Well, this is it—the end. I can't say I'm happy about this fact so much as I am happy with the result, but this is how it must be. A story cannot go on forever.

Now, that dogma aside, I think I'm going to cry.

This story has been the culmination of a year and a half's worth of free time. Thousands of hours have been poured into its writing and thousands more into editing, but I can say without a doubt that these hours, each and every one of them, have been some of the most rewarding I've ever lived. Fan fiction is not a lucrative hobby—spending these hours here could, logically, be spent on original work. But the thing I've had to take into account is the emotional value this story holds, the drive which makes this novel a passion project. Is it worth my time? Is it worth the time I could be spending elsewhere? The answer is yes, absolutely.

So, this will be the final chapter of Valence. I consider nineteen to be "the end" in terms of drama, but this is where the bow is tied. This chapter is, admittedly, on the shorter side compared to those previous, but this is purposeful. Like chapter one, which was a mere 6,000 words before a 20,000 odyssey, the events here will be conclusory, tying up a few things, explaining a few others, and even punctuating this tale on a bit of a nostalgic note. Whatever the case, I'm happy with how this turned out—this chapter, this story, this whole fan fiction experience.

At the end of this chapter will be an author's note, like usual. However, this one is important and verbose. There will be gratitudes aplenty and reflections as is the norm, but there is something else located near the very end worth noting. I cannot hint at what it is here, but if you haven't read an author's note before and enjoy Valence to any extent, I ask you to please read the final paragraphs at the end.

Here we go. Valence chapter twenty. Thank you so much.

Chapter 20: Equinox

A withering breeze swept across the quiet steppe of Beacon Academy. Autumn had arrived just as quickly as summer, coming as something of a shock now that classes were back in session. But this was inevitable; it had always been. Blake understood from the moment she first stepped foot on the outbound airship there would be an inescapable end to her three months' respite. However, the events between then and now certainly left an impression upon her senses of importance and time.

The world felt different somehow, as though it had lost both its splendor and dullness. Rather than a disorienting nebula, the city of Vale seemed unsurprisingly placid. It was no longer the city-on-a-hill Blake had once dreamed about on this very cliff and it was certainly not the same corrupted fortress her propaganda claimed, but it did seem familiar, albeit largely still incomprehensible. What had once been a singular mass of light and energy now glittered as easily definable clusters—she could see the roads for what they were now, the skyscrapers and suburbs as distinguished districts between delineations of shadow.

And as the day's final light burned away on the furthest fringes of the horizon, the sun conceded with a final roar of magenta and orange. That was the bay, shining opposite this present cliff: the esplanade and its surf-shack turned romantic night out, the stores and shops now silenced by the annual return to cold. Closer still were the commercial and business districts, inspiring the megalith towers of neon and yellow and as well of memories of tours turned sour. Blake knew she had not explored every corner of this city, nor would she ever come close given the chance, but she could see certain patterns within this now scrutable sight. The luster of newness had worn off, making this once intimidating sprawl mellow to a place the Faunus could perhaps call home.

Home was a strange word. Its dictionary definition was naturally finite, denoting both a place of lasting sentimental value, greater than that of a house, and as well a sanctuary where all the world's troubles were simply locked out. However, the term was, in practice, much harder to place for a girl whose allegiances had shifted far too many times.

There was a shadow in the valley of trees, a pause between the lights and noise. A secluded ranch house, larger than expected but cozier than a new friend's offer had any right being, rested now after months of bustling activity and infrequent but ever-divisive storms. Somewhere in those shadows, away from the city proper, had been Blake's home. But was it still a home? Compared to the town she had been born and raised in or the shifting camps of her past decade, was this summer's bastion truly a home or just another residence deemed adequate?

The answer was obvious in some ways, difficult in others. If someone were to ask where Blake considered her present home to be, she would answer "Vale" easily and without afterthought. But her trip to Sierra had elicited an undeniably similar response. Her parents certainly factored into this novel sensation and she would admit a sense of nostalgia for those three long days, but even then, the mountain country did not seem all too permanent. It shifted in her vision, leaving only memories of parks and restaurants, fireworks and cab rides. All the dinners and lunches she had spent with her parents, all the conversations they had and the moments they shared seemed insignificant to her highlights—and if a home was not consistent in its effect, whether positive or negative, then was it truly a home?

This was her dilemma, albeit a relatively unimportant one since the entire argument was a distraction from something more pressing. But Blake supposed the question did need an answer.

No, Sierra was not her home, at least not anymore. However, she could not say Vale was, either, since she held no stake in its people or culture. There was indeed a link between the two and the familiar feelings they provided, but the young Faunus was still wary of articulating how. Despite the cliché which undoubtedly played a part in her hesitation, Blake did, admittedly, believe her home existed wherever Yang was. She did not blush at the notion or its inherent overuse, but she wanted to avoid depending on perfection to only find sorrow behind love's façade. Regardless, Yang was her solace just as she was Yang's, too, and this was unchanging.

Blake sighed, shaking her head. She was procrastinating. Although this current bench and vista were indeed alluring to her sense of adventure, she could only permit so much time for distraction. Closing her eyes, she took in the cool wind for one last moment, feeling it comb across her cheeks and through her raven hair and eventually stop against the jacket Yang had long ago given her. Blake had had her chance to rest already; now was the time for a return to form.

Laid open on her lap was a black, leather-bound book, dead-language calligraphy scrawled across its covers and pages upon pages of writings and drawings hidden between. The goal for tonight was to recount and summarize the important events of the past three months. She had tried earlier in June to do the same yet unfortunately fell to memories of storms and counter-protests. But this was different. Certainly, the train heists and propagations of her misguided decade had shaped her life quantifiably more, but this summer and all its rollercoaster emotions spurred an even greater effect in her recovery. This Faunus was where she wanted to be now—happy, at home, and in the company of earnest friends—and, as such, she wanted to document her experiences for posterity's sake.

Unfortunately, the cause of her initial distraction was the result of this documentation. Seven pages, front and back, had already been written tonight, but now she found herself uncertain. Up until the moment where her mother had called unexpectedly, her narrative had flowed unbidden, but she found herself eventually stuck on the subjects of Sierra, her parents, Yang's birthday, and her own confession of love. It was all too much to properly express in any concise fashion, lest her emotions be trivialized as some textbook reactions.

The young Faunus pulled her jacket closer and put her pencil back to paper.

"Sierra wasn't at all how I remembered it being," she wrote. "In a way, it was like the White Fang camp I fled to: foreign, unwelcoming. But I had Yang with me, and that proved enough. She led me through the town, through the park and the motions of recovery, similarly to how she showed me her home. Only a few landmarks sparked memories, but the place was largely a regret with my old home being the biggest of all."

She was getting nowhere. With descriptions like these, she was not getting to the point fast enough and was therefore wasting time and paper. Blake released her pencil and conceded to her writer's block while she planned a way around it.

Every action and event of this summer could be traced back to Yang. Her invitation had started it all, that offer for a change in pace, and from that innocent gesture they had found more than they could have ever expected. Love was decidedly key to their break's positive outcome, but this had only formed by their respective growth, which was the crux of Blake's writing woes.

Blake had grown stronger emotionally, less dependent on guilt for her own moral pursuits. She acted bravely for those around her now instead of those whose memories she could never appease, and because of this she was sure the term "coward" could no longer be applied. Yang, meanwhile, had softened her guard to be normal and vulnerable, though not in any way that made her less…well, Yang. At the very least, she could be sunny and invincible for Ruby's sake while simultaneously strengthen herself by admitting weakness to Blake. Together, they supplemented their shortcomings and buffered their edges, making them feel safe and whole. But this could not have been achieved without Yang's warmth as their initial catalyst.

With this in mind, Blake continued. "I was scared of it and what I'd left behind. I thought my mom would hate me like she did the White Fang and my dad would have grown quiet with my absence. This wasn't the case at all, but I was still scared. If ever there was a time when I was a coward, it was then, on that ride from Sierra's airport to their house. Yang looked after me, though, and made sure I followed through—I should have realized this was a sign of something more to her affections, but I couldn't keep my eyes off the road. Now I know what she was trying to teach me there:"

She paused. Admittedly, the supposed lesson was only a matter of drama on paper—a means of drawing the paragraph to a close. Still, the situation did hold some value and her mother did say there was a lesson to everything. She thought for a moment, furrowing her brows as her left foot unwittingly played with the brace around her right, before concluding, "It felt better by the end to have put the worries of the people I care about before my own."

