Chapter Text
Little Ruby Rose held the plate with both hands against her chest as if it were the most important object in the world. She had to do it very carefully, because her fingers were trembling and a piece of cookie had already fallen to the floor in the hallway across from the stairs. She picked it up with a quick gesture and hid it behind the plate, hoping no one would notice. Downstairs in the kitchen, the muffled voices of her father and Uncle Qrow continued their conversation without pause, oblivious to the indecision consuming the youngest member of the family.
Yang's bedroom door was ajar. From inside, a strange smell drifted out, a mix of aromas Ruby didn't know how to feel about: a bit like medicine, a bit like dust, and a bit like her sister's sweets she loved so much. Ruby took a step forward, then another, and finally stopped right in front of the white wood, feeling her heart was pounding so hard it hurt. Her head sank a little deeper between her shoulders, and the plate shifted nervously in her hands.
She couldn't remember ever being so scared of walking in to see Yang. Ever.
And she didn't like that feeling.
With her fingertips, she pushed open the door. A soft creak broke the silence inside. Ruby held her breath, hoping Yang would turn around and look at her like always. With that smile that seemed like a ray of sunshine on a cold morning, with her bright, sincere lilac eyes welcoming her with enthusiasm and promising her a day full of adventures and games around the forest that surrounded their home.
But Yang didn't move.
She was sitting up in bed, her back propped up by a pile of pillows, her eyes fixed on an invisible spot in front of her. Her right arm was covered in a very thick bandage, and where the rest of it should have begun… there was simply nothing. Ruby couldn't stop staring at it. She didn't want to, didn't want to misbehave. Dad had told her not to stare too much, that Yang would be uncomfortable if she did, that she needed space and lots of love to recover now. But Ruby couldn't understand how her sister had lost something so important. How could such a large wound could not hurt all the time?
“Yang…” she whispered, almost without daring to.
Yang didn't react. She just breathed very slowly, her face tired. She had dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept in a thousand years, and Ruby suddenly thought her older sister looked like one of those zombies from the horror stories Yang sometimes read to her when she wanted to annoy her, but which her Dad had forbidden because they gave her nightmares. The truth is, the image now, the same one it had been the last few days, caused her as much, if not more, unease than those stories. She didn't want her sister to turn into a zombie and disappear completely.
Ruby cleared her throat awkwardly, just like she'd heard her Uncle Qrow do when he wanted everyone to hear him.
“I made cookies with you… I mean, for you.” She lifted the plate slightly, even though her hands ached from holding it for so long. “Dad helped… well, a little. But I cut them into hearts.”
Nothing. Not a blink.
Ruby swallowed. She remembered the previous days, each one identical to the last. Since her Uncle had saved them, nothing had felt the same.
It had all happened so fast.
A very cold night when Ruby woke up in the wagon, not understanding what was happening. A pack of Grimm in the clearing, her uncle appearing with his giant scythe. The deafening noise, the smell of burning leaves, the cold seeping through her cloak. The way Yang screamed when the creature grabbed her with its white claws. Ruby could still hear her sister's cry in her head when she stayed silent too long. Always loud. Always too close.
Then, Yang on the ground, Uncle Qrow holding Ruby's head against his shoulder, trying to protect her from everything, the red cloak dragging in the dirt while Dad appeared out of nowhere and took Yang away, running away.
Ruby was left with only a few scratches and bruises from that incident. A large scab on her knee and two on her arm. When they bandaged her up, she thought she was healed. That everything would be okay. But Yang didn't heal as quickly. And since then, Ruby didn't know how to make her sister smile again, didn't know how to help chase away the nightmares the way Yang did when Ruby couldn't sleep well.
And Ruby really wanted Yang's nightmares to go away.
She approached slowly. Each step was like crossing a bridge that could break at any moment.
“I got dressed myself today,” she said quietly but proud, as if it that was big deal. And to her, it was. Normally, she always needed help from Yang or Dad; she was still somewhat clumsy with buttons and confused when tucking her legs into the holes in her pants. But now she didn't have Yang, and Dad seemed sad about a lot of things.
