Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Furina danced, the spotlight following her graceful movements across the dark, massive stage. Music floated down from nowhere, no musicians were present to play. No one was present at all, save for the blonde traveller in the front row, watching in shock and horror. Furina should be angry at them, after what they had done, but at the moment all she could feel was sorrow.

Furina knew this stage was not real, it was only happening in her mind. Distantly, she was aware of her body, still slumped on her throne crying in silence. And yet, Furina danced, knowing it was the last time she would have to do so. After this, once she returned to her body, she would be stuck. Trapped by her own failures, unable to move from her throne lest she be dissolved by the Primordial Sea she had failed to hold back. Perhaps Furina would just accept it, fade into the waters like the rest of her nation.

At least, with this dance, The Act was over.

Furina bowed her head. The music faded. A pause, then something in Furina snapped, an impact that echoed through her entire being, concentrating in a sharp phantom pain in her neck. Faintly, she heard her hat fall to the floor, but Furina was more distracted by the tingling spreading through her body.

The stage faded out, and Furina found herself back on her throne, tears still streaming down her face. Water surged below her. Seeing it sent yet another wave of grief and guilt through her chest, and some part of Furina wondered how it was physically possible that her human body could contain this much emotion.

Though perhaps it couldn’t, as the tingling turned to numbness and Furina saw her hands were disappearing, turning into glowing blue bubbles of Hydro energy. The affliction spread quickly, Furina’s vision slowly fading away as the bubbles reached her chest.

Despite it all, Furina felt a hint of relief.

‘At least I won’t have to do it myself.’

The bubbles reached her neck, and Furina’s sight went entirely. The last thing she noticed was that the waters looked further away than before.

The last thing she thought was ‘I’m sorry, Mirror-Me. I tried.’

And so, Furina de Fontaine died.

In a world far away, a woman was walking down a beach, her white cloak reflecting the light of a shattered moon. Even relaxed, her silver eyes scanned the area for potential threats. She wasn’t really expecting to find anything, but years spent fighting monsters had taught her to never fully let her guard down outside.

It was a good thing she hadn’t, since her watchful eyes caught on something lying in the waves. The woman wasn’t sure exactly why, but she frowned and headed towards it. As the next wave receded, she got a clearer view of the thing and gasped, darting forward much faster.

It was a baby.

Carefully, the woman lifted it in her arms, fingers desperately finding the baby’s chest.

‘Please, please, please be alive’ she thought. She really did not want to have found the drowned corpse of a child, especially not considering her own daughter waiting for her back home.

A moment passed in rising panic before she finally felt a heartbeat, and the woman’s shoulders slumped in relief. She looked down at the baby in her arms. A girl. Its head was covered in white fuzz, seeming only a month or so old. It was cold, concerningly so, water glistening on pale skin. The woman tucked it against her chest, wrapped her cloak around it in hopes of warming it up, and began to quickly hurry in the direction of the nearby village.

Who could possibly have left a child on a beach, at night? What sort of monster would do such a thing? The woman thought she knew monsters, she fought them every day, but this was a whole new level of cruelty, made even worse by the fact that it was a person that had done it.

The baby coughed weakly, causing the woman to look down. She faltered slightly.

The baby stared back, heterochromatic eyes of the purest blue, with strange pupils shaped like teardrops – one black, one white. Faintly, the woman wondered if that was why the baby had been abandoned, but it was not what concerned her the most.

The baby’s eyes held no emotion but deep, ancient sorrow.

Chapter Text

Having recovered from her shock, Summer picked up her pace towards the village, almost running through streets abandoned at night. Every so often she would glance down at the child in her arms, who only stared back in silence. Now that the baby was dry, Summer could see small tear tracks running down the child’s face.

Finally Summer arrived at her destination. She burst through the doors into the town’s clinic.

“Doctor Aspen!” she called. “Someone, please! It’s urgent!”

A door slammed from the floor above, followed by the sounds of someone stumbling down the stairs. Soon after, a man came in, eyes alert but clearly having just rolled out of bed.

“Summer? He asked. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Summer shook her head. “Not me.” She shifted her cloak so the doctor could see the baby in her arms. Dr Aspen’s eyes widened, and he reached out to gently take the child from Summer’s arms. 

“I found her on the beach,” explained Summer as the doctor started his examinations. “She was just lying there, in the waves. Nobody else was in the area, she could have been there for hours.”

