[Bianca Sabbato]

I had talked to Raul briefly earlier that day. Some of his objections and commentaries (Or plainly his very expressions) about our overall plan for infiltrating Kerch had made me kind of nervous.

His doubts were completely justified, but I was worried we as teammates were not on the same wavelength in regards to exactly how we would be acting and reacting during the extension of the mission.

I saw the wolf approaching from a distance with a slightly hunched posture that was easily recognizable, especially after the whole incident with the slavers a couple weeks ago...

Curious, how the tables had turned on me. Back then I was the one trying to make him slow down a little and now it would most likely be the exact opposite.

While sitting atop a wooden crate I greeted him with a nod of my head, signaling to take his own seat in another wooden box I had prepared for him if he wished to do so. His box was a little taller to accommodate for his bigger frame and was facing me directly just a couple feet away from me.

-Hello Raul. Thanks for coming. I wanted to talk with you about how are we going to tackle this operation here...- I spoke in a matter of factly way. As I wanted to genuinely discuss this with the other trainee, doing my best to not look as if I was pressuring or guilty tripping him into something. So I would be as transparent as possible, even if what was left to be seen was not pretty at all.

-I’m going straight to the point. We are outnumbered more than 30 to one out there. And by people who didn’t even take slaves for a personal gain- Better to get that out there as well, no time for niceties in a situation like this. If he wanted to call out my bullshit as well, he had a right to do so.

-This is an invading force that has made its way into the city by killing and being killed. These are not innocent people by any means and they may even be an anti faunus terrorist like the ones that attacked school some months ago...- I told him while handling a news article on my scroll from the One Anima News Network

The article itself was chock full of inconsistencies like for example announcing a disembark of thousands of white fang soldiers arriving from Menagerie and this going unnoticed by the city council (when Kerch was by no means a city big enough for something like this to happen willy nilly).

And basically exalted the invaders as freedom fighters looking against an enemy that no one with two functioning brain cells could ever believe even existed.

Bianca Sabbato may be a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them.

This was clearly a propagandistic move to justify a paramilitary group taking a city... Blatantly hatemongering and subtly calling for faunus mistreatment in the rest of the kingdom.

Same fucking thing my gang did to take over territory, you are supposed to gain the trust of the civilians living there, pretend to be the best available option...

-So I’m telling you what I plan to do. I’m going in there and killing those motherfuckers before they kill me. Saving innumerable lives in the process. If you have a problem with that, I genuinely want to hear it now and not in the middle of combat. So speak your piece, Raul- I invited, crossing my arms and letting him enough time and space to express himself.

---

604/604 Words.

[Raul Adalwulf]

Raul arrived at the spot where Bianca had summoned him. They had received some education in class on the various different divisions of the relief effort, and if he'd paid enough attention to know it, the wolf would have know that this was the logistics division, responsible for organization and storage of war materiale for the upcoming conflict. He was clearly unhappy. He didn't understand in any great detail what was going on or why, but understood the air of fear and desperation that filled every inch of the station. He'd been very happy when he received Bianca's summons, mostly because he hoped she would help him understand what was going on and why.

As he grew close to the site of their meeting however, Raul began to worry that would not be the case. He wasn't very good at knowing why people did the things they did, but he was quite capable of recognizing moods and emotions from those about him. He could tell by the grim expression on her face that he was not about to receive good news.

She gestured him to a nearby crate and he wondered if he was supposed to pick it up or something, but realized shortly that he was meant to sit there. Raul seated himself, if only to obey the instruction, but quickly gave up and simply squatted on the floor in front of his classmate. Then she started to speak, and Raul's heart fell right through the bottom of his stomach. As if a great weight had been tied to his gaze, it plummeted to the floor, followed quickly by his ear, and then his head as well. This felt awfully similar to the tongue lashing she'd given him after the incident at the bandit camp. Though he understood what she was saying only slightly better than he had then, the tone of her voice, stern, and grim, and steely, conveyed all the meaning needed. She was welcoming him to have an opinion, but her mind was already made up...

He winced as he remembered the man he'd thrown, and the way his body had been twisted by the impact, and he remembered the man who had been shot by his ally's rifle, body chewed up insides exposed. A deep frown settled on his heavy lupine features and his pale blue eyes trembled a little in their sockets. He couldn't bare to look at Bianca, if he saw the face she was making right then it would take him right back to that clearing.