Yang blinked slightly at that news. Ruby thought she might have heard it, and she supposed that was a good thing.
She gathered her courage and carefully climbed into bed. She placed the plate of cookies on the blankets and sat next to Yang, her legs crossed. She wasn't sure if she could touch her, so she stayed still, her hands in her lap.
“Do you want me to read with you?” she asked, even more quietly. “Or I can tell you about the birds I saw outside the window. They were blue. And they sang really loud. Uncle Qrow said that means the snow will be gone soon.”
Yang didn't respond. She didn't even look at the cookies.
Ruby bit her lip, looking down. She remembered all the times she'd tried to make her laugh. The morning she'd brought her a drawing of the two of them, holding hands, capes billowing like flags. The afternoon she'd sat next to her for hours, telling her stories about princess huntress. Or the time she'd tried reading with her but ended up making up part of the story based on the drawings she saw. Nothing worked. Sometimes, her Uncle Qrow would crouch down next to her, his face tired, and tell her to be patient; that Yang needed time to understand that everything would be okay.
Dad also repeated it to her every night before bed. “Ruby… your sister loves you very much. It’s just that she’s hurting now. You have to be strong for both.”
But Ruby didn't understand how long she had to wait. Or how to be strong when her chest hurt so much it felt like it was going to burst.
“I… I just want you to be happy again,” she said, her voice faint. “I want you to be my Yang… What can I do?”
For the first time in days, Yang turned her head slightly. Her violet eyes were dull, like a lake without a reflection. Ruby leaned toward her, hopeful. But Yang quickly looked away, her face not angry, not sad, not anything Ruby could name. Just… empty?
A long silence fell over the room. Ruby felt tears welling up in her eyes and something awful rising in her throat, but she didn't want to cry. She didn't want to be another nuisance. Dad said she had to be strong, and Ruby knew that strong people in stories didn't cry. So, she took a cookie, broke it in half, and left a small piece next to Yang's good hand.
“If… if you want another one, I’ll get it for you…” she muttered.
She got no response.
Ruby sat there, breathing very slowly, with the plate in her lap, eating her cookies slowly, leaving about three for Yang in case she wanted to eat them sometime soon. She hoped that would be the case. Ruby knew that if she left, Yang would be alone. And even though no one ever said it to her, Ruby felt that her sister shouldn't be alone for too long. Thus, she decided to wait. To wait for the hours to pass. For Yang's pain to become a little less painful. For one day, maybe, for her sister to look up and give her a smile.
Until then, Ruby thought she could stay there as long as she needed. After all, she was the little sister. And little sisters don't give up.
:::
Uncle Qrow left a few days later.
Ruby knew he had an important work and couldn't spend much time at home, but that he'd be back soon, or at least that's what her dad always explained to her. Ruby was sad every time her uncle left because the house felt emptier, even though he always brought her gifts when he came back. However, she couldn't help but get too gloomy about his departure. More now that Yang wasn't her Yang, and Dad didn't seem to be doing too well either.
Morning arrived like all the others, with a clear sky over Patch and the sound of seagulls breaking the silence of the coast. Since Yang had returned from the hospital, Ruby woke up before everyone else. Not because she wanted to, but because every night she fell asleep thinking about what she could do to make her sister okay, and every dawn found her with that question echoing in her head.
That day, Ruby decided to help her dad in the kitchen. Tai said making breakfast together was “a good start,” though she wasn’t sure what exactly she was starting. Still, it was better than sitting in the hallway staring at Yang’s bedroom door with a queasy heart.
“Can I break the eggs, Dad?” she asked, standing on tiptoe on a stool.
“Sure, little one. But be careful, okay?” Tai ruffled her hair, his face seeming a little distracted. He wasn’t sleeping well either.
Ruby took an egg in both hands, as if holding something sacred. She slowly cracked it on the edge of the bowl, and part of the shell fell inside. When she went to pick it up, Tai smiled at her a little. “It’s okay. It can always be fixed.”
She thought that was important. That everything could be fixed if one person tried with enough love.