A faint, prideful smile curled at the corners of Blake's lips. Perfect.

The young Faunus sat there atop the bench she had frequented in her freshman year, wrapped in her partner's lighter jacket and with a smile to her ease. Every so often, a sniffle would interrupt her renewed writing pace, but this was purposefully ignored. After her reckless triumph between Bumblebee and the storm, she found herself bruised, broken, but not entirely out of the fight. A boot was strapped around her sprained ankle, leaving her unfortunately absent for the first two weeks' sparring sessions, and she was dealing with the latter end of a cold from hours spent consoling her partner beneath torrential rains. It was funny, she thought; her last request to Weiss had been to keep Ruby from catching a cold, herself.

Although this was only their first night back at the academy and classes were to resume the next day, Blake could not help but feel left out. She was, of course, elated that everything turned out well with Yang, but the fact that she could not stand beside her in combat and test how much they had improved together was disheartening. But she would not lament—that went against her newest never-look-back mantra. Instead, she would continue to smile and sniffle and cough at the pages below as she wrote them over.

After she arrived at the park and its inner glade, after she consoled Yang and shook the blueness from her eyes, everything had turned out all right. They did, however, stand in the rain for a while and ended up moving the shattered bench to the shotgunned tree for Blake's benefit, but Yang had smiled. There was some expected distress from the blonde as to how Blake could have gotten herself killed, but she did sit beside the Faunus and sheltered her from the storm.

Fortunately, returning home proved far easier than leaving with Yang driving again. That had certainly been a relief. In spite of all they had gone through, all their arguments and misunderstandings, everything seemed normal when Blake wrapped her arms around Yang's waist and pressed against her matted hair. When she closed her eyes and ignored the throbbing in her foot, it could have easily been summer again and that ride could have been their first back after the initial confession. Yang was warm and fearless then—frowning, no doubt, but also welcoming of her girlfriend's presence. No matter how tenuous their relation still was, they were back together and seemed to fear future separation more than anything else.

As soon as they reentered through the garage door, Yang was immediately tackled by Ruby. The girl was so torn between cheering and tears that all she could do was hug her sister tight, and when Yang returned the favor with apology in mind, she almost crushed the poor leader. It was doubtful either minded.

Blake, meanwhile, had collapsed in a tired, satisfied heap. Almost immediately, Weiss moved to offer a hand, but this was declined—at that moment, all Blake wanted was to rest. The search party was called off, the team's mired clothes were laundered the next day, and the Faunus had been fortunate to curl up to Yang's side for the night. The rain continued to pound against the sisters' roof and even a few claps of thunder shook the walls and fixtures, but Blake knew she had never slept sounder. Something about their victory made her feel as though nothing could make them run again, and thus she felt assured to have Yang's trust for the closing week of their break.

Now they were back at Beacon, having arrived this afternoon. Weiss was vocal in her relief to finally get back to work; Ruby and Yang, not so much. Despite this, all four teammates showed equal parts melancholy and pride. Their summer's life had been a simple one for all intents and purposes, but they had, together, won against their demons. Their dorm room was the same as last year's, Team JNPR seemed to be in their usual high spirits, and their respective class schedules were picked up minutes after landing, largely to Weiss' request.

This left the rising freshmen to struggle and adapt to their initiating shock while the older classes wandered about and readjusted to their home for the next nine months. Ruby and Yang had gone off to the gym, partly to make up for their forgone regimens and partly to help Ruby train. No matter what the young girl argued, Yang was adamant about teaching her how to punch, ensuring the White Fang could never take advantage of her again. In actuality, however, this was meant to discourage any unwanted advances from Weiss, even if the heiress was not the type to be so forward. Currently, the girl in white was asleep and recovering from her purportedly common travel headaches, leaving her teammates to "Stay out."

Blake set her pencil down and smirked. For once, she felt no regret. Indeed, the summer had some low points, her parents were still only receiving one call from her per week, and Yang was not yet entirely healed, but the Faunus was eager to move on. The summer also had its high points, her parents were actually relieved to hear from her again, and Yang had returned to her flippant, energetic self.

All in all, this summer had been the best Blake could remember. By doing nothing and lounging around the sisters' house, the Faunus found a chance to breathe. Friendships were forged, alliances sealed, and her greatest worries about the White Fang were simply let go. But most importantly, she found Yang for who she really was—a partner, a girlfriend, an unconditional love, and a best friend to shield her from the storms. This was more than she could have ever asked for, and yet she had been brave enough to seize the opportunity. They were in love now, and Blake could not help but feel at home.

Her eyes danced gratefully across the glittering cityscape. Vale was not home so much as Yang was, but it was still an adventure to fondly admire. But as the Faunus watched the neon sea with an almost childlike enthusiasm, her bound ears perked to a noise far away.

"Can we bring some tape with us next time?" a distant voice squeaked. "My knuckles hurt, and I don't think I'm ready for bags that heavy."

"Sure! Just gotta find some, first. But, just so you know, dad never gave me tape when he taught me how to box, and look how I turned out!"

Blake could not help but grin. There was no one else at the school whose voice and gait were so blaringly confident as Yang's. For this, the girl in black quietly closed her journal and located a white envelope hidden behind its cover. She turned and squinted, trying to find her partner amid the darkness.

"Yeah, I'm looking. But I don't really see anything impressive."

Yang scoffed, happily if Blake's ears were working correctly. "You've been hanging out with Weiss too much. If I could get you to punch as hard as you spit…Man, you'd actually be good at fighting."

"Hey!" giggled Ruby. "I'm already good. You're just mad 'cause your weapons aren't as good as mine."

Two shadowy figures walked along the path from the gym, towels draped around their necks and a bag in the shorter's hands. The taller threw her hands up in faux admittance. "You got me there. But what'll happen if you don't have Crescent Rose with you? What if she breaks down in the middle of a fight? What'll happen if someone breaks her?"

Ruby gasped. "You take that back!"

"Hey, I'm just being careful. You gotta have a backup plan just in case something bad happens." As they got closer, Blake could see the taller shadow's head turn to the shorter. "Machines break all the time, Ruby, but you don't."

"Not all machines break, though! Like, do you ever think Bumblebee could break down?"

They stopped for a moment and the conversation paused. "Watch yourself," Yang warned. "Them's fightin' words." Another giggle was her only response, leading to her own laugh and grin.

Suddenly, the shadowy two stepped out from the marble arches and struck Blake blushing as the moon danced playfully across her girlfriend. Three months ago, the young Faunus would have never dared to entertain the thought of Yang being beautiful, keeping to reticence and her expected state of aloofness instead, but now the only adjective that came to mind was "angelic." The natural pallor of the blonde's bared skin seemed to glow by the waning umbral light and her wide smile and fervent lilac eyes seemed to wash away the possibilities of despondency or blue. The Faunus' breath caught and her heart began to flutter, and as those raring purple orbs locked with her amber own, Blake knew she was Yang's.

The blonde's gaze never departed from her partner's as she wrapped an arm around Ruby. "Hey, uh, do you think you could walk yourself back? I gotta go see—"

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Silver eyes joined her sister's as Ruby saw her teammate. "Lovebirds," she smirked, sending a quick, energetic wave to the girl on the bench.

"All right; now you're pushing it. Run on back to Weiss and annoy her instead, will ya?" A smile from the girl in red was met with a kiss to her forehead. "And make sure you get some sleep if I don't come back soon. You're gonna hurt in the morning, and I know Weiss'd kill me if you missed your first day back just because your hands ache."

"Don't worry. I'll go even if they do."

Yang simply looked at her for a moment, an almost motherly smile on her lips. She looked as though there were a compliment to give, but she let it go. "Good. Now go get showered and head off to bed. I'll be back soon."

Following a hug and exchange of the gym bag from the younger to the elder, Ruby walked away, smiling and with hands cradling her sore knuckles. Both Blake and Yang watched her for a moment, holding the same thoughts of protection, albeit to different degrees, and made sure she found the correct path back to their dormitory. Eventually, the young girl passed from their lines of sight, but the two still watched, hoping for a moment that everything would be all right. They then turned to each other.