"I don't want to hurt anyone..." He said quietly, feeling shame that he felt so ashamed of what he knew was an unpopular opinion, but was still what he felt in the very core of his heart, head sinking even lower until it felt like his snout must touch the floor, shielding his drooping ears with his hunched shoulders, "I don't want to kill anyone..."

489/489

[Bianca Sabbato]

I listened to Raul’s words, finding pretty much what I was expecting of the student’s demeanor. Exactly as expected, exactly as it should be, nothing more than what was completely normal to feel. Just a man not wanting to hurt it’s fellow man, wanting to be a hero and save people instead.

He was a good man, whatever ended up happening in this mission, I hoped he still would be able to see himself as one at the end of the long night.

-Me neither. At least we agree on something- I said, sighing deeply as I ran my hand all the way through my hair, idly taking one of the long dreads at the back of my head and playing with it around my fingers.

And it was not a hard confession to make, I would have made it in front of anyone else. Say the contrary and you were nothing more than a heartless killer, unfit to be anywhere near a huntsman position.

-I would prefer to be facing off against a full pack of grimm before harming another person. But I will still do it because I think it is necessary. Because I know that if it’s not me, then someone else will have to do it and that I would like it better if it was me- I was trained to do it, I had the skill and the nerves to do it, and if by doing so I can save someone else from the weight of the action, I will gladly do so.

I’m tainted already, I can do this with ease because I know there is nothing left to lose. Raul still has that priceless thing to care for, and he might as well end up losing it if he’s not careful about it.

-I would tell you to leave this to us, to avoid harming the enemy yourself and be content with it. But I know that would be unfair, that you still would need to see us doing that, powerless to stop us least the whole operation goes to hell-

It was such a cruel situation, that people like Raul should be dispatched to fix all of the council problems just because they somehow decided having no standing army was a good idea.

My own mutterings aside, as I saw him slumping in the ground I could not take it anymore and decided to go sit near him, my words not softer in any way. We were headed towards a warzone, better for him to take notice already.

-Raul, hold your head high, for you have done nothing wrong. But I need to ask you this, Raul... How do you intend to do this? To avoid hurting anyone, to avoid... Doing what we must, when the time arrives and there is no other way around?-

I looked at him straight in the eye, trying, but being completely unable to avoid the slight softening of my features as I saw my own reflection in his deep, blue eyes.

---

505/1109

[Raul Adalwulf]

Raul couldn't stop thinking about it, about that man at the camp. He couldn't stop thinking about how he'd taken a living breathing person and in the span of a moment or two, reduced him to nothing but a pile of meat and broken bones. It had been so easy, so horribly easy. It shouldn't be so easy to kill a man. It filled him with horror and disgust whenever he remembered it, but at the time he'd done it without a thought, with as much effort as hefting a bag of flour into the back of his father's buggy. He hadn't meant to do it, but it had just been that easy. It made him sick. It made him sad. It made him afraid.

"You did nothing wrong..." Bianca's voice like a spear driven into his chest.

"KILLING IS WRONG." Raul snarled, feeling a splinter of that anger and hatred he'd felt back in the camp, as he turned upon Bianca with teeth bared.

He showed to her a shred of the monster he'd been that day, his eyes dilated until they were almost entirely black, as his facial features deformed with deep creases that showed off an only vaguely human skeletal structure beneath. His lips spread and he displayed a mouthful of murderous fangs. For a moment he looked not even remotely human, but he seemed to realize it and then collapsed back in upon himself, trying to look as small as possible.

"Killing is wrong..." He repeated, all the passion absent from his voice as his head drooped once more, "Even if they are bad men. Even if they did bad things. Killing them is wrong."

He gave a great gusting sigh as he shuffled to turn away from his classmate, unable to tolerate her proximity at that moment.

"I don't know what to do..." He whispered, as he thought of his mother and father and what they would think of him if they had seen him crushing the life out of a man with his bare paws, "I am afraid. I am afraid of me."

His pale blue eys trembled as his voice trailed off in a croak.

"I am afraid of me, when I fight."