Her dad let her crack the rest of the eggs and carefully remove the dishes. After a while, the stairs creaked with weight, and soon Yang entered the kitchen, almost dragging her feet. Ruby immediately looked at her, with a glimmer of hope. But her sister still didn't look anything like the one she remembered from before. She walked slowly, a little hunched over. Her violet eyes didn't have the sparkling light they had before, although at least she was taking the initiative to leave the room more.
“Good morning” Tai said softly.
Yang didn't answer. She walked over to the table and sank into a chair, with a sigh that sounded more like exhaustion than anything else.
Ruby jumped off the stool, wiped her hands on her apron, and approached her sister with a smile.
“Do you want milk?” she asked, pointing to a glass.
Yang shook her head.
Tai served a couple of toasts on a plate and placed them in front of her. “If you need help, just let me know. There’s no rush.”
“I know,” Yang murmured, her voice muffled.
For a while, the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall and the sizzling of the frying pan. Ruby stood next to Yang, her hands clasped behind her back. She wanted to say something nice, something to make Yang feel a little better. But she couldn't find the right words, and soon her expression turned into a grimace of disappointment.
Yang raised her left arm and began trying to spread butter on a slice. The bread moved around on the plate. Every time she pushed, the slice slipped a little further to the edge. Ruby felt a lump form in her throat at the sight, and Yang's expression turned annoyed.
“Can I help you?” Ruby asked softly.
“No.” Yang pressed her lips together.
With one last push, the bread fell to the floor with a thud. The butter stuck to the wood. Yang froze, breathing rapidly, her hand shaking. Tai took a step forward with a worried expression.
“Honey, it’s okay. I can—”
“I can do it!” Yang raised her voice for the first time in weeks. It was a harsh, desperate cry that made everyone jump.
Ruby quickly bent down and picked up the bread, a piece of butter oozing between her fingers. She carefully placed it back on the plate. “It’s okay, Yang. I’ll help you. I—”
“I said no!” Yang slammed her fist on the table, rattling the glasses on the surface. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, as if she was in pain from being awake.
Ruby took a step back, her silver eyes wide. Her heart started beating too fast.
“But… but I just wanted— “
“Well, I don’t want your help!” Yang brought her hand to her forehead, trembling. “I don’t want you looking at me all the time like I’m… like I’m useless!”
The word fell on Ruby with a weight she couldn't bear. She felt something hot rise up her face and couldn't stop her lip from trembling. "I... I don't believe that..." she murmured, her voice a thread. "I just want you to be happy..."
“Well, I’m never going to be happy again!” Yang screamed, her face red with rage and her eyes shining with unshed tears. For a brief moment, Ruby thought Yang’s eyes turned reddish, but the color disappeared in a blink. “So just leave me alone! Go away!”
For a second, everything froze, the scene suspended in a moment of painful and tragic tension. Tai quickly approached and placed a hand on Yang's shoulder, drawing her attention to him.
“That's enough. It's not your sister's fault,” he said firmly, though his eyes also seemed sad. “She's just trying to help you.”
Yang looked down, her breathing still ragged, but she didn't say anything else. Ruby felt all the warmth drain from her body, like a candle suddenly going out. Without looking at anyone, she turned and walked to the counter. Her tears fell silently to the floor. She hugged herself, trying to understand what she had done wrong.
Her dad stood with Yang, who didn't look up. "Ruby..." he called softly. "Come here, honey."
But Ruby didn't move. Because, deep down, she was afraid that if she came closer, Yang would push her away again. Afraid that her sister wouldn't love her anymore.
Tai sighed when he got no response and ran a hand through Yang's trembling hair. The man closed his eyes for a moment before bending down and placing a kiss on Yang's head, trying to comfort her. He felt tired, weak, and unsure of how to deal with the situation he found himself in. How to help his two daughters, his only remaining reason for living.
“It’s okay,” he said as he stepped away, speaking to both of them. “Today is a difficult day, but not impossible... we just need more time, okay? Tomorrow will be better. It’s alright”
Yang covered her eyes with her hand, like she wanted to hide from everyone. Her voice came out broken, barely a murmur.
“I’m sorry… I… I’m not…” she took a deep breath, trying to hold back her tears. “I’m sorry.”