The awestruck blush Blake had held vanished as the what-could-bes turned to what-weres. Yang was here now, stopped a couple dozen meters away and smiling tentatively. Ruby had not received a façade from her sister, but now neither did Blake. The blonde did not seem particular upset, but worry betrayed her calm. Despite this, her lips rose to a bashful smile upon seeing her partner's greeting expression. There was nothing to worry about, Blake quietly assured. All she wanted to do was talk.

With a shake of her head, Yang's smile brightened and she moved forward, slowly at first but soon enough giddily.

In response, Blake turned back to the city, hoping to recreate her past air of mystery and perhaps lighten the mood. No matter her intent, however, equanimity was impossible to achieve now that Yang was returning. With every blade of grass crunched beneath her sneakers, every plan and quip on the Faunus' mind fell away to pure excitement.

The natural warmth of the blonde fighter soon washed over this cliff-side view, seizing the cold altogether and rendering her gifted jacket a mere lavender-scented comfort. In no time at all, her rustling movements came to a halt directly behind her partner. The shorter girl craned her neck back and stared up into the cheerful smirk she had so dearly missed. It told of acceptance, of home—of a pain now passed and a recovery for which Yang was grateful. Blake returned the gentle expression and caught her girlfriend's eyes in an impromptu dance, soft amethyst unerringly locked with stable gold as they each searched for their summer's promise.

"You mind if I sit here?" Yang asked. "Could use the company right about now."

Blake simply held her there for a moment, staring and smirking. In part, this was meant as a teasing effort to delay the tacit inevitable, but this was only a marginal reason; in truth, she was awed. That this was no mirage, and that Yang was smiling again, whether a façade or not, was to be appreciated. The Faunus sniffled. "Sure, if you don't mind getting sick."

"Of you? Nah." As Blake rolled her eyes at the deflection, Yang moved around the side of the bench. In an almost imperceptible way, her gait was off—afflicted by a stutter of some sort—as she brought her bag to rest beside her. She sat down unceremoniously and flashed a grin Blake's way. "You'll get sick all over me, I'll get sweat all over you. Either way, it's all good."

With a wink, she bent over to the side and began to rummage through her belongings, putting her towel away and making sure everything was in order. Given the opportunity, Blake stared. Had it not been for the blonde's running shoes, she would have been wearing what passed as her pajamas, but the distinction hardly mattered. The svelte musculature of her back tensed beneath her haphazard ponytail, earning an appreciative blush from the Faunus whose gaze travelled lower, down the spine she had so often pressed against and eventually to where Yang undoubtedly wanted her to look. However, the moment Blake's eyes lowered to such a point, Yang sprang back to her regular posture, causing her partner to nervously do the same.

"Glad to see you're not completely turned off by the idea," Yang mused, looking out at the city. "Makes my job a whole lot easier."

In her hands, she held a golden chain. At the center of this chain was an amber-stone pendant which soon came to rest upon her chest, its clasps clicking quietly behind her neck. Ever since Blake had given this to her, she had worn it nigh religiously, forgoing her patented scarf to show the world how much she was invested. But the blonde only looked into the cherished stone for a moment before turning to Blake.

Her gaze suddenly dropped to the distance between them as her apparent zeal cooled. She smiled hesitantly and maintained this distance, but the fact that she indeed smiled still comforted the Faunus. "Thanks, kitten," she whispered. "Thanks for…everything."

Blake's expression softened, too. No matter how confident Yang appeared, she carried an unmistakable guilt, and only now that she was alone with her sole confidante could it all be admitted. To some extent, this was reasonable, being that both she and Blake had done wrong by each other and acted poorly in their apologies. But the entire point of their summer had been to release these regrets and move on with their lives. Still, Yang's guilt continued to claw away at her confidence, and this was grossly unacceptable. Blake reached out and placed a hand atop her partner's two, feeling the sticky sheen of her recent workout and squeezing upon it.

Nothing further was said on the matter. Every conversation of or around what went wrong during their final days in Vale had already been exhausted. But this was fine; it was evident from her muscles' relaxation that Yang did not want to talk about it anyway.

As such, they simply sat there for a moment, silent because it felt right. Both girls' eyes trained almost longingly on the distant city as Blake's hand rested in warm company. Long strands of smoky clouds cut laterally across the darkened sky, shrouding an unfortunate couple constellations but leaving all the others to twinkle dully beside their airship counterparts. They were all so far away. With the school's relativistic barrier, this was true for just about everywhere, secluding the students from outside lives and the youthful freedom of family; but this was okay. Just so long as Blake could hold to Yang and brace with her against the autumnal cold, everything would be okay.

"It's…funny," Yang said quietly, earning her a curious look. "Normally, back-to-school time sucks, you know? Just knowing you're going back to something you don't really like drains the life out of you. But I think for the first time I'm…happy with how the summer went."

"You mean you have no regrets?"

"Blake, you know that isn't true." The two looked at each other. "You and I both have regrets—about a lot of stuff. And we say that we don't because…I don't know. It makes us feel better? Because it's easier than having people worry for you?" She shook her head. "I know you regret the White Fang. You might not regret the path they took you on or the things you learned, but I knew that you really hated them as soon as we boarded that ship to Sierra. Heck, you were more scared of your parents than all that stuff before Beacon. And me? I'm still freaking out about what happened last week. I regret it—I mean, I'll admit that I acted like a total idiot. But that doesn't mean I can't be happy with how things turned out."

Blake smiled. Her partner's self-talk was improving. "And how did things turn out?"

"I got a second chance. Well, a third. Actually, maybe it was my forth…You know what, let's just say that I'm on my ninth life right now and put it at that." Yang grinned, pushing her topmost hand into the Faunus' lap. For some reason, her other hand remained stationary, clenched as a fist that seemed to contradict their easier mood. "You and me got another chance, and I think I learned not to waste it."

"So what you're saying is nothing has changed?"

Yang paused, considering something for a moment before raising her eyebrows impishly. "Well, you chasing after me in Bumblebee was, like, the coolest thing anyone's ever done for me. And maybe I have the hots for you now because of it—not that I didn't before!"

The linked hands shifted to softly hit Yang on her thigh, Blake rolling her eyes all the while. "Not funny."

"Nah, it was totally funny! I mean, don't get me wrong; that night really was the scariest of my life, but you gotta be able to joke about these kinds of things. Otherwise, you're just putting yourself at a disadvantage way down the line."

She made sense, and Blake would admit this, but still. It just was not appropriate for the moment. "Perhaps we shouldn't joke about it quite yet. I'm still trying to sort myself out."

"Gotcha. A little humor's good in moderation, but you never wanna let the joke run away from you." Blake looked down and nodded, doing so to conceal her laughter that was just so malapropos. In kind, Yang's smile widened eagerly. "I'll give it a week," she conceded. "I missed that, by the way."

This raised a quizzical brow.

"That weird thing you do with your lips. You know, the look that isn't 'plotting how to kill you in your sleep' or 'plotting how to kill you with this book.'" Blake shook her head, her laughter becoming increasingly harder to contain. "To tell you the truth, part of the reason why I wasn't feeling too great last month was because I couldn't make you smile. I mean, I could, but only when you felt sorry for me. That just wasn't good enough."

"Well, for what it's worth, I can assure that you don't need to worry about that anymore. It seems your humor's come back in full, back to its usual subpar quality."

A bark of laughter escaped Yang's lips. "Subpar? Try god-awful. I mean seriously. That first joke didn't even make any sense, but we still laughed at it because I said 'run away.' We're both passengers on the S.S. Sense of Humor, and we just steered ourselves straight into an iceberg of unfunny."

"How poetic. But you do know the passengers of a ship don't usually steer?"

"Yeah, well that's just life, Blakey. Sometimes you don't get to choose your way and the ship just sails itself." She was given a flat, albeit amused look. "Also, I was trying to weasel my way out of that joke. It didn't make much sense, either."

Blake had missed this levity. She had missed this friendship. The last month felt almost like a black hole, pulling each and every point of light from a possible situation and never letting go until she fought against it. This mirth and positivity, whether of objective quality or not, was what Blake had fallen for in the first place, and it felt good to have it back.