370/859

[Bianca Sabbato]

I saw his predatory fangs as he spat his words with a noticeable hint of rage and frustration in his voice. Only this time I didn’t back up from the beast. I was not afraid anymore, for I knew that what I had in front of me was not a mindless creature.

I could not falter, I could not show any weakness now.

-That’s good, if you weren’t afraid of yourself then you’d be a monster at worst or an idiot at best... You wield a power few other people in Remnant can boast of, being careful about it only seems like the natural option-

I saw him turn around and decided to respect his privacy. Shuffling in my crate, I did the same, now only disembodied voices for the other to hear. Somehow, this felt more private than before, as if that small gesture of pretended anonymity could let us express our true feelings and thoughts in the mater.

-Yes, killing people is wrong, and if this kingdom was run by anyone else than the incompetent fucks we have reigning over us, there’d probably be no need to do this-

Fucking idiots, idiots all of them. Spend money in an idiotic floating stadium instead or arming the people, or even building another huntsman academy so we are not fucked every time something happens to Haven.

-But people are going to get killed in Kerch anyway. If not by us, then by class blue once they return from their trip or by the untrained civilians throwing themselves at them like sheep towards the slaughter. Or ultimately by the grimm if we let this situation grow even bigger and the negativity keeps pooling on-

Seriously, what was this people's long term plan? Did they really tough they could occupy an entire settlement without an army of darkness coming for their asses at the end of the day. Seriously, the demand for retaking the city as fast as possible was most likely because of that possibility in my opinion.

-If you asked me, I would rather prefer people like you doing the deed, people who know how to differentiate right from wrong. Who will only hurt as much as they are made to... Not people like we both know exist out there, who will take advantage of the siege to do unspeakable things to innocents. People who would yearn for killing, that would enjoy it-

The real monsters, those we can’t allow getting even near this city, mercenaries, bandits, slavers, even serial killers... It wouldn’t be the first time people take advantage of a shitty situation only to make it worse.

-There is a lot of things worthy of fear in this world. We are right to fear a gun because, just like us huntsman, those can destroy a life in a moment’s notice... But do you know why we still keep guns around?- I asked, trusting the man was still behind me and listening intently at my words.

-Because we can lock them away, we can unload them, put a safety, and we will know that they will only be shoot at whatever we are pointing at once we pull the trigger... But we still teach about gun safety, because humans are fallible- I emphasized on the concept, even though I was sure he already knew this damn well enough... But just as I had said, no one is perfect.

-You need to treat yourself like such when you fight. Look for a target, make sure there is nothing in the way that could get harmed, point carefully, and let go of the bullet. Train, until you fire as true as a sharpshooter. Shoot only the necessary amount of times to accomplish your objective-

Don’t panic, don’t make any unnecessary moves, watch carefully before taking any step forward, and don’t solely limit yourself to "seeing"... But “distinguish” as they say it.

-Still, adding extra safety is always a good option, we people live and die by redundancy. So you will have the rest of us to help you if you lose yourself during the fight... At least, I’d like to think you will have me to keep an eye on you if you let me... I like the fact that you are afraid of yourself, Raul, it helps me trust you more-

Yes, that is exactly what I want in a teammate, not a gun-ho psycho eager to increase his or her body count as if like was nothing more than a dick measuring contest.

---

753/1863 Words

[Raul Adalwulf]

Raul sniffed loudly. He didn't know why, but he was glad that Bianca wasn't looking at him right then. Why should he be glad for that though? He'd cried in front of his mom a bunch of times, his dad too, but it always seemed to make the old wolf uncomfortable for a reason Raul didn't understand. Maybe that was why he was glad Bianca wasn't looking right then, because he was afraid she would get that same nervous expression on her face.

He wiped aggressively at the moisture that was already collecting in his eyes and making his nose run, suddenly angry for a reason he could not have articulated. Angry at himself, angry at the dead man, angry at the bandits, and even a little angry at Bianca too. He knew it wasn't fair, and that it wasn't Bianca's fault, but somehow that made him even angrier. He wished, not for the first time, that his mother was there. She was very wise, and always knew how to make sense of all the ways the world confused him. But his mom wasn't there, she was all the way in Argus, miles away from the nearest forest. 