But Ruby didn't hear them. Or didn't want to hear them. She stood there in a corner of the kitchen, her forehead against the wall, wishing someone would explain to her why everything was so complicated. And wondering if things would ever be the same again.
:::
Night fell with a silence so profound it seemed to swallow the house whole. Ruby lay on her side in her bed, cuddling one of her stuffed animals. She couldn't sleep. She wasn't even tired. She felt something catch in her throat every time she blinked, as if she were about to cry again, even though she'd run out of tears.
Muffled murmurs drifted through the hallway walls. She knew they were coming from Yang's room. Her dad's voice sounded drained, the same as when he'd come back from a long trip with Uncle Qrow and sit on the living room couch, his hands covering his face. Yang's voice was barely a whisper in reply, barely distinguishable through the walls. Ruby couldn't hear what they were saying. She only heard that tone grown-ups made when something was really, really wrong and they didn't want the kids to know.
She snuggled a little deeper under her blanket. The plate of cookies they hadn't eaten that day was still on her nightstand. She'd wanted to bring them into her room because that way she wouldn't feel so alone. But now the cookies looked sad and withered, just like everything else.
Ruby took a deep breath, trying not to make a sound, and wondered once again why her sister had gotten so angry.
I just wanted to help…, she thought, her eyes moistening again.
She didn't understand what she'd done wrong. If she was forbidden to get close, if she had to stay in her room and not talk anymore. If Yang didn't want them together anymore, or if she simply didn't want them to be sisters anymore.
The thought felt so awful that she had to squeeze her eyelids shut to stop it from hurting so much.
Ruby wanted everything to go back to the way it was. She wanted Yang to put a hand on her shoulder and say, "Come here, shorty," in that voice that sounded both confident and amused. She wanted her dad to stop sighing so much. She wanted her Uncle Qrow to let her play with him once more. And, most of all, she wanted her mom.
Ruby raised a hand to her face, rubbing her cheek with the warm palm.
She thought that if only her mom were there, everything would be different. Because she always knew what to say. Mom made Dad laugh when he got serious, with that laugh that filled every corner of the house and scared off even the most fearsome Grimm. Mom baked chocolate chip cookies that never burned and were just the right amount of sweet. Mom hugged so tightly it felt like the whole world stopped for a moment. And when Mom was around, Yang was different. She laughed harder, screamed more enthusiastically, and felt invincible.
Ruby didn't remember exactly when her mom, Summer, stopped coming back. She only knew that everything suddenly became quieter. Dad said they loved her very much, and that wherever she was, she loved them too. But Ruby thought loving someone meant being with them, not disappearing for so long.
Sometimes she woke up in the night thinking her mom would appear in the doorway, her long red hair shining in the hall light, and say, “Sorry I took so long. I’m here.” And then everything would be all right. Yang would be happy again. Dad would actually smile, not that tired half-smile he wore now. And Qrow would stop leaving so much, because Mom liked it when he stayed for dinner.
Ruby rubbed her eyes with her fists, but a sob escaped without permission. It was so unfair. So unfair that she couldn't do anything. She didn't even know how to begin to fix things. Or how to get her mom back.
“Mom…” she whispered, even though she knew no one could hear her. “If you were here… Yang wouldn’t be so sad…”
The wooden floor creaked somewhere in the hallway, and for a moment, Ruby imagined her mother had returned. That she was opening the door and looking at her with her warm eyes. But when she looked up, she saw only darkness. She felt an emptiness in her chest that made her shrink in on herself.
She wanted to think of something less painful. Something that would give her a little hope.
She remembered the stories Yang used to read her at night, when neither of them could sleep. Stories of heroes defeating monsters. Of magic and adventure. Stories of genies who lived in old lamps, waiting for someone to find them so they could grant three wishes. Ruby liked the part where the boy protagonist asked for his family to be together again. And the genie, with a huge smile, snapped his fingers and brought back everything they'd missed. A happy ending. That was what she wanted most.
Maybe…, she thought, staring out the window. Maybe she could look for a lamp. Maybe they do exist… just that no one has found them yet.