"I'm glad you're back, Yang. I missed you so much."

For a moment, the blonde seemed confused, but this moment soon passed and the context was regained. This caused her to smile in warm understanding and close the gap between them with a fist still clenched in her lap. "Me too," she said. "This was really all I wanted—this, right here. And to think you had to chase me halfway across Vale to get it through my thick skull."

"And I'd do it all again. I hope you know that."

"Oh, I do. Trust me, I do. I just don't know whether to be concerned or impressed."

This situation hardly called for crying—neither girl was particularly downtrodden or joyous to the point of exaltation—but Blake found it incredibly convenient how well her cold masked a tearful sniff. She rested her head on her partner's shoulder, cheek pressed firmly against the warm skin. She felt as though restating her promise of fidelity would create a sense of closure, but her mind instead clung to silence. By saying nothing, she would disrupt nothing. As such, the silence would linger after all, letting the sick, injured, previously cold girl cuddle up to the sunny figure beside her, squeezing her fingers and relaxing under the lazy kisses her ears were given.

"Oh, right. I saw Jaune and Pyrrha today," Yang said, thankfully changing the subject. She waited a moment to see if Blake would respond, but all this yielded was a finger brushed against her thumb. "They still aren't together, if you'll believe it. Like, at first I thought Pyrrha was just covering the whole thing up because, you know, she's Pyrrha. But she seemed kinda frustrated at herself when I asked if she made a move.

"I was like, 'So, let me get this straight. You invited tall, blond, and clumsy to spend three months in another country and with your parents, and you didn't even think about asking him out?' After that, she was all over the place. She said she couldn't even think about it because they were training so much—which I'm pretty sure was like two days out of every week. Then she said she's waiting for him to ask first because 'It's just how things are done.' Yeah, sure. Then she even tried to tell me how she didn't want a relationship because that'd only keep Jaune away from Weiss. I mean wow. Girl's got it bad."

There was a parallel to make here between Pyrrha's romantic shyness and Yang's relationship fears, but Blake did not have the heart to mention it. Instead, she moved the discussion away from why the two in Mistral could not act upon their emotions to something more uplifting. "It sounds like she really loves him, placing Jaune before herself. It's definitely self-effacing, but I know she means the best."

"For sure," Yang agreed. "But the thing I don't get is how she can get straight A's without cracking a book but still be denser than Ruby when it comes to people. Apparently, they spent a lot of time out on the beach since her parents' house is by the coast, and every time they were out there together, she saw Jaune looking the other way. I know you know what that means because you do it all the time. But guess who doesn't get it?"

"Pyrrha."

"Bingo. She thought he was just checking up on her, blushing like crazy when I asked her about it. And, honestly, knowing him, that's probably all that was happening."

"Have you spoken to him yet?"

"You bet your ears I did! Blake, when you have a story as juicy as this, you keep on it. I am seriously this close to seeing if Weiss has any hidden-camera type stuff on them because I can't tell if Jaune's lying or not. He said he really was making sure Pyrrha was okay, and he did seem confused when I asked him about it. But on the other hand, you've seen the way he looks at Weiss."

"I have," Blake said. "But have you? It's not like he's leering at her or doing anything explicitly crude. He's just…obsessed."

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, he isn't actually checking her out or anything, so I will give him that, but he's always got that cartoon jaw-drop thing going on whenever she's around. You can't tell me he wasn't doing the exact same thing to a girl who looks like Pyrrha." Yang blinked. "Actually, you know what? You probably could. Maybe they're both clueless and I'm just overthinking this."

"One would hope."

"Yeah, it just sucks for them, you know? Being so close but so far. Still, if he's gonna keep chasing after Weiss and hurting Pyrrha's feelings, I can only hope Ruby lets him down hard."

"You know she won't."

"Yeah. She's a better person than me, that's for sure." Blake shifted, prepared to argue against this and preemptively soothe whatever worries Yang had, but the blonde simply shook her head. "Blake, I've been saying that for a long time, even before we met. There's a reason why she skipped ahead two grades and kept us all together."

Reluctantly, Blake let this go with a sigh. "Fine. But what about the rest of JNPR? Have you seen Ren and Nora yet?"

Yang perked up at this. "Oh, right! They were actually on the same flight as us."

This was returned with a look of surprise.

"Yeah, I guess they were staying in Vale, too. But on the other side of the city. Nora's grandma lives there and—"

"They went together?"

"Well, it sounded like Ren didn't have anywhere else to go. But apparently he's known Nora's grandma for as long as she has, so it was like a second home or something."

"And I assume you nosed into their romantic lives, too?"

Another laugh and kiss came as her response.

"Nah. I don't really care what they get up to—that's their business. The only reason why I pick on Jaune and Pyrrha is because, well, how could I not?" Blake nestled closer to her, by now forgetting about her journal and the note thereupon to instead focus on this fortunate return to form. And if Yang's reciprocated movements were anything to go by, she seemed just as willing to do the same. "But I'm not gonna force them into anything. After seeing what happened to Ruby when I joked about her, I think I'd be better of spectating for a while."

"And what exactly did happen to Ruby?"

"A fate worse than death, Blake. She's dating Weiss." This elicited a quiet giggle from the girl beside her. Yang smiled wider. "I never thought Ruby would be the type to go for someone like her. Honestly, I didn't think she'd even be into dating after she built Crescent Rose. But," she drawled, "I'll admit that she could do a whole lot worse than that spoiled princess. At least she's rich."

No matter how poorly Yang spoke of her frigid teammate, Blake understood the two held a mutual respect. This was, of course, hidden behind their purposeful "hatred" of one another, but it was audible in Yang's voice that she felt happy for her sister. Eventually, she would come to her senses and let Ruby be her own woman, dating Weiss how she wished and growing up in the process, but, for now, the blonde was content to hold on while she still could.

"They're going to be happy together, Yang. They need each other to grow."

Suddenly, the taller girl pulled away, looking confusedly at her now pillowless partner.

"You've helped Ruby a lot and will continue to do so in more ways than you could possibly imagine, but so will Weiss. Where you keep her sheltered, Weiss will show her how the world is. Where you teach her enthusiasm, Weiss will teach her tact." Fortunately, Yang did not seem upset. In fact, Blake thought she appeared somewhat intrigued. "And, likewise, Ruby will open more than a few doors for Weiss—melt her heart, be the hero, teach her what it's like to be an actual human being."

"And you know so much about being human."

"Considering how I spent nearly a decade hating humanity and learning to justify it? Yeah, I'd imagine I have a somewhat decent grasp. That, and this summer certainly helped gain a sense of it."

Yang simply looked at her for a moment, an unreadable glimmer to her eye. "You're adorable, you know that? It's like you always have to find the right answer for everything."

A faint heat burned across the young Faunus' cheeks. She could say as many affectionate assurances as her mind could dream up, but she still found herself baffled by Yang's.

However, she had grown since her early days of fluster, bolder and less inhibited. With the distance Yang had created between them and with the hand still locked in her own, the only reasonable assumption was that the blonde wanted her to follow. And though Blake's mind raced for some salient compliment to one-up Yang's, her body thought differently. The glimmer in her partner's eye, the smile at the corners of her lips, and the faint, partially lidded tiredness of her nighttime regimen sent a signal to the Faunus' better judgment.

No words would be spoken, no apologies, no compliments; instead she would prove herself brave as a means of both competition and gratitude for Yang's coming home.

Blake scooted across the bench and leaned in. Blonde brows raised in honest amusement as the quieter girl's lips pressed insistently against her own; but Yang never once minded. In fact, she leaned in just the same and pressed against the girl she loved, removing her hand from its present entwinement and re-entangling it in the hair behind the Faunus' bow. The embrace simply hung there for a moment, Blake admiring the sweet softness of her girlfriend's kiss and Yang chuckling lightly into the response she had been given. It was a thank-you and a welcome, a promise and an acceptance. And even if things had gone sour during their final month of vacation, there was nowhere else either girl wanted to be than somewhere with each other.

When they eventually moved apart, separating with a pining pop, they did not dare move away. Foreheads collided with an unmentioned thump and the pairs of gold and lilac held firm in their tractive locks.