Dr Aspen listened to the baby’s breathing for a moment, furrowed his brow, and felt for the baby’s pulse. “That’s… concerning. I can’t think of anyone nearby who could have left her there.” He picked up a light, looked into the child’s eyes, and paused with an unsettled expression. “Huh. That’s new.” The doctor resumed his examination, shining the light into each deep blue eye and watching the teardrop pupils contract.

“You can see it too then?” Asked Summer. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a child look so… sad.”

The doctor hummed, putting away his instruments. “No, neither have I. Can you hold her while I go grab some blankets?”

“Of course,” Summer replied, taking the baby back into her arms. “Do you mind if I call someone over? I know a guy who might be able to give us some answers.”

The doctor waved his hand in permission, already halfway out the same door he had come in. Summer looked down once again at the child, who had spent the entire examination silently staring up at the doctor, unmoving. Summer took a deep breath and pulled out her scroll, selecting a contact and hitting ‘call’. When the man on the other end didn’t pick up, Summer called again. On the third call, the recipient finally picked up.

“What do you fucking want?”

“Mr Coal, it’s Summer.”

“You better have a damn good reason for calling this late.”

“How about an abandoned child?”

A few seconds passed in silence, then a sigh crackled over the scroll.

“Where am I meeting you?”

“Doctor Aspen’s place. It’s right by–”

“Yeah I know where it is. I’ll be there in ten.” Coal ended the call. Summer rolled her eyes, but put away her scroll as Dr Aspen returned. The doctor held out some small blankets for Summer to take, and she wrapped the baby in them securely. 

The doctor gestured to the door he had come through. “I’ve got some nicer chairs in there. If you would like, we can go sit down and go over the results while you wait for your guy?”

“Alright.” Summer followed him into a different room that did in fact contain several comfy-looking armchairs. Dr Aspen made himself comfortable in one, and Summer sat down across from him, still holding the child.

“Judging by how calm you are, I’m guessing she’s not in any immediate danger?” It was the only reason Summer herself wasn’t up and pacing nervously.

“No. At least, I don’t think she is.”

“You don’t think she is? So she could be?” Summer demanded, her relative calm deteriorating.

“It’s… difficult to tell.”

“You’re a doctor, shouldn’t you be able to tell if a baby isn’t healthy?”

Dr Aspen sighed. “Usually, yes. But this is a bit of a special case.”

Summer gave him her best ‘get on with it’ look.

“Well, she seems to be generally healthy. Her heart’s good, her lungs make the right sound. She seems to be the right size for being one month old, and her eyes responded well, even the lighter one. She seems to be conscious. Those are all signs that point to good health.”

“But…?” Summer prodded.

“It’s always hard to tell with faunus, especially when we don’t have the parents here to give us any background information.” The doctor sighed tiredly.

“So she is a faunus then?” Asked Summer, looking down into the baby’s strange eyes, which were still letting out the occasional small tear.

“I have no idea what else she could be,” responded Dr Aspen. “Those eyes are a dead giveaway, but there’s also something else. You noticed her temperature?”

“Of course.” Summer gently touched the baby’s face, noticing it was just as cold as earlier despite being bundled in several blankets and held to Summer’s chest. “I figured it was from being in the water for so long, especially so late in the year.”

“Well as far as I can tell, that’s her normal temperature. She showed no other signs of hypothermia, nor even of just being cold. Add to that, her breathing is very slow and shallow, but she shows no signs of needing more air. If I had to guess, she might be able to get enough oxygen from water, though I wouldn’t test that. It’s actually quite fascinating!”

Summer gave him a look.

“Yes, yes. Anyway, while I’ve never seen a faunus like this, it’s the only explanation for all that. I could not for the life of me name what type of faunus though, not any that would result in those eyes.”

“No, neither could I.” Summer checked once again on the child. Her eyes had closed, but the tears had not stopped. Summer gently wiped a few away. “Maybe that was why she was left on the beach.”

The doctor hummed in agreement, then continued his explanation. “As for the… deep, unrelenting sadness, I honestly have no idea. That sort of emotion is generally not found in most adults, let alone children a month old. Though it is of course possible that we are reading it wrong, and that is simply how the child looks.”

Summer tilted her head, nodding slightly. She wasn’t wholly convinced of that theory, though it would be much preferred over a baby holding that much anguish.

“All I can do there,” Dr Aspen continued. “Is to make sure she doesn’t get dehydrated from those tears. If she is some sort of water-related faunus, I suspect dehydration would be even worse than usual.”