The only person here for him was Bianca. She was the only one who he had to talk to, which was at least one more than it would have been a week or two ago. Why shouldn't that be just as good? Problem was, it wasn't just as good. It wasn't even close. But why?

"I like the fact that you are afraid of yourself, Raul, it helps me trust you more-"

Trust... It was a strange word. It was a word that Raul had so seldom had use for that he barely even understood what it meant. But that was it, in the moments that followed he realized that he didn't trust Bianca. Despite the fact that she'd been nice to him, and had helped those people, and had been brave and strong, and fair with him, Raul still didn't trust her. Why?

The answer was simple. She'd hurt people. She'd killed people. There was far more than a single dead bandit after that fight in the camp, and Raul didn't need to be a genius to do that math. He didn't trust people who hurt other people. Those bandits hurt people. Grimm hurt people. Hurting people was bad. How could he trust someone who hurt people...?

But that begged the question. Hadn't he hurt people too?

"Bianca?" Raul asked, his words already feeling inadequate beside the wisdom she'd offered but requiring to be said none the less, "What if I don't trust myself?"

443/1302

[Bianca Sabbato]

Was he... Was he crying?

My expression suddenly shifted from stern to surprised, and then to concerned... Have I been too rough with him? I didn’t believe so. Maybe I had been something in the way I spoke or acted...?

My first instinct was to turn around and try to see what had happened and maybe comfort him... But I stopped myself, he didn’t need that right now, what he needed, was exactly this. To put his thoughts and feelings into words, not to let his body language relay the information

Sadly, he needed a stern talking. If not from me then from anyone else. The fact he was this shaken was a proof of that, he needed to harden himself at least for the night. He could work with baby steps later, but for now, we needed him at the peak of his game.

Even so, when he finally dared to retort, it took me aback in a greater measure than what I would have been comfortable admitting. The sole tone of his voice already feeling like razor-sharp wires on my skin.

I was left speechless for a moment. Of all the things he could have said, I was not expecting that... But it made sense when you own a semblance so destructive as his, one that affects you in such an intimate piece of yourself as your brain... If I sometimes have problems keeping hold of mine, I could not begin to imagine what it is like to have his.

Crossing my arms and legs, I took a couple seconds to ponder in silence.

-Dunno. What does trust mean to you?. Who or what do you trust, Raul?- I asked with a leveled voice, more interrogative than accusatory.

In the end, I didn’t even know what he understood by "trust". Ever the powerful word, and one with as many interpretations as the shades of color in a rainbow.

-It can be a person, some particular knowledge, an object, an ideal. No big difference there- Some people hold personal trinkets of affection for their missing ones, some people have someone they love, other people rely on things like religion, morality, and personal philosophy as something to hold dear. All of those were perfectly valid options, no more or less valuable than the others.

-Take whatever your trust is in, hold onto that trust real tight, and use it to guide you... Who knows, maybe by using a substitute you hold dear, little by little you can start trusting yourself-

It was the best advice I could give, if you don’t trust in yourself, bequeath that trust into something else. No matter how silly it may look to others if it’s important to you.

I always held the most basics of instincts as the things I trusted. Trust that your desire to live will pull you trough, trust that you will hold on because you still dream of warmth and safety even if the world seemed colder every day.

You cannot be afraid, because you are not useful if you are afraid, and you don’t get to eat if you are not useful. Your mind must remain clear of any emotion on the battlefield because emotion leads to mistakes, and mistakes lead to you being killed

A great part of that was self-delusion, feeling invincible for the sake of it. Convince yourself of a lie that eats away at your heart and keep ignoring the pain.

-Can I share something with you, Raul?- I asked, in a voice only a little firmer than his own a moment before.

I don’t know why I went there. Did I genuinely thought it would help Raul hearing my own insecurities or it was simply our current position back to back that made It feel more like a confessional than a wide-open space?, and maybe that was the reason I dared to share a little bit of myself with the wolf behind me.

But speaking of the past would do no good, to either of us. In such a dark night as this, better to speak of something a little brighter for a change.

