire life. But as she stared at Cinder’s smile, she was just reminded of Weiss’s smile in the locker room. A smile given freely, without conditions.

​The compliment didn't taste like sugar and hope anymore. It felt like she had swallowed a rock.

Two Hours Later

The hallway outside Team RWBY’s dorm was quiet. The pep rally in Vale meant the dorms were ghost towns.

Emerald stood in front of the door, her hand hovering over the chime. She had been standing here for five minutes, warring with herself as her hand hovered over the small panel beside the door. Weiss was in that room. Her target was in that room. She had to do this, no matter how it made her feel.

‘Get it together, Em.’ She chided herself, unconscious using the same nickname that had been given to her on a whim. She took a deep breath, burying the guilt and the doubt, before pressing the panel. 

A shrill buzz rang through the hallway. There was a moment of silence. Then, shuffling footsteps.

The door slid open and Emerald’s breath caught in her throat. Weiss stood there. She was wearing a silk nightgown with a robe tied loosely around her waist. Her hair was down, cascading over her shoulders in a white curtain. She looked tired, and her eyes were rimmed red, as if she had been crying.

When she saw Emerald though, her face transformed. The sadness vanished, replaced by a shock of hope.

"Emerald?"

"Hey." Emerald said, offering a small, crooked smile. She held up a thermos. "I heard you weren't feeling well so I brought you something. You like tea, right? It’s a Mistral blend. I heard it's good for headaches."

Weiss stared at her for a second, glancing between the container of hot tea and Emerald's face. Something passed through her expression, before it suddenly softened and she stepped back, opening the door wide.

"Come in." Weiss said softly. "Please."