With that, Dr Aspen stood and went up the stairs, returning with a bottle of baby formula.

“I usually have some in case of emergencies,” he explained as he handed the bottle to Summer. “You know what to do with it.” 

Summer did, in fact, know what to do with it, having learned all she could in preparation to help Raven with her child. Who was now Summer’s child. Summer did not want to think about that right now.

The next five minutes were spent attempting to get the baby to eat, while the child in question lay there unmoving, not accepting the bottle but not pushing it away either. Summer only set the bottle aside when a knock sounded on the door to the clinic. Dr Aspen went to open the door, and a few moments later returned with Mr Coal in tow.

Coal had very clearly thrown on whatever clothing had been closest, his hair ruffled and expression annoyed at being woken up. Nevertheless, he had arrived fairly quickly, so Summer wasn’t about to complain.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.” Coal sighed. 

Summer held out the baby so Coal could place a hand on her forehead. As he did so, Summer turned to the doctor. “Mr Coal’s semblance lets him read surface level information about anyone he touches. Name, age, family members, hometown, stuff like that. It’s very useful with missing persons, or for interrogating criminals.”

“Yes, useful, ” Coal grumbled. “Except people don’t particularly enjoy having a stranger know random details about their life before they even introduce themselves.” The man focused on the baby with a slowly deepening frown of concentration. A few seconds passed in which Summer grew increasingly concerned. It never took Coal this long to read information.

Finally, the man stepped back, breathing slightly heavier than before. He collapsed into a chair, looking troubled.

“What did you find?” Summer sat back down herself.

“Not very much,” Coal replied. “Her name is Furina de Fontaine, she’s exactly a month old, which means she was born October 13th.” He paused.

“And?” Asked Summer, glad to finally have a name.

“And nothing,” Coal continued. “That was all I could get.”

“What!” Summer exclaimed. “I’ve seen you get more information with less time and effort, how could you only have her name and age?”

“No need to rub it in Summer,” Coal huffed. “Everything about her was muddled, like there were several conflicting versions of everything. Even with her name and age, it was hard to tell.”

“Have you ever seen anything like it before?” Doctor Aspen chimed in from where he had been quietly listening in. 

“Never.” Coal looked unsettled. “And even with how muddled it was, I should still have been able to read a bit more. It was like there was something hiding information from me, every time I thought I had something it would be pulled away. I’m pretty sure I only got the name and age because, whatever it was, it let me have that.” He sighed heavily. “Can I go now?”

“Alright,” Summer answered. “Thank you for coming in, Mr Coal.” 

Coal nodded at her, then at Dr Aspen, and left, presumably returning to his bed.

Summer turned to the doctor. “I don’t think I know anyone with the surname ‘DeFontaine’.”

“No, neither do I. And I’ve lived in this town for thirty years.”

Summer sighed. “Thank you for all your help, Doctor. I suppose I should let you return to your bed as well.”

“It was no problem, this was important,” Dr Aspen replied. “Before you go, may I ask what you intend to do next?”

Summer hadn’t really thought about it. “I suppose I’ll bring her home, and start looking for her family in the morning.”

“And once you find them?”

“Figure out what happened, I guess.” Summer sighed once again.”Beyond that, not a clue. I’m too tired to plan anything right now.”

“Alright then. If she hasn’t eaten by tomorrow evening, come back in. Otherwise, I’m sure you know what to watch out for?”

“Yes,” Summer replied. “Even if there are no problems, I’ll probably revisit you in a few days to check in.” She stood, heading for the door. “Good night, Doctor.”

“Good night, Summer, and good luck.”

Chapter Text

At last, Summer found herself walking up the path towards the home she shared with her lover and her daughter. The bundle in her arms remained as quiet as ever, though her eyes had been closed since the clinic and her tears seemed to have stopped. Summer wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing, considering she still had not managed to get the child to eat, and it was possible they just stopped because of dehydration.

Quietly, Summer opened the front door and stepped in, hoping her lover would be awake. Thankfully, she was greeted by soft lamplight and the sight of Taiyang sitting on the couch, seemingly reading something on his scroll. At Summer’s entrance, he closed the device and looked over.

“Hey,” he greeted quietly. “I finally managed to get Yang to sleep, the little devil, so we should be good for another couple hours at most.” He chuckled. “You were out longer than usual. Had enough of us?”