It was a small idea, but once she had it, her heart felt a little lighter. If she found a genie, she would ask for three things: That Mom would come back, that Yang would not be sad again, and that everyone could laugh together once more. Maybe then everything would be okay. Maybe then she, too, would understand what she had done wrong and make sure to never repeat it.
She wiped her face with the sheet and forced herself to breathe slowly. Outside, the murmurs of her father and sister continued. They seemed so far away it almost hurt to hear them. Ruby imagined Mom was there, sitting between them, her soft voice telling her everything would be okay. It was just a thought, but she clung to it like a hunk of driftwood in the middle of a vast sea. And when she finally began to drift off, her heart weary and her pillow damp, she decided that if she ever found a magic lamp, she wouldn't hesitate to make her wish.
A simple one.
A perfect one.
That mom would come back and save them all.
:::
Patch Harbor bustled with the bustle of a midday market. Seagulls squawked over the tiled roofs as fishermen unloaded crates smelling of salt and seaweed. Vendors shouted bright fruit and freshly baked pastries. Amidst all the commotion, Ruby walked hand in hand with her father.
Her red cloak flapped behind her, a vivid splash against the dusty colors of the dock, much too big for her but still one she insisted on wearing. Tai was carrying a wicker basket on his forearm. Yang walked a couple of steps behind, frowning, watching everything with a mixture of tiredness and vigilance. Her stump was wrapped in a clean bandage, her one free hand shoved in her pocket, Tai's large jacket draped over her shoulders. Ruby knew Yang wasn't happy to be there. Maybe neither was Dad, if she could tell by her expression. But Ruby felt her heart leap inside her chest with sheer excitement.
She hadn't gone out much since the incident in the woods. Almost never. So everything seemed new and amazing to her. The baskets filled with apples the size of her head, the piles of colorful fabrics fluttering in the sea breeze, the children running between the stalls playing chase and throwing things. It was exciting.
“Stay close, okay?” her father said, his voice meant to sound patient.
“Yes, Dad,” Ruby replied, though her eyes were darting everywhere.
A while later, Tai stopped in front of a vegetable stand. The shopkeeper pulled out a scale and began weighing carrots while chatting with him. Ruby stood a step behind, shifting impatiently on her feet. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Yang, who was leaning against a post, staring out at the waves lapping at the shore. For a moment, Ruby wondered if her sister was so sad because she couldn't help with the shopping or if she was still angry with her for what had happened days ago.
Doubt made a small hole in her stomach.
“If I buy her something nice… if I bring her a gift…” Ruby murmured to herself.
The idea sparked in her head like a little light. Maybe this way Yang would remember that they were still sisters. That they loved each other. That none of that had changed.
Ruby started taking small steps back, like a kitten planning to escape. She didn't move far. Just a little, to get a better look at the other stalls. Tai was busy counting coins. Yang wasn't moving. It was the perfect moment.
A few feet away, a carpenter displayed carved wooden figurines over a table. Little animals, tiny boats, and a couple of brightly painted amulets. Ruby leaned closer, almost hypnotized by the collection. She ran her fingers over a white swan with its wings spread. If she could bring something like that to Yang… maybe she'd smile. Maybe she'd be the same again.
While she was thinking about what to choose, she vaguely heard a conversation coming from the other side of the stall. Two men were unloading sacks from a boat tied up at the dock. They spoke in deep, tired voices, but Ruby managed to make out a few stray phrases amid the crowd:
“…and if it really exists, what would it give… with that treasure we could pay the entire crew for a year…”
“Bah! Stories for children… Who would believe… with a lamp…”
“They said it was hidden somewhere on the southern coast… The coast of… Vacuo… and Grimm attack, you know how it is… wishes… incredible.”
“…with the ones hunters are bringing in now, I don't think… they'll leave much to be done with such a treasure.”
Ruby stood very still, her heart skipping a beat.
A lamp? One that granted wishes?
Her fingers closed around the small wooden swan as her mind raced faster than her legs, her silver eyes searching for whoever those voices belonged to. Maybe… Maybe they knew where to look. Maybe they could take her. If she found the lamp, everything would be back to normal. Her mom would come back. Yang would be happy. Dad would actually smile.