Emerald stepped over the threshold. The door slid shut behind her with a soft hiss, sealing them in.

~~~

​The room smelled of lavender and sterile dust—the scent of the Schnee Dust Company air fresheners that Weiss insisted on using. It was a clean, sharp smell, utterly unlike the smoke and grime that usually clung to Emerald.

​Emerald sat on the edge of Weiss’s bed. Her hands were clasped between her knees to stop them from trembling.

​Weiss sat at her desk, cradling the cup of tea Emerald had brought. The steam curled up, obscuring her face for a moment. When it cleared, her expression was open, stripped of all the defenses she usually wore like armor.

​"I didn't think you'd come," Weiss admitted, her voice quiet. "I thought I scared you off in the locker room."

​"You didn't." Emerald said. Her throat felt dry. Every word was a choice, a carefully selected piece of ammunition. "I just... had to check in with my team."

​"Cinder seems... demanding. Even for a team leader." Weiss observed, taking a sip of the tea. "Is everything alright?

​"Yeah it's fine just…" Emerald sighed. "She’s done a lot for me. I owe her."

​Weiss set the cup down and turned her chair to face Emerald completely. "You don't owe anyone your life. Loyalty is admirable, but not when it comes at the cost of your own happiness."

​The irony was sharp enough to cut. Happiness. Emerald looked at Weiss, taking in her pristine white hair and those beautiful, hopeful eyes. Weiss was offering her a lifeline, unaware that Emerald was currently measuring her for a noose.

​"I need to use the bathroom," Emerald said suddenly, standing up. "Sorry."

​"Oh. Of course. Just through there." Weiss pointed to a nearby door.

​Emerald nodded and walked into the small bathroom, locking the door behind her. She leaned against the sink, staring at her reflection. She didn't see a monster, and she didn't see a victim. She saw a professional.

​Get it together. She told herself again, splashing cold water on her face. Do the job. Get the code. Get out.

​She pulled the black drive from her pocket. It was small, cold, and heavy.

​She took a deep breath, smoothing her expression into one of calculated vulnerability. She unlocked the door.

​But she didn't open it. Not really. Instead, ​Emerald activated her Semblance.

​To Weiss, sitting at the desk, the bathroom door clicked open. "Emerald" stepped out. She didn't look like a thief; she looked like a girl crumbling under pressure. The illusionary Emerald walked over to the window, wrapping her arms around herself, staring out at the dark campus with a heavy, burdened sigh.

​"Em?" Weiss asked, concern spiking. She stood up, her attention magnetized to the figure by the window. "What's wrong?"

​While Weiss’s back was turned, focusing on the hallucination, the real Emerald slipped out of the bathroom like a shadow. She moved silently across the carpeted floor toward the desk, her movements practiced and fluid.

​Weiss’s scroll was sitting there, next to the teacup.

​Emerald reached out. Her hand hovered over the device. She could see Weiss walking toward the illusion, her posture softening.

​"Talk to me, Emerald." Weiss whispered to the empty air. "Please."

​Emerald felt a flicker of satisfaction, the pride of a con artist watching the mark take the bait. But beneath it, a strange, sour feeling twisted in her gut.

​Focus! She commanded herself.

​Emerald plugged the black drive into the port at the base of Weiss’s Scroll. She pulled her own Scroll from her pocket and initiated the handshake.

​A soft blue light pulsed from the devices.

​Syncing...  

10%...

​Emerald watched the bar crawl. It felt agonizingly slow. She needed to buy time.

​"It’s just so much pressure."  her illusions voice trembled embling with fragility. "Everyone expects me to be something I’m not. I feel like I’m constantly waiting to disappoint them."

​It was the perfect lie, vague enough to be safe, specific enough to resonate with the girl who had everything yet nothing she wanted.

​"I know that feeling," Weiss said softly, stepping closer to the phantom. "Better than anyone. It feels like you’re drowning, doesn't it?"

​40%...

​Emerald watched Weiss’s face from behind. She saw the empathy there. Weiss wasn't just buying the lie; she was projecting her own pain onto it.

​"I'm not strong like you, Weiss." the illusion whispered.

​"You are," Weiss insisted, leaning closer to the phantom. "You’re fighting so hard. I see it."

​Weiss moved to put a hand on the illusion’s shoulder.

​Danger. If she touched the hallucination, the game was up.

​Emerald tweaked the mental projection. As Weiss reached out, the illusionary Emerald flinched away, turning her back and walking toward the bed, keeping the distance open.

​"Don't." The illusion said, voice thick with shame. "I don't deserve your pity."

​Weiss froze, her hand outstretched. "It isn't pity, Emerald."

​80%...

​Real Emerald’s thumb hovered over the disconnect button. The download bar seemed to mock her. Come on. She begged, Hurry up.

​"Why are you so nice to me?" the illusion asked, turning to face Weiss, eyes wide and watery.