Summer smiled tiredly. “Only a little bit. No, I kind of… I found…” she faltered. All that time spent walking here and she hadn’t even planned what to say when she showed up at home with a mysterious baby she found on a beach. Nice going Summer.

Tai studied Summer’s expression and frowned, standing to join her at the door. “What’s…” he trailed off as Summer shifted to show him what she held in her arms. Tai blinked several times.

“Summer, am I hallucinating or is that a baby?”

“You’re not hallucinating.”

“...Okay then.” A few seconds passed before Tai cracked a smile. “You know, I thought you went for a walk to escape all the baby-induced stress.”

Summer laughed. “I did.”

“So who is this then?” Tai asked, carefully taking the child, allowing for Summer to remove her boots.

“This is Furina. I found her on the beach.”

“You found her… on the beach? Like, someone left her there?” Tai’s voice reflected his concern, looking down at the baby – Furina – in his arms.

“She was just lying there in the waves, no footprints, no parents, nobody around. How else would she have gotten there? She’s only a month old, it’s not like she walked.” Summer finally got her boot off and went to get some baby formula from the kitchen.

As she rummaged around, Summer heard a sound of surprise come from the other room, followed by Taiyang’s voice.

“Summer? I’m assuming you knew about the eyes, but did baby Furina look at you like she’s already grieving the inevitable deaths of you and your entire family?”

Summer guessed that meant Furina was awake. “It is a bit unsettling, isn’t it.”

She returned to the living room with a new bottle of formula to find Tai back on the couch, gently stroking the baby’s wisps of hair. She sat next to him, and handed her lover the bottle.

“Hopefully you have better luck getting her to eat than I did,” she told him.

“She’s barely breathing,” Tai noted worriedly as he shifted Furina into a better position. 

Summer answered his unspoken question. “Dr Aspen thinks it’s normal for her. Says she’s likely some type of aquatic faunus. Apparently that’s also why she’s so cold.”

Tai hummed in acknowledgment, but the worry on his face didn’t recede as Furina was still refusing to eat. “Have you found anything about her parents?”

“No, all Coal could get was that her name is Furina DeFontaine and she was born October 13th.”

“You got Coal in on this? If he’s involved, I would have thought you’d already know the parents’ names by now.”

Summer shook her head. “Apparently she’s got some sort of resistance to his semblance. He grumbled something about ‘all the information being muddled’ and ‘something was hiding it from me’.”

“That’s strange.” Tai set aside the bottle and held his hand over Furina’s forehead. “Her aura’s not even partially unlocked, I have no idea how she could resist a semblance without it.”

“Hopefully we get some answers tomorrow,” said Summer. “We might not know a lot, but we have a surname, so I’ll start looking for a ‘DeFontaine’ family in the morning. Unless you’ve heard of it before?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“No, I didn’t think it would.”

The couple sat there in silence for a few minutes, before they were interrupted by a wail from upstairs. Tai half-laughed, half-sighed.

“The gremlin calls. Better go see what she wants.”

“I’ll get it,” offered Summer. “You put her to bed last time.” She stood, and headed off up the stairs to tend to her daughter, leaving Taiyang on the couch to once again attempt coaxing Furina into eating.

Morning dawned over the house, bringing with it the loud crying of one infant and the conspicuous silence of another. In the kitchen, Taiyang was appeasing his wailing daughter with food, while Summer held Furina and wished she could do the same. Furina had yet to accept the bottle, and the Huntress was becoming increasingly concerned. 

After succeeding in the noble task of bargaining with a 3-month old, Taiyang turned to Summer.

“Did you have any leads mysteriously appear last night, or are you just planning on winging it today?”

“Nope, no leads,” Summer replied. “Unless you count that itself as a lead. There was nothing I could find about Furina or a DeFontaine family in any of the sources I could access from my scroll. Somewhat suspicious, but they could just be very private.” She stood. “Are you sure you’ll be fine looking after both children while I’m gone?”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m definitely more than a match for two babies.” Tai winked at her.

“Are you sure?” Summer teased. “Maybe you should call Qrow.”

Tai put a hand to his chest in offense. “Agh! Wounded so deeply by my own love! Off with you, so I may heal before I get my revenge!”

Summer laughed, handed him Furina, and went to grab her axe, Sundered Rose.

As she stepped out the door, the sound of Yang’s cries began again. Tai would have his work cut out for him.