"You're pretty cute, yourself," Blake breathed at last, finding her words uncharacteristic but oddly adventurous, too. She wanted more. "Everything's always a game with you, but you just make it so much fun to play."

Yang's laughter fell back to a simple, unbridled grin. "Oh, I could get used to this side of you. Kitten's got claws." To emphasize her point, the hand buried by Blake's ears began to scratch, earning an appreciative sigh and another quick kiss.

This was soon followed by the young Faunus shaking her head and freeing herself from the potentially addictive hold. However, as she sniffled and resumed her regular posture, the blonde followed, resting upon the junction between her girlfriend's neck and shoulder and hugging her tightly. "I love you, Blake," she whispered happily, snuggling closer. "I really lucked out with you as my partner. Thanks for rescuing me."

There had always been something to the girl's lavender scent which made Blake feel calm—calmer than usual, that is. The jacket she wore carried it, her bed back home smelled of it, and now, with the mane of flaxen hair tickling her chin and nose, she felt absolutely at ease. "You rescued me first," she admitted. "The crowds, the coffee shop, the trip to Sierra, and even from myself. I love you, too, Yang, because you never gave up. Everything we've done, everything we will do will be worth it for moments like these. You're worth everything I have to offer and so much more."

She felt her partner's aura rise, pushing out waves of blushing heat that made this first day of fall seem like those first memories of summer. They had come so far to achieve something so simplistically beautiful. A year ago, Blake would have never thought it possible, but now she held Yang Xiao Long without fear, alone and at the precipice of many.

Smoky clouds danced along the midnight sky, rolling in from the northern bay and passing by without a sound. Far away, household lights began to dim, heading in for the night and incenting their neighbors to do the same. Slowly, the suburbs of this momentous city winked out, casting shadows over the terminal forest areas and thereby shrouding any chance of spotting home. Similarly, the windows of the dormitory hall began to show signs of curfew preparation. Some students rushed about to finish their unpacking while others simply relaxed beside their missed friends and teammates. Beacon's ballroom was yet alive, however, with the sounds of unwittingly nervous hunters-to-be, but Blake knew all too well their stress would inevitably goad them into passing out. At the end of it all, she would be awake with Yang, both girls looking out at the cheery downtown and individually reminiscing upon the same moments.

Blake's hand moved on its own volition to hold her partner's back, straying unintentionally upwards and resting in the blonde's ponytail. The Faunus noticed this eventually and had half a mind to release the mane from its hair tie's capture, but she decided against. There was a difference between boldness and insensitivity; boldness was a kiss when the mood was just right, insensitivity was altering Yang's hair in any way. So, she settled on a compromise and sought to find how Yang liked it when her scalp was scratched.

The result was a laugh. "What? Do you want me to meow for you?" the taller girl joked. "Because, just so you know, I'm not above it!" Blake chose silence as her response. Certainly, she was glad Yang felt better and had indeed found this comment humorous, but silence just seemed appropriate. Yang, however, felt differently. "So," she playfully drawled, "what were you reading before I so rudely interrupted you?"

With Yang's return to confidence came the rebirth of her characteristic tenacity. It had started earlier with Pyrrha's interrogation then likely moved on to Ruby and whatever reasons they had to speak, and now it was Blake's turn to take the brunt of her partner's long-restrained talkativeness. But conversation was just as fine as quiet, she supposed. "Perhaps it's a bit too late to question that, don't you think?"

"Nope!"

Blake smirked. "Please tell me you don't plan on giving that speech again."

"Nah. Just trying to show an interest in the things you like. You know, girlfriend stuff." With a hand wrapped around her partner's waist, she squeezed. "That, and I'm honestly interested. I mean, who goes outside just to read when they can barely walk?"

"Well, I wasn't exactly reading."

"Yeah, I know. You were writing in your diary. I'm talking about that letter."

On instinct, Blake tensed. "How do you know about my journal?" Regardless of her imminent intentions, this knowledge was surprising and regrettably premature. Perhaps Yang had spied on her? Perhaps she had even read it?

"Blake, I have a socially awkward little sister who likes to hide stuff from me. I know all about diaries—what they look like, where you'd stash them, the stuff you'd write in them. The moment I saw you pull out that fancy leather thing, I was pretty sure what it was. And with the way you take care of your other books, I know you'd never write in them unless they were made to be written in." The hand in Yang's hair ceased its motions while the one atop the journal and letter clenched. This did not go unnoticed. "But don't worry. I haven't touched it. I haven't even read Ruby's!"

For some reason, this did not come as a reassurance. Indeed, the book held information which could place Blake at the scenes of far too many White Fang atrocities, giving easy evidence and testimony to prosecute her, but this incriminating factor was not her present concern. Rather, the lack of surprise disappointed her greatly. She sighed. "Yang, the letter's for you."

"Ooh! A love note? Blake, you shouldn't ha—"

"It's not that simple." In an instant, Yang was rendered silent. She pulled away to her partner's chagrin, sitting up and frowning concernedly. "What it really is…" the girl in black closed her eyes, "is a foreword."

"Wait. If this is gonna cause more problems between us—"

"It won't," corrected Blake. "At least, I hope not. This is a foreword to my journal. It's not a diary, it's not a collection of the boys I liked or the schoolwork I hated. This is a first-person recounting of my life leading up to this point. Every mission, every rally, every name and face of the people I lost are recorded here, bias and all. And I want you to have it, Yang. I want you to know everything about me so I can no longer hide anything from you. Secrets pushed us away in the first place, and I want to make sure that never happens again."

"Blake…"

"This is what I want. The White Fang's behind me now, and I never intend to go back, even if they reform. You probably won't like the things I've written, and I can almost guarantee you'll look at me differently afterwards, but it needs to be done. I have nothing left to fear, and neither should you."

This was not how she envisioned the gifting process going. Like that jubilant night in the middle of her Sierra visit, Blake expected some sort of awkwardness to accompany her offer, but she knew the end result would be acceptance. However, the blonde did not even look at the leather tome, making this whole situation uncomfortable. Nevertheless, Blake's steely gaze kept.

Yang reached up to scratch the back of her head, almost opening the fist she held but correcting herself quickly. "That's…brave of you, kitten. Really. I wish I had the guts to do something like that, but…" Her assurances trailed off. "I'm sorry. I can't take it."

The Faunus' brows knitted in confusion. "Why not?"

She was baring her soul to Yang, mimicking the way her partner did so in the park. If this was not the way to prevent future misunderstandings, then what else could she do? There was no doubt in her mind that the cause of all their ailments was somehow traceable to the White Fang's effect, and there were fears and tactics used in their separation that linked directly to those of the organization. But why was Yang declining this? Why was she not moving on?

"I told you I haven't even read Ruby's diary. And that's not because I haven't found it—she leaves it out so much I stopped putting it back on her shelf—it's that I don't want to read it. Those are her secrets, her thoughts. If she says something bad about me, let her. If she starts worshipping Weiss one day, I mean, I'd be a little concerned, but it's not like I'm gonna find out. The same thing goes for you. Don't get me wrong, I'm totally honored you trust me like that, but that's your diary. Share some stories with me if you want, but don't make them mine."

For a moment, Blake felt hurt, as though her heart meant to shrivel inside her. But this ebbed with a quick kiss to her cheek. "Kitten, it's okay. I wanna learn all about you and unpack all that baggage you have to carry, but we don't have to rush. You said it yourself: the reason we were struggling was because we spent too much time together."

Blake looked down. This was true, but she hated to admit it.

"And don't worry. I'm not saying we're gonna spend less time together. I mean, we probably will now that classes are starting back up, but, Blake, I'm not kidding when I say you're my best friend. I'm gonna spend every free second I have with you because I like being around you. And even if we spent too much time together this summer, I don't regret any of it. All I'm saying is that I want you to tell me the stories, yourself. Not some book. That way, I get the info straight from the source." A wave of warmth radiated out from her as she grinned. "And I'll get to tell you some of my stories, too! We'll just take it easy."