The men continued unloading their sacks, paying little attention to anything else. A group of women walked by, chatting animatedly, and the men's conversation became even more lost in the hubbub. Ruby felt a strange warmth in her chest, a mixture of excitement and fear, as she watched the men. If she asked them, they might laugh at her. But if she did nothing….
“Ruby.” Yang’s voice shook her.
She turned sharply. Her sister was just a few feet away. She was staring at her, her brow furrowed, jaw clenched.
“Dad said not to stray.” Her tone wasn’t angry, but it was harsh, as if she were speaking with effort.
Ruby felt her face burn with embarrassment.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered.
Yang ran her hand over her forehead. She looked more tired than ever but her expression softened a little.
“Stay with me, okay?” She nodded toward the vegetable stand. “Dad’s looking for you.”
Ruby lowered her eyes. In her fist, the wooden swan was trembling slightly. She held it tightly to her chest as she walked back to her sister's side. But as Tai paid for the groceries and Yang looked back at the sea, Ruby couldn't stop thinking about the lamp. How, if she found it, everything would be different. If anyone could fix everything, it was her. Because no one else seemed to try or want to.
When they finished a while later, they walked along the pier toward the food carts and boats rocking against it. The smell of salt mingled with the smell of ripe fruit. Ruby didn't say anything, but with each step she took, she felt more convinced. It was almost as if the lamp was calling to her. As if the whole world was telling her this was her destiny.
A few meters ahead, Tai and Yang stopped to organize the basket and the rest of the shopping bags. Ruby let out a shaky sigh and glanced at her sister out of the corner of her eye. Yang looked so sad it broke Ruby's heart.
Ruby took a few steps toward her sister, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of her throat. Yang had her back to her, leaning against a post as she carefully organized things, her gaze distracted. The wind lifted golden strands of her hair, tangling them and falling back over her bandaged shoulder.
For a moment, Ruby almost hesitated. But then she thought of everything her mom used to tell her when she was scared. “If you do something from the heart, it can’t be wrong.”
So she approached slowly, the small wooden figure clutched in her palm.
“Yang…?” she called, almost faint.
It took Yang a moment to turn around. Her violet eyes looked tired and puffy, as if she'd been crying silently while no one was looking. Ruby swallowed. She took another step until she was standing in front of her, so close she could smell the salty scent of the harbor mixed with her sister's.
“This… this is for you,” she said finally, holding out her hand. Yang looked down. In her tiny fist, Ruby held the wooden swan, the white paint a little worn where she’d squeezed it too hard. “I bought it… well, not bought it, I found it. But I thought you’d like it because… because you’re always strong and… and beautiful, like this swan.”
Yang blinked rapidly then, looking back at Ruby, perplexedly but with a different gleam in her expression, very different from anything she'd shown lately. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Ruby took a deep breath, forcing herself to speak before embarrassment silenced her.
“And… and I want to promise you something.” She murmured.
The silence grew heavier, as if the air itself were waiting. Ruby lifted her chin, her silver eyes large and serious, with a resolve that seemed much heavier and more eternal for someone her age.
“I’ll do everything I can to make you happy again.” Her words cracked slightly, but she didn’t look away. Deep down, she’d already made a decision. “I promise, Yang. I’ll fix everything.”
Yang felt something inside her break. Until that moment, she hadn't truly understood how hard her little sister tried. How she looked at her with those eyes filled with unconditional love. How every attempt to help was a reminder that she still saw her as her hero, even if Yang didn't feel that way anymore.
Her lips trembled. She swallowed and, with a care that hurt, reached up with her only hand to take the little swan. “Ruby…” she murmured, her voice a whisper that broke in the air. “I… thank you.”
For a second, the two stared at each other. For Ruby, it was a momentous moment, a turning point where she could smile at her sister again without any remorse or burden. For Yang, it was a moment of awakening, as if she had emerged from a sleep that had lasted too long. The sea breeze passed between them, warm, laden with salt and something that seemed like a nameless farewell.