Summer had sent out messages to a few Huntsmen she knew were in the area, but was not expecting a swift response. While waiting, she began her own search by simply going door to door, asking people if they’d heard of a DeFontaine family, or even if they knew of any faunus couples in the area who had recently had a child.

The first question led to nothing, not a single person recognized that name. Summer was not overly surprised – neither she nor Doctor Aspen knew it, and between the two they knew everyone in town. The second was a bit more fruitful, as she was directed to two different faunus couples. 

The first couple did in fact have a child, but said child was already five months old.

The second couple, when Summer went to speak to them, were highly suspicious of the Huntress’ motive in asking after their daughter. Summer reluctantly explained she had found a faunus child on the beach, which prompted the couple to allow her a brief glimpse of their own month old baby before practically shoving Summer out the door. 

She made a note of that, but didn’t pursue further. They were probably just wary, and rightfully so. Patch was quite accepting as far as predominantly human villages go, but that didn’t mean it was perfect. Summer would only investigate that family further if she found any actual evidence pointing to them.

By the time Summer had finished asking around, it was well into the afternoon and she had no results to show for it save the lack of information. Her contacts had gotten back to her, but even they had come up with nothing. 

Which was good in the sense that Summer had learned something – whoever the DeFontaines were, they were completely unknown. Nobody had heard of them, they weren’t in any databases, they hadn’t been on any registered airships on or off Patch, nothing. At least, not under that name, though none of the faunus couples she or her colleagues had checked would fit the criteria either. 

The lack of information was bad in the sense that Summer now had zero leads.

Frustrated, Summer returned to the beach where she had found Furina the night before. She didn’t hope to find anything, but her last option was one she hoped to avoid.

She looked half-heartedly for tracks, but the waves had washed anything she could have found away. She checked the trees for any signs of passage, of someone who may have been watching while she took the child, but of course there was nothing. That one was far-fetched anyway. 

Sighing, Summer has almost resigned herself to contacting the one person she wished to avoid for the moment, when her eyes caught on something. An object lying in the waves, right where Furina had been not long ago. Summer ran to pick it up, desperate for any lead.

The object was a glass bottle, tinted blue and firmly stoppered. There were no markings on it, but when Summer shook the bottle gently she could feel something light inside. She hesitated a second, wondering if it would be safe to open, but ultimately the hope for answers was too strong and she carefully worked the cork stopper out.

Inside was two pieces of paper, rolled up and held closed with drops of blue wax sealed with some small design. Looking closely, Summer could almost make out the tiny image of old-fashioned scales.

There was writing on the opposite side of each paper in simple black ink, and Summer’s breath caught when she saw what it said. One was labelled Summer , and the other was labelled Furina . 

If Summer were any normal woman, her hands would be shaking as she sat on a nearby log to open the seals. As it was, she was a Huntress, and so her fingers were steady as she slid them gently under the wax on the one marked with her own name. She gently unrolled the paper, careful not to damage the seal.

Inside was written a message in the same black ink. Four words:

Take care of her.

Summer read the words again. Then once more. Then she sighed, rolled the paper back up, and tucked it into her pocket. She turned to the second note, the one addressed to Furina herself. Summer briefly considered whether she should leave this one unread, but ultimately decided that if whoever wrote the notes didn’t want her to read it then they should not have put it in the same bottle.

The first thing Summer noticed about this note was that it was longer. The second was that it was written in a different language, one Summer did not know.

In the same ink and handwriting, the note read:

Votre sacrifice vous a gagné une deuxième chance. Ne le gaspillez pas.

Summer could make out the words ‘sacrifice’ and ‘chance’, but even with the assumption that they meant the same thing she could not figure out what the note said. And then there was the matter of the first note, the meaning of which was much more clear.

Summer sighed – It looked like she would be calling Ozpin after all.

It was nearly evening by the time Summer got back home. She hadn’t called Ozpin yet, intending to do so once she had spoken to her lover. The house was quiet as she stepped inside. That was probably a good sign, right?

Summer found Taiyang on the couch, cradling Furina in his left arm and Yang in his right. All three appeared to be asleep. Summer’s heart melted. Quietly, she took out her scroll and snapped a picture before Tai could wake up.

Which he was doing now, having instinctively registered Summer’s presence. Tai yawned and half-stretched, stopping when he registered the weight of two children in his arms. His eyes opened to look at Summer, blinking away sleep.

“Hey,” Summer greeted.