​"Because," Weiss said, taking a step forward, her voice fiercely gentle. "I think you’re someone who is scared. And I think you’re someone who shouldn't have to be."

​100%. Transfer Complete.

​The green light blinked on the drive.

​Emerald yanked the drive out, shoving it into her pocket. She grabbed Weiss’s Scroll and set it back exactly as it had been,before cutting her semblance like a bad habit. The illusionary Emerald by the bed vanished instantly and Weiss blinked, disorientation hitting her hard. 

"Em?" She spun around, her eyes scanning the room, confusion clouding her features. She sensed the shift in air pressure, the sudden absence of the figure she had been talking to.

​She turned all the way around and saw Emerald standing by the desk.

​"I..." Weiss stammered, looking from the empty bed to the desk. "I thought you were over there..."

​Emerald froze. She had dropped the illusion too fast. Weiss was smart; the spatial dissonance would trigger her suspicions if Emerald didn't cover it immediately.

​"I was pacing," Emerald said quickly, stepping away from the desk. She rubbed her temples, feigning the same dizziness Weiss was feeling. "I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm a mess, Weiss. I'm spiraling. I can't sit still."

​She walked toward Weiss, closing the distance. She needed to dominate Weiss’s sensory input so she wouldn't think about the teleporting girl.

​"You moved so fast." Weiss murmured, shaking her head. "I feel dizzy."

​"It's the stress." Emerald said, her voice steadying. "I'm making you anxious. I should go."

​"No," Weiss said.

​The command was soft but firm. Weiss reached out and grabbed Emerald’s wrist. The same wrist that had just stolen the keys to the kingdom.

​"Don't run away," Weiss whispered, looking up. Her blue eyes were searching Emerald’s face, looking for the girl she had just been comforting. "You said you were afraid of disappointing people. You won't disappoint me."

​Emerald looked down at her. She saw the trust. She saw the affection.

​She fell for it, Emerald thought. Hook, line, and sinker.

​So why did she feel like she was the one caught in a trap?

​"You don't know who I am." Emerald said, her voice lower, dropping the 'scared student' act just a fraction. It was a warning, though she knew Weiss wouldn't hear it.

​"Then tell me." Weiss implored, stepping. The gap between them vanished. "I don't care about your past, Emerald. I don't care about Haven, or Cinder. I just care that you're here."

​Weiss’s breath hitched. She placed a hand on Emerald’s cheek.

​"I just care about you."

​Emerald could have stopped it. She could have stepped back, laughed it off, or played the role of the shy, confused friend. That was what Cinder would have told her to do. Keep her dangling so they could squeeze out whatever they needed before tossing her aside.

​But Emerald didn't move. She stood there, frozen by a terrifying curiosity.

And then ​Weiss kissed her.

​It wasn't like the movies. It was clumsy, and tentative, and tasted of peppermint tea. Weiss’s lips were soft, her hand trembling against Emerald’s jaw.

​It was the most honest thing that had ever happened to Emerald.

​For a heartbeat, Emerald closed her eyes. She didn't push Weiss away. She leaned into the touch, her hand coming up to grip Weiss’s waist, anchoring herself. The warmth of it flooded her chest, chasing away the guilt and it's cause. In that second, the drive in her pocket didn't exist. Cinder didn't exist. There was just the quiet hum of the dorm room and the girl who wanted to save her.

​Then, the reality of what she had just done crashed down on her.

​The mission.

​Emerald gasped, pulling back as if she’d been scalded. She stumbled backward, her hand flying to her mouth.

​Weiss stood there, eyes wide, cheeks flushed a brilliant crimson. She looked dazed, but happy. "Emerald... I..."

​"I have to go," Emerald choked out. The words felt like they were tearing her throat.

​"Wait," Weiss said, stepping forward, a shy smile forming. "We don't have to rush. I just wanted you to know–"

​"No!" Emerald shouted. The volume made Weiss flinch. "You don't understand. I can't do this."

​I can't want this. She thought, panic finally rising, real and suffocating. I can't want you.

​She backed toward the door, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Every instinct was screaming at her to stay, to sink into that earth and safety that she'd never felt before. But all she felt was the drive in her pocket against her hip, and the guilty remind that none of this was real.

​"Emerald, wait!" Weiss pleaded, confusion replacing the happiness. "What did I do?"

​"You didn't do anything," Emerald whispered, her hand finding the door panel. She looked at Weiss one last time, memorizing the image of the girl she had just betrayed. "That's the problem."

​"Goodbye, Weiss."

​Emerald hit the panel. The door hissed open, and she ran. She ran down the hallway, her footsteps echoing like gunshots, fleeing the scene of the crime before she could make the mistake of regretting it.​