An ember of relief flickered in the Faunus' mind. Whoever claimed Yang to be dull or brutish was categorically wrong—Weiss was wrong and even Yang was, too. She was using Blake's words against her and turning a negative situation positive. It was just like their earliest days at the academy, where the uncertain introvert was pulled into the wild misadventures of Yang and her younger sister. Now the blonde offered a place of respite to shield her girlfriend from the hectic world. The idea that their history defined them—where they had gone, whom they had met—now seemed laughable in a way, at least compared to Yang's confidence. They knew each other for who they were in this moment and who they always would be, and Blake loved her for looking past her history.

This ember began to glow and a smile came with it, for as Blake looked back to her partner, she no longer cared about her gift. That golden chain was more than enough to prove just how far they had come. "Okay," she agreed. "Just do me one favor."

With a faultless smirk, Yang nodded. "Anything."

"Take the letter. It will allude to a few events deeper in my journal, but," Blake blushed yet continued to smile back, "it also doubles as a love note."

"Well, that's a different story now." A soft glow spread across this cliff-side view, a fiery projection of an emotion far giddier than the blonde's façade expressed. "You know, you're the first person I've dated who's actually written me a love note, and, coming from you, I know it's gonna be something great. It's like middle school all over again, except this time I'm not all moody and ignorable."

"Ignorable, no. But moody?"

"Hey! What happened to 'too soon?'"

Blake nudged the girl with her shoulder. "You happened."

Suddenly, it was as though a miniature sun were burning into existence here upon the granite bench. Although Yang laughed and commented on what a terrible joke that was, her aura flared to illuminate each and every blade of dewy grass, making the two of black and gold shine just as bright as any tower on the horizon. Blake laughed with her, free of guilt and cold and wanting nothing more than to stay this way forever. Eventually, however, a warm spot would tap against her hand, then another and another. It was raining, but she did not much mind because Yang was here and always would be.

The Faunus pulled away for a moment, shedding her given jacket and draping it over her belongings. These leaden wisps above hardly scared her any longer; even the possibility of storms or thunder seemed insignificant. Right now, all she wanted to do was rest her head against Yang's, take in the summer's final rain, and revel in her normalcy. And this is what she did.

The shower came as nothing heavy nor cold, instead being of a welcomed warmth only added to by Yang's auric glee. Their laughter had died down, their positions had moved closer, and despite the doubtless trouble this water would cause their clothing and hair, neither girl's grins strayed from the other's. Blake could still see shadows of what had gone wrong, glowing sapphires which spat hateful propaganda to anyone who would listen, but she also saw a means of moving forward. She held nothing but love for the girl beside her and was certain Yang felt the same way. They were fortunate to have each other and took solace in the irony this situation presented, simply basking in the moment as the world fell to silence.

Blake's ears suddenly perked. She had heard something but was not sure what. With her eyes still trained on lavender orbs, she had missed Yang's fist moving outside her vision. However, what she did see was a slight dilation of her pupils, a microscopic frown, and an almost invisible shudder as Yang learned Blake was on to her. The Faunus' ears reacted again, this time noting a plainly audible snap. The girl in gold gave an obvious lie of a smile before pushing the little velvet box off the bench and into the hole of her gym bag.

"What was that?" the Faunus asked.

"Nothing." Yang shrugged, clearly trying to act nonchalant in spite of her partner's dubious awareness. "I'll tell you later. Now's just not the right time."

Blake let the matter go. Just as how her journal had been declined for a slower, more intimate approach, she understood that this particular secret would be unveiled in time. "All right," she accepted, wiping a matted bang to the side.

There was a moment of pause between the two, Blake turning her gaze up to the clouds and the harmless weather which came with them while Yang simply stared, transfixed upon her girlfriend. In a way, this felt nice, being admired as the center of attention. It made the Faunus feel almost human, as though she were just a run-of-the-mill person with a mere bow on her head. But she could also take pride in the fact that she was special to someone, that she was the genetic outlier in the grand scheme of life but be unquestioningly loved for it. She turned back to her partner, smiled softly, and placed a hand atop the now unclenched fist.

"Yang?" she asked, bringing the sunny girl back to reality. "Are you ready to head in?"

It seemed there was a lot going on in the girl's mind, judging by her initially glazed look that fell away upon the question. She nodded, grinning by way of lips and light. "Yeah, kitten. I'm beat. Long day, long summer; I just can't wait to get back into the swing of things."

"You and me both."

With this, the two stood, Blake taking extra precautions to keep her papers dry. She had planned on giving Yang her letter now, but she figured it would be safer to do so when they got back to their room. She wobbled for a moment, still not used to her boot and sneaker combination, but Yang quickly reached out to stabilize her, leaving only a dull ache in the Faunus' foot.

"Careful now," said Yang, slinging the strap of her bag across her shoulder. "Girlfriend or not, you're still my battle buddy, and I can't have you out of the fight for another two weeks."

"It's fine. I'm actually feeling a lot better. I walked all the way out here, didn't I?"

"Maybe you did, maybe you didn't. Either way, I'm not letting you walk back."

"What—"

Before Blake could protest, Yang dipped down and swept her off her feet, catching her knees with one arm and her back with the other. The Faunus, her metal brace, her heavy tome, and an expression of sudden shock were lifted up without the slightest of hesitation. Yang was carrying her as she would either a baby or a bride, but Blake quashed this particular thought immediately. "Right. Now that I have your undivided attention, I can talk to you about that thing I meant to bring up in the first place."

A few seconds and blinks later, adjusting to this new lateral position, Blake eventually smirked. "We really have to work on your segues."

"Sure, but that comes after." The blonde waited a moment, watching for her partner's permission to go on before getting to the point. "So, homecoming's in two weeks. You wanna go?"

The answer was obvious but came after a small amount of pause. "Are you sure you want to go public with this? Ruby and Weiss are choosing to—"

"Ruby and Weiss are choosing to be quiet because of Weiss. And, surprisingly, I agree with her reasons. But we don't have to worry about reputations or collateral damage like she does. It's not like we're shouting our relationship from the top of a mountain or anything, we're just doing the same thing we've done all summer. Besides, I still owe you a dance."

They began to move away from the bench and vista, Yang carrying Blake back to the path with no effort whatsoever. This gave the Faunus some time to consider before at last she said, "Yeah, you do. All right, we'll go public. I can't wait to show you off to everyone."

"Reduced to arm candy," Yang tutted. "Blake, I thought you knew better than that."

Making sure her jacket was adequately wrapped around the journal, the girl in black nestled closer into her partner's neck. "Don't pretend you don't like it. You'll be doing the exact same thing to me."

"You bet I will! I'm gonna brag on you so hard the White Fang will be the least of your worries." And she meant it. For the first time in a long time, Yang was visibly exuberant about the prospect of another date.

"My hero," Blake quipped, voice even and flat.

"No, Blake," her partner said. Radiant warmth spilled across the rainy way, instantly drying all that was in their wake. "You're my hero." They laughed and later cried.

Yang leaned down and kissed her, admitting tears of long-suppressed joy. But when Blake closed her eyes and leaned up into the embrace, she smiled as those joyful droplets rolled across her cheeks. A gripping flutter took hold of her heart, hitching her breath and flushing her cheeks, as the Faunus melted into the warmth of her home.

It was her own little romance novel, this summer of memory. From her early days of insecurity, from the fear of crowds to the fear of herself, Blake had found honor in moving both forward and onward. The White Fang would never be entirely behind her with her parents again before her, and those she had failed and lost would never be forgotten so long as she had others to protect. But there was indeed levity in her near future. With Yang beside her and a surrogate family at her back, the crowds all seemed partible, the storms seemed quiet, and the sun shined always brighter. Whether or not she was victorious did not matter. She had won and had found safety in her world of hate.

The final lights of Beacon Academy's dormitory winked out. A seasonal wind gusted up the vertiginous slope, leaving no further warmth for the coming winter; but this was fine. It was not the summer which gave them their love but instead the closeness and camaraderie they each willingly shared. Through battles and quiet, future hardships and lazy lulls, their bonds would be tested and proven unyielding. For they had survived the tumult of Vale and Sierra, the rigors of their own clashing effacements, and still, in this end, they held to one another not for necessity but for comfort. It was incredible, this bond they shared, and no force on Remnant could ever tear them apart.