“Hey,” Tai returned, yawning again. “Find anything?”

“Yes, but it’s definitely not anything we expected.” Summer showed him the bottle, sitting next to him and taking Furina so Tai could examine the bottle himself.

“A bottle?” Tai asked. “What’s this got to do with a missing child?”

“I found it on the beach, same spot as Furina,” Summer answered. “These were inside it.” She handed him the two notes. Tai frowned as he examined the seals, same as she had, then opened the one addressed to Summer. After reading it, he hummed consideringly.

When he read the second note, Tai’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s interesting. I don’t think I recognize the language.”

“Neither do I.” Summer frowned. “I think we need to call Ozpin.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Summer ran a hand through her hair. “He’s our best bet for decoding the note quickly.”

“We could just ask one of our contacts in research. I’m sure they could help.”

Summer sighed. “Maybe with the language, but you read the first note. If we’re going to be looking after a second child, especially under such strange circumstances, Ozpin needs to know. He’ll find out anyway, even if we don’t tell him ourselves.”

Tai didn’t argue, he knew Summer was right. As much as they wanted to avoid the war for a bit while Yang was still so young, there was no real reason to avoid calling the man in charge.

Tai stood, placing the bottle and notes on the coffee table, and headed up the stairs to put Yang in bed. Summer followed with Furina. It was for the best that neither child was in the room for the conversation, on the off chance things got too intense. They gently placed both children in the same crib – hopefully there would be no problems until they could get a second – and went back downstairs to call the headmaster of Beacon Academy.

Ozpin picked up immediately. 

“Summer. I haven’t heard from you in a while. How is your daughter?”

“I’ve been busy. Yang is fine, but something else has happened that we need to talk to you about.”

“Oh? What might that be?”

“I found a child on the beach. A baby.”

Ozpin was silent for a second.

“I see. While that is concerning, I assume there is something else that made you call me about it.”

“Several things. The first you should know is that she’s a faunus. Some aquatic sort, her eyes have strange teardrop-shaped pupils, one of which is white. Dr Aspen thinks she’s naturally cold, and her breathing is slow enough he theorized she can breathe underwater.”

“That doesn’t match any faunus types I’ve heard of.”

That was worrying. Ozpin had lived a long time, if he didn’t recognize those traits it was unlikely anyone else would.

“What else? Surely that can’t be all.”

“Mr Coal was able to get her name, Furina DeFontaine, and placed her birthday at last month, on the 13th. He wasn’t able to get anything else, and I could find nothing with her family name.”

“That was all he was able to get?”

“Yes. Information was muddled, something was hiding it from him, he only got what it wanted him to have. We have no idea how that’s possible, the child’s aura isn’t active at all.” Summer was not happy to be explaining this again.

“Interesting. Perhaps she was protected by someone else’s semblance. Or perhaps by something more.”

“You think it was Salem?” Summer hadn’t even considered it, but it was unfortunately a possibility. The witch would probably be capable of it. Perhaps she wanted an in with Ozpin’s group, something to ambush or blackmail them with later.

“Perhaps, but let’s not jump to conclusions too quickly. Is there anything else?”

“Just one more thing.” Summer decided not to tell Ozpin about the sadness she saw in Furina’s eyes. That was a conversation for another day. “I found this bottle during my investigations today, it had two notes inside.” Summer proceeded to read the two notes out to Ozpin while Tai, who had not been participating in the discussion, took pictures to send alongside. Once it was finished, Ozpin was silent for a few seconds of consideration.

“I think we can be sure the note addressed to young Furina is written in another language rather than code. They would likely not leave the words ‘sacrifice’ and ‘chance’ uncoded.”

“You don’t recognize the language either?” Again, concerning.

“No. Though it does intrigue me that the note appears to be meant for Furina. It implies that she would be able to read it.”

“She’s one month old, even if somehow knows the language there is no way she can read.” That was something Summer was sure about. “Maybe it’s intended for when she’s older.”

“Maybe. Based on the few words we can make out, I think it’s safe to assume the contents of that note are not as… tame as the one addressed directly to you.”

“Maybe Furina will have to sacrifice something?” Tai wondered.

“That could be. Or Furina herself was the sacrifice.”

“Do you think someone deliberately manipulated events so I would find her, or do you think they were watching and wrote the notes after?” Summer was concerned about this. Either answer would lead to worrying implications.

“There is no way to know for sure. It could be a plan by our enemy to get an advantage over us.”