-I may look free, but I’m far from it in more ways than one ...I’m chained, Raul, but those are chains I put on myself willingly... I trust in the day I will be able to break free from them when I finally become worthy of my freedom-

In the end, my trust and desires now still laid within the realm of simple things. Because let’s be honest. What can a person desire in a more visceral way than their own freedom?

-And in turn, I can trust myself in knowing that I won’t fuck up my opportunity to get that which I desire so much-

Standing straight on the same crate I had been using until a second ago. I turned around to finally face the man again. Now that I felt like I could face him properly.

-Look at me for a second- I intoned, not a petition but neither quite an order. But that strange and elusive in between that denoted maybe more familiarity than what was proper.

-I don’t know if I would trust myself if not for these bindings I put around me... But I feel it’s enough for now, at least until I know how to trust myself properly...-

No hiding anymore, time to face things head-on.

---

903/2766 Words

[Raul Adalwulf]

Raul let Bianca's words sink in. Just like he had when she'd spoken to him after the fight in the camp. Again, as she spoke he felt each word tamping a tap down towards that bitter anger he still felt whenever he thought about what he'd done and what had been done in that camp, but in the intervening days he'd had more time to reflect on that. While he had reached no conclusions about why it had been the case, introspection not really being a talent of his, he had decided why he'd been so angry at Bianca for what she'd said to him, so angry in fact that even now days later he still felt a shadow of that anger, even when her words didn't even resemble what she'd said to him on that fateful day. He'd also decided since then, with the benefit of distance to for the wounds of that day to begin to close, that he wouldn't be angry with Bianca anymore. 

He wondered if she had thought about it since that day, or if she'd just accepted it like he had wanted to. Were he a different manner of being, he might even have wondered privately if Bianca ever stopped to ask why he'd been angry at her answer to his question. But he wasn't, the gods had made him without any shame in who he was and what he believed, and freed him from any timidity when it came to asking potentially uncomfortable questions. In fact it was a demonstrable fact that one of his most infuriating characteristics was when something didn't make sense to him, he would ask questions, regardless of how awkward it might be for those called upon to answer. So he did just that.

"Bianca..." He murmured, pausing to clear his sinuses with a great big sniff, "Do you know why I was angry with you in the camp?"

He turned to face her, hair shaggy and eyes puffy, but still no less the imposing tower of flesh and fur that he had always been. He looked both vulnerable and resolute in that instant, somehow at this low low point a perfect union of both the man and the beast that defined his existence. There was no malice in his expression, and no venom in his words. He simply needed to say something that he wanted his friend to hear.

"You hurt me... More than anything in that camp, except for seeing the horrible thing done to those people, you hurt me the most, and I don't think you even realized it." He said, his voice and temper low, and even tinged with something that might have been regret and genuine sadness, "I never hurt anyone before, and then I killed someone and when I did a little piece of me died too, and I had no one else to turn to to help me make sense of all the things I was feeling. Maybe that was unfair to ask of you, but there was no one else there. Just like it was unfair, but if we hadn't been there, those people wouldn't have had anyone either."

His voice broke a bit at the last and he blinked away a few fresh tears, but carried on none the less.

"I needed you. I needed a friend. I needed someone I could trust." his tone had turned bitter and unstable and his gaze fell to the floor, "Instead, you tried to give me reasons, and worse you tried to tell me that I was wrong! You tried to tell me things that I know right down in my very soul were wrong, and that I was wrong to feel them."

He swallowed, speaking in a whisper now, as if he were realizing these things himself no sooner than saying them out loud.

"I didn't need a lecture. I didn't need you to tell me everything I was feeling was wrong, and that I'd actually done the right thing. How would you feel if you cried and I told you that it was wrong to be sad? How would you feel if something cut you and I told you it was wrong to bleed? How would you feel if I said that bleeding was selfish? I didn't need that, and I refuse to accept you telling me that my feelings are wrong. They are mine, not yours. I'll never allow myself to be that killer who just feels nothing. We are people, not weapons. I am a person Bianca! Not a mindless beast! And those bandits I hurt, that man I killed, they were people too. You want someone to hurt someone else without feeling anything, then that's a Grimm you want, not me."