Then a roar tore through the murmur of the harbor and made everyone's hearts tremble.
A shout rose from the crowd.
“GRIMM! Grimm at the dock!”
Everything turned to chaos in the blink of an eye. The merchants dropped their baskets, people began running in all directions, a couple of children took refuge under a table. Tai reacted immediately, turning to his daughters, his gaze burning with hunting instinct.
“Yang, take Ruby.” Her voice overrode the panic, her tone authoritarian and serious, making them react. “Go behind that stone stand. Don’t move from there. Do you understand me?”
Yang nodded, her hand shaking around the swan. Ruby stood rooted to the spot, her legs unable to move.
“D-Dad…” she stammered, but Tai was already moving forward into the center of the chaos, joining other huntsmen running toward where three beowolves were emerging from the alley, their red eyes glowing with hatred.
People were screaming.
A boat overturned part of its cargo into the water.
A horse whinnied and broke free from its tether, pushing a fruit cart.
Yang wrapped her arm around Ruby's shoulders protectively, pulling her away from the crowd and backing her toward the stone outpost Tai had pointed out. "Stay here," she ordered, her voice strained. "Don't come out, do you hear me?"
Ruby nodded, her wide eyes filled with confusion and a terror she didn't fully understand. Then, a scream broke the air. A pregnant woman stumbled in the middle of the escape and fell sideways against some barrels in the middle of the crowd desperate to escape. No one stopped to help her, each looking out for their own lives and the lives of their loved ones.
Yang immediately turned to her and hesitated. She looked at Ruby, her eyes full of conflict. Then looked at the woman, and uncertainty was evident on her face.
“Wait here,” she repeated, her voice breaking.
She let go of Ruby and ran to the woman, who was struggling to get to her feet. Ruby was left alone.
For a moment, time stretched. The wooden swan was still in Yang's hand. Tai disappeared among the huntsmen and the shadows of the Grimm. The crowd was a swirl of footsteps, screams, and dust. And Ruby, her heart beating so fast it hurt, realized this was her moment. Her chance. Everything was happening just like in the stories. The chaos was the door that opened, the instant the hero took the decisive step.
She peeked behind the stone outpost. A few meters away, as if fate were directing the way, she saw the two men from earlier hurrying their crew. “Come on, set sail now!” one shouted. “Before more Grimm arrive!”
Ruby clenched her fists around her red cloak. If she followed them now, maybe they'd take her to the southern shore they'd talked about. Maybe she'd find the lamp. Maybe, finally, everything would get better.
Without another thought, she ran toward the dock. Her red cape billowed behind her, a small flash of red that no one saw in the tumult. She jumped over a rope and dodged a rolling barrel. The boat was pulling away from the landing stage, a plank still leaning against the railing. Ruby took such a deep breath that she felt her chest fill with fire.
“I’m going to fix everything…” she whispered like a spell.
And with a final push, she climbed the plank. The wind hit her face, the boat was moving away from the dock, and the plank vibrated beneath her feet. Ruby turned for a second, looking for Yang in an attempt to call her and say goodbye, to tell her everything would be okay, that she'd be back soon. But her sister was on her knees, helping the woman up, too far away to notice her absence.
Neither she nor dad saw her.
Ruby felt a chill run down her spine, something akin to doubt.
But she forced herself to remember her promise. The lamp. The wish. Her mother. The family reunited. She took another step and jumped, just as the plank collapsed. She lost her footing, and with clumsy stumbles and a muffled scream, she disappeared into the ship's hold, without anyone noticing that the girl in the red cloak had just left for an undetermined destination.
------------------------------------
Yang felt the world shift a little as the pregnant woman, her face pale and sweaty, managed to stand up, leaning on her shoulder.
“Thank you… thank you…” the woman murmured, her voice trembling.
Yang nodded without looking at her much, her heart beating so fast it hurt her chest. She led the woman away from the crowd and turned immediately, looking for Ruby where she'd left her. The carved stone stall was still there, smeared with dust, the contents for sale half-spilled on the ground. But she didn't see her sister.
For a moment, her mind refused to understand.