“Whether it is or isn’t,” Summer responded firmly. “It doesn’t change what we do with Furina. I’m not leaving a baby to an orphanage, not when there are such suspicious circumstances surrounding her.”

“You will take her in then?”

“As long as Tai agrees.” Summer looked to her lover.

“Why not,” Tai shrugged. “We already have one baby, it’s not like we aren’t already on leave. How hard could raising another one be?”

“I recommend you call in Qrow.”

“Hey!”

Once the call had ended, Summer and Tai went upstairs to get the infants for feeding. They found the two still in the cradle, same as before, though upon closer inspection it seemed one of Yang’s arms had found its way out of her blanket and onto Furina’s cheek. Summer took a picture.

While Yang seemed to still be asleep, Furina’s eyes were once again open. As Summer picked her up, she thought that perhaps they didn’t hold quite as much sorrow as before.

Having prepared yet another bottle for the faunus child, Summer brought her back down to the living room. Holding the bottle in one hand and Furina in the other, Summer took a deep breath. Tai hadn’t managed to get the girl to eat earlier. If Furina still refused now, Summer would have to bring her back to Dr Aspen before the girl starved.

When still, Furina made no move to eat, not even an attempt at suckling on the rubber tip of the bottle, Summer nearly cried. “Please,” she begged the child in her arms pointlessly. “Please, you have to eat.” There was, of course, no answer, as one-month old babies do not understand speech.

Summer tipped her head back in exhaustion. Who was she kidding, she hadn’t really expected Furina to eat after refusing all day, despite how she should have been fed every few hours. For all Summer knew, whatever type of faunus Furina was were supposed to eat something different. Mabe that was why she wouldn’t drink the formula. Oh Gods, what if she was supposed to spend a certain amount of time in the water or something? What had Summer gotten herself into, taking in an unknown faunus baby with zero information? 

Summer hadn’t slept well for several nights in a row, and it may have been showing.

A low noise startled Summer out of her thoughts, and returned her attention to the child in her arms. It hadn’t been loud, a quiet mix of gurgle and whine, but it was the first time Summer had heard anything from Furina.

Looking down, Summer’s eyes widened. The sorrow in Furina’s eyes had nearly completely subsided, only a shadow of it remaining. She looked fully awake and alert, as opposed to earlier when it seemed she was only vaguely aware of her surroundings. It was like looking at a completely different baby.

Summer decided she would question it later. For now, she took the chance to bring the bottle to Furina’s mouth, hoping…

Furina ate voraciously, exactly how Summer would have expected of a starved child. She didn’t stop until the full bottle had been consumed. The strange change in demeanor lasted only until the bottle was empty, before the awareness faded away and sorrow returned to Furina’s eyes in full force.

Again, Summer would question it later, take things one step at a time. Furina had eaten, and that was what mattered.

Tomorrow, they would get to work acquiring a second set of baby things. For now, Summer was happy to hold Furina in her arms, gently stroking her hair in a vain attempt to provide comfort in the face of such powerful grief.

Chapter Text

It was dark.

An audience hidden in shadow, watching. Judging.

It was cold.

Cold like their faces, accusing. Condemning.

Waves lapped at a shore.

Water bursting through the doors, raging. Consuming.

The Act was over.

Who was she without it?

Furina had failed.

Furina had failed.

Her nation, her people, were lost to the sea. And it was all her fault . Because despite being quite literally made for it, she hadn’t been a good enough actor to convince them. All those years watching trials, studying and making laws, and yet when her own trial came Furina somehow failed so thoroughly she managed to get herself executed.

Pathetic.

She remembered a sharp pain in her neck. She remembered dissolving into Hydro energy, slowly fading away, too consumed by sorrow to care. She remembered being relieved that she wasn’t cursed to remain trapped on her throne, dwelling on her failures for eternity. Even if she deserved to.

Furina had not expected to ever regain consciousness. 

Distantly, she heard the sound of footsteps on sand. A gasp. Faster steps, approaching quickly. Something warm lifted her up, a hand (was it larger than usual?) on her bare skin feeling for a heartbeat. Strange. Furina was pretty sure dead people didn’t have heartbeats.

It seemed whoever held her had found one though, as they breathed a sigh of what Furina thought was relief and suddenly she was enveloped in warmth. Whoever held her started moving, bringing Furina with them. 

Well, since she had a heartbeat and seemed to be able to breathe (albeit barely), she wondered if she could…

Furina opened her eyes.