~~~

The sun rose over Beacon Academy, bathing the spires in a golden light that felt almost blinding. It was a beautiful day – the kind that made you believe nothing bad could ever happen.

​Emerald stood on the rooftop of the dormitory, the wind whipping her green hair around her face. Her chest felt hollowed out, as if she had left her vital organs back in that dorm room.

​Cinder was there, standing at the precipice, looking out at the fleet of Atlesian airships hovering in the sky like steel vultures.

​"Is it done?" Cinder asked, not turning around. Her voice was expectant, hungry.

​Emerald reached into her pocket. Her fingers brushed the cold metal of the drive. For a second , a single moment in time, her hand cramped. She thought about throwing it off the roof, about letting it fall and crushing it under her boot.

​You don't owe anyone your life, Em. Weiss’s voice echoed in her head, clear as a bell.

​"Emerald " Cinder warned, her tone sharpening.

​Emerald flinched. The conditioning ran too deep. The fear of Cinder was a cage she hadn't found the key to yet. Slowly, reluctantly, she pulled the drive out.

​"I got what we needed." Emerald said, her voice sounding quiet and far away. "Root access. We have control when we need it."

​Cinder turned, snatching the drive from Emerald’s hand. A slow, predatory smile spread across her face, a look of pure triumph.

​"Excellent," Cinder purred, slotting the drive into her own scroll. The screen lit up green. "Watts will be pleased. You’ve done well, Emerald."

​Cinder’s hand rested briefly on Emerald’s shoulder. It was meant to be a reward, but it felt cold. Heavy. It didn't feel like Weiss’s touch.

​"Come." Cinder said, turning back toward the access door. "We have a tournament to rig."

​Cinder walked away, her heels clicking on the concrete.

​Emerald didn't follow immediately. She turned back to the ledge, looking down into the courtyard below.

​Students were milling about, heading to breakfast, laughing and complaining about exams. And there, near the fountain, was Weiss.

​She was walking with her team, looking pristine in her combat skirt. But she wasn't listening to them. She was scanning the crowd, her head turning, eyes searching.

​Her eyes drifted up.

​Across the vast distance, through the noise and the wind, she locked eyes with Emerald on the roof and slowed to a stop. ​A look of relief washed over her face. She didn't look angry or betrayed. A smile broke through her worry, hopeful, forgiving, and Emerald's fists clenched as she raised her hand, offering a small, tentative wave

​She mouthed something, and ​Emerald was thankful for the wind roaring in her ears so that she didn't have to hear her heartbeat.

​She stared at Weiss, the girl who fell for the same lie that Emerald had told a thousand times. She looked at the Atlesian fleet above that she had just turned into a weapon. The guilt poured through her, choking her heart and squeezing breath from her lungs.

For once, Emerald didn't feel proud about a success con. She just felt like a shitty person.

​"Are you coming?" Cinder called from the doorway.

​Emerald took a breath. She couldn't stop what was coming. She couldn't save the school and she didn't want to. But as she looked at Weiss, Emerald made a choice.

​"Cinder." Emerald said, turning around. Her expression was hard, the mask of the thief firmly back in place.

​Cinder paused, hand on the door. "What?"

​"Weiss Schnee," Emerald said, keeping her voice steady. "When the chaos starts. When the Grimm get in…"

The woman raised a dark brow at Emerald's hesitation. ​"Yes?"

​"Let me handle her," Emerald finally said. "She's attached to me and I don't want to deal with the distraction if she comes looking, so I'll just put her down at the start to save us the mess."

​Cinder studied her for a moment, eyes searching for weakness. Emerald held her gaze, channeling every ounce of coldness she had learned on the streets.

​Finally, Cinder smirked. "How very unlike you, Emerald. And here I thought Mercury was the sadistic one "

​"I guess he rubbed off on me." Emerald said, pushing down the bile in her throat. Cinder's smirk grew.

​"Very well." Cinder agreed, pushing the door open. "She's yours. Just make sure she doesn't get in our way."

​Emerald nodded before turning back to the ledge one last time. Weiss was still there, waiting for a wave back.

​Emerald didn't wave. She didn't smile. She raised her hand and made a sharp, cutting motion in the air.  Go away.

​Weiss’s hand lowered slowly, confusion and hurt clouding her face, but she slowly turned and followed her team toward the stadium.

​Emerald watched her go, the knot in her stomach tightening. She hadn't betrayed Cinder. She delivered the weapon that would bring Atlas to its knees. But as she walked into the shadows to join her mistress, Emerald touched the spot on her waist where Weiss had held her.

Emerald would burn the girl's world to the ground, but she'd save her from that fate if she could. She owed it to her for showing her what a normal, happy life could be like.