He steeled up again, for maybe the first time in his life picking his words very carefully before saying them out loud, "I didn't need a lesson... I was there for those people! I did things I know in my very soul are wrong for those people. Who was there for me Bianca?... I didn't need a weapon... I didn't need a warrior... I needed a friend... I was all alone, and I needed you... and you... you let me down..."

874/2,176

[Bianca Sabbato]

Now where the fuck did this come from? We were talking about trust. And all out of nowhere you throw all of your emotional baggage over me?

How would I feel if you told me crying was wrong? If you told me bleeding was wrong? Well, I apparently have to tell you that blood and tears are just weakness leaving the body. To act and talk as if everything was perfect and I was an unshakable figure out of legends.

I didn’t ask for this weight to be put on my shoulders... I was just trying to help. Sorry if I wasn’t up to your standards...

But I was supposed to be Bianca. The capable gal, the dependable huntress, and your best friend to both. I am the one supposed to live as if I’m walking through a thin rope between two buildings. Posing for the picture all along the line.

Just so you can feel safe.

-Dunno. It feels like everything I say lately is wrong. Not sure if remaining silent wouldn’t be better at this point- I admitted halfheartedly. Shrugging off and letting my hands fall down at my sides limply.

I don’t even know why I bother trying when it’s clear I’ll only end up hurting him more. He said it himself. That I was the second thing that hurt him more in that camp, even more than the woman trying to blow him away with grenades.

-I did not want to tell you that your feelings were wrong. You can feel however the fuck you want, man, even to dislike me if you want. I only think that there are a time and a place for feelings. And I didn’t feel like that was it- For as little as it was worth, I felt like I needed to at least try and clarify what had been my intention that day, or at least how I believed I needed to act.

-At least that’s how I been taught. That if you let your feeling flourish in battle, someone without feelings will come and kill you. I guess that was my mistake. Wanting to project my ideas on you...-

I should have just shut up that day. Let him wallow alone over that woman’s body. A woman I later had to execute because you left her slowly bleeding to death. I did that alone, of course. No one came to me after the fact.

-But at the end of the day, those are my ideas. I don’t know what you think or feel. I cannot tailor my responses to fit you, Raul. I tried to give you encouragement and failed. Thank you for having it against me-

You think you didn’t hurt me?

You think I liked having to jump straight into a melee because someone could not contain himself? Those are your so precious feelings Raul Adalwulf? Because you clearly showed them to that guy you were flinging like a ragdoll back in the camp.

Of course, because I was not scared at all back then. It’s not as if you tried to maul me the first second you laid eyes on me. It is not as if you weren’t clearly unstable when I found you in the camp.

Did you know that I was mentally measuring the time it would have taken me to unsheath my weapon because it seemed like you would jump me at any second? And still, I kept it on my back because I didn’t want to scare you. You, who was screaming at my face and transforming in front of me, baring teeth and throwing things left and right.

And still, in my own fucked up way I tried to comfort you, to tell you nothing you did was wrong... But fuck me I guess. Fuck my feelings. It is not as if I tried to open up a little with you just a second ago just for you to come with this bullshit again.

-You didn’t need me... You needed an idea you had of me. Not the Real Bianca... You needed that little girl to come and hug you, but that isn’t me. And even without me, you managed to get on your feet. Proof of that is the fact that you are confronting me right now-

Relaxing my posture. I sat down on the crate. Legs crossed and my hand resting on my jaw. A weird expression adorning my face as I addressed the wolf.

-Still. I guess it is fine for you to get these things out of your chest. Letting me know I have let you down and you cannot trust me- I hope it does good on you. I know I’m fucking ecstatic from hearing this just before embarking on a dangerous mission, this is exactly what I needed.

Whatever. It was not as if I needed his trust or good graces. I never had nor needed anything more than myself to pull through. That was not about to change anytime soon. I tried to be a huntress for him because that is all I ever knew how to be... And this was my reward.

-A grimm, huh?- I asked the wolf without rising my gaze from the floor. I guess that was an apt comparison, and nothing I hadn’t bought into myself if we are being honest. The very same things that I felt proud of were the ones that revolted me. Time to see how much did they revolt the man.

-And tell me, Raul, how do you see me then?- I asked, opening my arms wide to my sides. -Tell, me. What do you honestly think of me? Of the killer who just feels nothing, the one who is a mere weapon? Cause I feel like I deserve to know- Yes, come one, don’t hold back. Tell me exactly how much you and everyone else is so much better than me. Heavens know I deserve all of that and more.