She was greeted by a night sky adorned with a strange, broken moon, and the pale face of a woman. Who was definitely larger than usual. 

Or perhaps Furina was smaller.

Wait.

Furina took stock of her body. Or more accurately, she vaguely cast some part of her attention in the direction of her limbs, while the rest of her remained consumed by guilt and grief, but it was still enough.

A small, hysterical bubble of emotion rose in Furina’s chest, forcing out what would normally have been a part-laugh, part-sob (a sound she was all too familiar with) but in her current state came out only as a weak cough. Dimly she was aware it had caught the woman’s attention, silver eyes meeting her own, but Furina felt somewhat disconnected from whatever was going on there.

She was alive. (She was also a baby, but that was too much for Furina’s already overwhelmed brain to handle so she would just ignore it for a bit.) Aside from failing her Act, failing Mirror-Me, and failing her entire nation, Furina had also failed to die. Of course she would. She couldn’t seem to do anything right today.

(Some part of her was happy about this. Not all of Furina had wanted to die. The rest of her felt guilty for being happy about anything right now, and pushed that part of her down.)

Furina sank back into her sorrow, letting her awareness fade. She did not want to face the world today. Or ever again.

Time passed in a blur. Furina vaguely noticed voices, and being passed to another person’s arms. A light was shone in her eyes (not particularly pleasant, but she was far beyond caring). More voices. The words were not unfamiliar, but Furina felt no need to listen. Why bother, when the Act was over? She didn’t have to do anything any more.

She closed her eyes. The cost of that freedom was much too high.

Something poked at her lips. Furina ignored it. It went away. 

A hand rested on her forehead. Furina would have ignored it, if the hand were not accompanied by a… sensation. It felt like someone was scanning her soul, searching her very being for information. 

Furina, on pure instinct, pulled back, a tinge of panic washing through her. No one can know, she thought desperately. Please, NO ONE CAN KNOW.

The Act may be over, but the Act was also Furina, and it would not die so easily.

In the back of Furina’s mind, she felt something stir in response to her panic. It washed over her being, pulling her further away from that searching presence. Eventually, the intruding sensation receded, and Furina felt herself relax. 

Whatever it was that had protected her remained, coiled around her mind in a comforting embrace. 

Furina let herself fade into unconsciousness.

There were more voices. Furina was getting tired of voices. Why couldn’t they just leave her to her grief?

Someone else was holding her. Some part of Furina wanted her to open her eyes again, to see who it was. The rest of her was too busy drowning in sorrow to do anything. 

The part of her that wanted to look was insistent. Furina opened her eyes.

It was a man. He had a warm smile. Furina had met a lot of people like that. They had all died.

The woman with the silver eyes came back. Then she left. The man kept poking at her mouth insistently with something. Furina eventually recognized vaguely that he was trying to get her to eat.

Her people would never eat again.

Furina wasn’t hungry.

The sounds of a crying baby drifted to Furina’s ears. Maybe she should have been concerned. Or annoyed. She was too tired to care.

The silver-eyed woman held her again. She was also trying to feed Furina.

Furina wasn’t hungry. She wished they would just let her grieve in peace.

The man with the warm smile held her again. He was still trying to coax a bottle into her mouth. Furina was tired. She closed her eyes.

The man stopped trying.

Furina drifted off to sleep.

Furina’s cheek felt warm. The rest of her was cold, but her cheek was warm. Why?

She opened her eyes. She was in a crib. Someone was beside her. A(nother?) baby. The baby’s hand rested on Furina’s cheek.

Furina was cold. The hand was warm. It was comforting.

Furina didn’t deserve comfort. She had failed.

She let the hand stay there anyway.

The silver-eyed woman was trying to get her to eat again . She was speaking to Furina this time. Furina realized the woman was begging.

Furina wasn’t hungry. 

(She was. The pain in her heart was simply distracting her from the pain in her stomach.)

Some part of Furina had had enough. The same part that protected her from the searching presence earlier. It coiled softly around her mind, gently pushing Furina’s consciousness back to sleep. Furina didn’t fight it, sinking down into her sorrow.

When she resurfaced, it seemed little time had passed. The silver-eyed woman was still holding her, but seemed happier now. Furina supposed that was good. 

Just because she was suffering under the burden of her grief didn’t mean she wanted others to be miserable as well.

Furina’s failure had caused enough suffering for several lifetimes.