“Ruby…?” she called softly, as if the girl was about to poke her head out from behind a drawer. “Ruby, come out of there. It’s not funny.”
The sea breeze whistled against her face, mocking her.
There was no response.
A shudder ran down Yang's spine at that instant. She looked around quickly, her eyes wide. Dozens of people were running in all directions, some holding children by the hand, others carrying baskets. The harbor was a hive of screams, dust, and despair. The perfect place to attract more Grimm or where disgusting people could take advantage of the confusion to cause trouble.
“Ruby,” she said louder, “Ruby! Where are you?”
Her boots thumped against the wood of the dock as she approached the stall with quick strides, expecting to find her huddled behind it, shaking in fear, but her hopes died as soon as she realized the place was completely empty.
A pulse of pure panic rose in her throat. Yang spun around, her one hand balled into a fist around the tiny swan her little sister had just gifted her. But she couldn't see it. The red cloak. The damn red cloak that always stood out in a crowd seemed to have simply vanished. Not a trace of it in the distance.
“RUBY!” she screamed then, her voice tearing from her throat.
She darted between the stalls, pushed crates, and shoved aside a sailor running in the opposite direction. People were shouting and swearing at her, but she heard nothing. All she could think about was her little sister's tiny body, lost in the chaos, maybe scared, maybe hurt. No. Nothing could have happened. She couldn't have just disappeared like that. She'd only turned her back around for a minute, maybe less. How was that possible?
She climbed onto a barrel to gain height and searched through the sea of heads and hats. In the distance, she could make out the gunshots and flashes of dust from the hunters' fight against the Grimm. She even thought he could make out his father's blond head as he dodged an attack.
“RUBY!!” she screamed again, this time her voice breaking with desperation.
Nothing.
Not a single red flash.
Not a single strand of hair ruffled.
Yang's heart began to beat in a way she had never felt before, like a war drum, as if it were going to explode from within.
“No… it can’t be…” she muttered, jumping down from the barrel. “Ruby, please…”
She started running again. Each step was more desperate. Every empty stall she checked was a reminder that her sister wasn't where she'd left her. She wasn't anywhere.
“R-Ruby!!” Her voice finally broke.
In her hand, she still held the wooden swan. So small. So useless. The promise Ruby had made to her a moment before, without Yang understanding how much it meant, now seemed like an unmistakable regret at her failure.
She stopped dead in the middle of the dock, her chest rising and falling in an almost violent tremor. And the realization hit her like a hammer blow to the chest: Her little sister was gone, and she hadn't done anything. Again. Ruby was gone, and Yang had failed to protect her.
Her only job and she hadn't been able to do it.
Her knees buckled. She fell to the ground, uncaring of the dust and splinters digging into her skin. She clutched the swan to her chest so tightly that the sharp edges of the poorly filed wood cut her palm. Tears blurred her eyes until everything was a liquid blur in her vision.
“Ruby…” she whispered, the breeze whipping her blonde hair around her face, but she didn’t feel the wind anymore. She only felt the pain and panic. “Please…”
She could only feel fury.
The blame.
Failure.
A scream was born in her from some remote, primitive place. A place deep within her, where all her fear and love resided.
Yang opened her mouth and screamed with everything she had left in her torn soul:
“RUBYYYYYY!”
The air around her suddenly ignited. A golden glow burst from her skin, and a ring of pure heat spread out in all directions, pushing people onto their backs, kicking up dust, and making the wood of the pier tremble. Her face awoke with rage and despair. A blaze that seared her chest and filled her eyes with crimson light.
But Ruby didn't appear. Not even if she screamed her name a thousand times. Not even if the entire harbor burned to the ground. The little girl with the red cape and silver eyes as bright as the moon itself didn't show up to soothe her pain.
Yang stood there, kneeling, her bloody hand on the swan, her golden hair waving like flames around her face. And that moment was forever etched in her heart. The moment she lost her little sister. The moment she realized there weren't enough promises to bring her back, at least not as she was now.
Over time, and even many years later, every time she closed her eyes, Yang would continue to see the red cape in the crowd, moving away forever.