Pain and happiness, suffering and rage, death and life; powerful in their own rights and infinite in combination. Such was existence when modeled after the many versus the singular, but found often in the relative subatomic exchange between those singular who form the many. A paradox in this regard, love was the bond that made these individuals coalesce and divide, breaking the norms of their believed characters and spurring action when else there was quiet. A metered gaze and ebullient grin formed the opposition that so binds as valence shells allow. From this came pain, but so too happiness and in cyclopean amounts. There was suffering at the most fundamental level a psyche could admit and there was the rage to fight back and defend.

Fairytale endings march forward, ahead of the many and seen only by the individuals as faraway and achievable, yet impossible in singularity. Death would come—it came with their life—but the shell would be complete, guarded, unbreakable.

Yang,

If you're reading this, then I made the right decision. It's always been difficult for me to open up and admit I was wrong, but I'm glad I took the effort to do so. And I'm glad you did, too. Phrasing all of this, even with the eraser I didn't have before, just seems so daunting with all the things to thank you for and moments to remember, but I'll do my best—I owe you that much. I know you know all the clichéd one-liners and could probably spot them from a mile away, so I'll spare you from them and speak from my heart.

I picked you for a reason. You weren't the strongest. You weren't the smartest. You weren't the fastest and would have almost certainly got us caught, eventually. You were loud, energetic, devil-may-care, and there was always a soldier's bitterness behind every one of your jokes. You were never perfect, and I think you knew it, but that never stopped you from taking on the world all by yourself. I could relate.

The whole notion of us versus them, me versus you was never a healthy way of thinking, I don't believe, but we did so anyway because it was the only thing that made sense. You with Ruby against your father, me with the White Fang against my parents, we wanted to prove we could change someone's world. When I was a girl, nothing made sense. There was an extra set of ears on my head, but apparently it was accepted. There were accepted groups of people living out in the fringes, dying in droves, but apparently that was not my fight. Yang, I was angry; I made it my fight. Deluded, I campaigned another's warpath, stealing documents and propagating lies because it seemed conducive to greater change, until I pushed myself too far forward that the figurative bike fell from beneath me. And that was not the end of my fury, only the point at which it turned the other way.

When I first saw you with an Ursa at your back, I didn't see a human. You could have been a Faunus, and I would not have looked at you differently. You were in trouble, about to be killed, and in that instant of hesitation on the tree line, the past ten years seemed to disappear.

I'm glad I made that decision. Jumping out and committing to four years of, at the very least, forced friendship should have proved I was no longer a coward. And although I might not have believed it, myself, I proved it to you. Ever since, I've seen salvation in your eyes. The mere fact that you tolerated and found me appealing did wonders for my self-esteem. Of course, we do have our moments where separate corners will be needed, but can you believe it's been a year already?

With my journey to the White Fang and my separation from their cause and all the moments of shifting character between, I dare say this summer trumped them all in importance. Dating you—loving you—has meant more to me than all my mistakes combined. Even though it's only been three months, paling in comparison to the years of hatred I locked myself into, I can say with the utmost confidence that what we've done together has changed me more than anything else. I've grown because of you. I've matured, trended happier, lost innumerable inhibitions when it comes to conversation, and you even brought me into your family. You're stronger than the entire White Fang, I hope you know that.

So, why give this to you? We know each other well, our highs and our lows, and learn more every day because we really do care. This book is my life—my stories, my dreams, my fairytale aspirations—and I want you to have it. I could keep it bottled up inside me to fester and break free at some inopportune time, or I could let you have it now and give you the whole truth. Let nothing stand between us, and we'll only grow closer.

Something changed in me this summer. I might have opened up, conquered my fears, or disproved my cowardice, but those are mere byproducts to something much greater. I feel safe around you, within your tight hugs or with you in my own, and I wake up every day rested, as though I'm a new person. I'm happy, Yang. I'm happy with the way things are. It's like I've reached the end of a maze: tired, broken, but with enough courage to strike the Gordian knot. Maybe this is the distraction I first thought it was or maybe you truly have freed me, taking my past away and paving a new future I can always look forward to. Whatever it is, I'm happy.

You're an adventure, Yang, better than all the ones I've read. And the mere thought of being near you and sharing in where this adventure will take us gives me goosebumps. I want you to have this book so we can move on and experience the lives we've never had. This is the trust I place in you because I know it in my disillusioned heart that you would only cherish it. So, read on. We only have more stories to tell.

I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.

Respectfully yours,

Blake B. Belladonna

You know, it's strange. I've written novels before—this is my eighth completed with Edelweiss as my seventh—but nothing quite of this caliber or length. I don't feel particularly empty or sad, but I don't feel happy, either. There's a tinge of pride welling inside my heart and a feeling of accomplishment that comes with completing such an endeavor, but I guess Valence was so long and intensive that I haven't quite grasped the gravity of its absence yet. It's like it still has another chapter to go. I have a feeling this will hurt in a few days.

So, that was Valence. Long-winded and occasionally melodramatic, I'm happy with how it turned out. A bit sad, too, but that comes with the occasion.

If the final two paragraphs before Blake's letter did not make much sense, I apologize. Those were written at the same time as the end of chapter eleven—you know, Blake and Yang's first kiss beneath the fireworks and their confession thereafter. Both were before their times, somewhat grasping at straws that didn't exist yet, but I'm happy with the way they turned out. In the case of these particular paragraphs, there wasn't much change from the original writing; it was always supposed to be a summary of Valence's larger themes with a somewhat vague recapitulation as to what happened in the narrative. In these regards, I think it worked well, but I don't fault you for perhaps thinking it was incoherent. Those, more than any of the other paragraphs in this story, were not meant to be an easy read. Hopefully, they weren't too terrible.

There's also the matter of the letter. Because I had that scene from chapter eleven written months in advance, I wanted to add another layer of symmetry between this chapter and the climax—why this was, I can only say an enjoyment of patterns. Whereas chapter eleven began with a letter, one now unread by Yang, this chapter ends with another having been purposefully written to be handed over. Moreover, I thought it would be fitting to close the novel on a Blake soliloquy since she is the focal perspective. Like the two paragraphs before it, it was a summary; but unlike those paragraphs, it also told where the two will go.

Now, on to reflections. For this author's note, I think I'm going to cover the novel overall instead of the regular chapter-by-chapter synopsis since this instalment was fairly self-explanatory. Unfortunately, this was a long story and there was a lot to it. I'll cover some bigger, overarching stuff that immediately comes to mind, but if you have questions about anything I didn't answer, feel free to send me a private message or ask in a review.

For a long time, I've felt as if Blake's character development has stagnated somehow, even if I purposefully emphasized larger points of her characterization. That's why this chapter felt a bit fresher for me. Aside from the fact that she and Yang are now past their stormy woes, we get to see the outcome of all their summer's turmoil. In the Faunus' case, she has become, as she stated, happier and uninhibited in some ways. Compared to who she was in chapter one—that is, quiet, uncertain, and a follower of whatever leader life presented—she's become a stronger person.

As many times as "I" (see: the narrator, not me) have called her a coward, I never thought she actually was. Of course, she could fall into a cowardly mindset from time to time, letting the flight response of "fight or flight" take over or fearing responsibilities for the consequences they would bring, but she's always been brave. Otherwise, she wouldn't have become a huntress. However, there were deficiencies in her character at the beginning of this tale as there were for every member of Team RWBY, but by the end, she turned them around and made a better life for herself.

She has become bolder and knows this in her heart. She has become confident on demand and praises herself for this. A peace of mind was established for the young Faunus, and this had always been her overarching problem in life. Whether this change can be attributed to herself or Yang, that's not mine to say, but the fact that she has changed and become markedly happier is evident. Her flirting with Yang, the act of trusting her with the journal, and her newfound ability to let things go show progress which can't be ignored. This story was never meant to be about one aspect of her personality or another but instead about her character overall and its multiple facets.

In this way, I believe Valence was a success. She began with a friendship only by title and shared goals but ended with five figures in her life she could rely on unconditionally—Weiss, Ruby, Lilian, Cole, and especially Yang. If that isn't change, this adjustment to society and acceptance of allied company, then I don't know what is. Either way, I'm happy with her journey.

As for Yang, her story truly began a bit later than Blake's. There were hints to her unease in the earlier chapters, her admittance of not wanting to get in Ruby's hair for another summer (Chapter 2), her emotionality when speaking about her mother (Chapter 7), and her hesitation to leave Blake alone (Chapter 9). But I don't think it really began until chapter thirteen when she returned from Sierra to find Weiss dating her sister. In any other context, you could chalk this up to pure overprotectiveness, but now we have a reason for why she worries.

I really liked writing her character because it felt like a healthy change of pace from how I usually portray characters. All the idioms and double contractions (ex: shouldn't've) would otherwise be heretical for me, but she just felt lively, and I hope that came across to some degree.

However, having a character be sunny and care-free 100% of the time just doesn't work for a narrative as long as this—and with the addition of Blake having her crises dealt with, the other main character had to have something, too, right? That's why she had a shakable confidence in this story. By all means, she will continually be portrayed as never-say-die and tenacious, but, for the sake of drama, she had to have a reason to be so outwardly positive. And having that reason put a strain on her positivity made for an enjoyable writing experience.

So, her endgame in this story was to learn how to cry, to understand that the responsibilities which previously required her to seem invincible were no longer applicable. But I don't mean to say crying makes her weak. Rather, by letting emotion take over, whether it be joy or sadness, she's able to be herself instead of simply Ruby's sister or a stand-in mother. By being able to cry and not being seen as weak by Blake, she's able to move on from her past stressors and vent her remaining unhappiness. Simply, she can now act completely natural around Blake and understands that she won't be judged for it.

All in all, I'm really happy with how their characterizations turned out. From the beginning, Blake and Yang were fair opposites of each other—one being quiet and tentative while the other was sunny and enthusiastic—but by the end, this proved just as true. I never wanted them to become mirror images of each other, making the same jokes and wearing matching clothing, because that's just boring from a narratological standpoint. I wanted them to consistently attract and repel one another but gradually move closer to a sort of synchronized orbit. The goal was to keep them disparate while flipping certain aspects of their characters (who leads, who follows; who runs, who chases) to make them not only compatible but integrated. Blake will have periods of unease and regret, and so she'll go to Yang. Likewise, Yang will have moments where the stress of her façades becomes too much to handle, and so she'll go to Blake.

And regarding Ruby and Weiss' characterizations, I probably could have done better overall, but that's why Edelweiss was written. As wordy as Valence is, I consider it somewhat lean in terms of what's on-topic and not. There was a definite bias weighted more towards Weiss' development than Ruby's, but that comes with what was needed in their moments. This story is about Blake and Yang, and although Ruby and Weiss were critical in its telling, I only had room to show their effects on the main characters, not so much their effects on each other. If I were to write Valence again, I know I'd spend more time on scenes between Ruby and Blake. But as it is, their progression felt subtle enough to be important, so I'll consider that a victory.

Don't get me wrong, though. If I were to rewrite Valence, I would totally spend more time on Ruby and Weiss—not much more, but still something substantial. There were a few things about Valence like that. I have some regrets I wish I could take back, some things I definitely should have done better. There were plot points sacrificed for the sake of narrative and corners cut just to get a chapter out, but they were, fortunately, few and far between. To reiterate, I'm elated with how this turned out, but it's good to note mistakes so not to make them again.

The two biggest mistakes, in my opinion, were the way I handled Blake's PTSD and the unwarned suddenness of her parents' call.

In the former regard, I really think I dropped the ball. While her experiences with the White Fang were unarguably traumatizing and she does have stress which results directly from said trauma, this does not mean I needed to directly call it "stress considered post-traumatic." PTSD is a loaded term, and if a writer uses it to characterize a character, there must be certain precautions taken so not to romanticize or gloss over it, one such precaution being adequate exposition. Since I said she suffered from post-traumatic stress, I should have included a bit more about its past causes and present effects—not enough to make the story revolve around it, per se, but enough to satisfy its existence.

And concerning her parents' call, that was just a matter of poor planning. I knew by chapter nine that they would need to be introduced in a somewhat jarring way, but the least I could have done was acknowledged them in an earlier chapter. The way I did it made them seem like throwaway characters. If I ever do something like this again, I know to reference the characters beforehand, perhaps offhandedly, once or twice before their introduction. That way, they don't appear out of thin air.

Other than that, though, I honestly believe this might be some of my best work anywhere. Even the chapter lengths, as long and arduous as they were, felt good to write. And I mean it. Writing stories like NVG and Solace in between felt somehow lifeless, as though I were leaving out so much. These 20,000-word chapters, although a pain to edit, just felt right.

Anyways, I think I've prattled on long enough. Just to be completely transparent, the reason why this author's note is so long is because I'm trying to push Valence past the 400,000-word mark. I can't just let a story known for its long chapters end at 399,000 words, can I? Probably, but that's no fun.

Valence has been…I don't know. It's certainly been an incredible honor, and I wouldn't have poured all my free time into it if I didn't enjoy it. But even then, those compliments aren't enough. I've learned a lot from this story, both about myself and writing. I'm always going to look back upon this tale fondly, and I'll use what I learned to make something even greater. That said, I'm not sure I'm done with this story yet since some of the earlier chapters still need to be re-edited. But not being able to write new content? That's what makes me tearful.

I think I've said it before, but if I could go back to the winter of 2014 and consider whether or not to do this all again, I'd do this all again. Admittedly, I'd make all the chapters at least 20,000 words long so I could write more, but I don't have that luxury. I'm going to miss Valence.

That said, I'm not done with RWBY. And I'm not done with the world and relationships set up here and in Edelweiss. I love these stories too much to leave things like this. By all means, Valence is complete—its narrative has concluded and Blake and Yang have found the closure they've needed. But there's still more to do, a sequel to write.

The reason why I've been plugging Edelweiss so much is because this concept of a sequel has been discussed there already—months in advance of this chapter's release. The long and short of it is that Valence is essentially one half of something larger. I wasn't sure how well this novel would do, so I made it self-reliant and singular. That way, if it didn't do well, it'd be a one-off fluke. But because it did do well (in my opinion, anyway), I began to incorporate ideas from the sequel, leading to Edelweiss (which is pretty much a five-chapter prologue) and a few minor details scattered throughout in this story.

So, there will be a sequel to Valence. And that sequel's first chapter will release next weekend. For those who are apprehensive, don't worry; the way this sequel's planned makes use of the aforementioned regrets and fixes them, making a smoother narrative which, I suspect, will be a bit more "action-packed." It will be a Bumblebee story with a heavy focus on Blake and Yang, but it will also have a similar focus on Ruby and Weiss, making it a slightly bigger White Rose story. There's yet more to do with Team RWBY, more ways to break their characters down and more fluff to build them up, and I sincerely can't wait to start all over again with On Kaiser Island.

The first chapter should be posted next Saturday. Between then and now, however, a primer short story will be released this Wednesday, setting up the first chapter and bridging the gap between the two novels. In the meantime, I strongly suggest reading Edelweiss, as there are characters and locations discussed within which will be integral to On Kaiser Island. The coming tale will feel very similar to Valence and continue the trend of long chapters, but its idea feels somewhat better to me. I hope you stick around.

Now, with all that said—with all that rambling and word count padding done—I must thank you. This has been a long journey, and it wouldn't have been as fun without you. The reviews I've received, the conversations I've had, and even the gradual climb of my stories' statistics made me feel as though Valence was something great. Admittedly, there were times when those aforementioned regrets kept me from writing, but you all pushed me to keep going, whether you meant to or not. Really, this chapter wouldn't have happened if not for you.

You're good people. And I'm not just saying that to butter you up after reading through my story; I genuinely mean it. The compliments given, the critical analyses made, and even the unhostile ways of walking away show a strength of character the world sorely needs. Now, I know I'm generalizing, but I honestly believe this. There were a few bad apples which come with any demographic, but those went away after the first couple chapters. Those of you who stayed are, in my opinion, great people.

So, thank you for reading. Valence wouldn't be as good as it is without your help. I certainly wouldn't be as enthused if not for you. Your readership is the reason why Edelweiss was written in the first place and why On Kaiser Island was followed through after all; I owe you so much, and the only way I can think of repaying you is to keep on writing.

This has been Valence, a long-winded journey through a longer-than-usual summer break. I hope you enjoyed.

Stay safe and stay tuned for On Kaiser Island.