Let’s see if you can practice what you fucking preach.

---

1008/3774 Words

[Raul Adalwulf]

Raul could tell almost immediately that he'd made a mistake. Bianca's smell turned bitter and acrid, and though she did her best to keep it off her face, he knew with unavoidable certainty that he'd offended her. It had not been his intention. Bianca wanted him to trust her, and he'd tried to tell her why he couldn't, and now she was angry with him. He couldn't control how he felt. He wasn't a machine that could just flip a switch and trust someone, least of all someone who had already wounded him deeply, deliberately or otherwise. He genuinely wanted to be Bianca's friend, but he couldn't be friends with someone who was going to hold him up to her own toxic expectations. He didn't hate her. He didn't even dislike her. He just didn't trust her.

Apparently that was unacceptable though. The momentary tension in her posture had Raul sincerely concerned that she was about to attack him. When she didn't, the relief only lasted until he realized she meant to hurt him with words instead. It made sense. What he'd said, if it hadn't actually hurt her, it must have seemed like some sort of attack, when really it was just Raul trying to lay the foundation to repair or salvage what could be reclaimed of their relations. Bianca was a fighter, and of course she would fight back when she felt like she was under attack. That was the problem though. She was a fighter, and he needed a friend, and the very cold bloodedness of her dedication to one and neglect of the other was the very core of his issue with her, and he'd tried to tell her in as gentle and clear of terms as he could manage. Of course, he was too stupid to know the right words to say, and just stupid enough to try anyway, and look what that had done.

He'd suspected this might happen, even before he'd said anything. This was pretty close to par for the course, and luckily he had time to shore up a defense against her counter attack, such that it only glanced off, though it still hurt knowing that she'd tried to hurt him at all, even worse because it seemed she didn't even realize that's what she was doing.

When she'd finished, Raul having endured each word like a piece of hot iron being hammered into shape, he nodded quietly, and wiped his eyes. 

"I'm scared of thunder..." He said, quietly at first, but growing a bit more confident when she didn't immediately interrupt him, "Have been all my life. I don't know why. Mom and Dad said that there was a big storm when I was a pup, and though I don't remember it, I never really forgot it either. No matter how big and strong I get, when I hear the thunder, I go right back to being a scared little pup."

He drew in a deep breath, puffing out his broad chest and looking up at the sky, as if recalling a treasured memory.

"One time during a storm, I told my mom I was sorry for being so scared, and that I wished I could be like the other kids  who weren't afraid." He continued, smiling faintly if somewhat sadly, "She told me, "It's not your fault how you feel. No one can control how you feel, not even you. That's what feelings are. When you hear the thunder and you get scared, that is a normal reaction to an abnormal situation, and it's not your fault. Your feelings belong to you, and anyone who tries to tell you how to feel is wrong. Its like cutting someone and telling them not to bleed. It's not possible.". To this day, I still believe her."

Raul stood up. What he was about to say wasn't going to make things any better, but he needed to say it anyway. He didn't need to stick around and find out what kind of counter attack Bianca would give him in exchange. He'd never been too proud to run from a fight that he had no hope of winning, and there seemed nothing to be gained by staying put for this one.

They'd both had options, an infinity of them in fact. When Bianca saw him distraught in the woods, having drawn blood for the first time in anger, she'd had the choice between trying to invalidate his feelings and just acknowledging them. She'd had a choice just now too, between hearing what Raul had to say, and dismissing it. Both times she'd chosen the path of the warrior. But maybe it was unfair to hold her to account for it, because maybe it hadn't been a choice for her any more than it had been a choice for Raul how he acted when he saw what those men were up to. Maybe she'd walked that path for so long that there weren't any branches left to turn off it. Maybe it was just their natures. A wolf and a lizard. But if that was the case though, then their natures were incompatible.

"What do I think of you? I think I can't control how your words made me feel in the forest, any more than you can control how mine made you feel just now. I think you are a good fighter, and a bad friend." Raul whispered, as he turned to begin away, "And I think you're wrong. There's a time and place for feelings? When is that if not after the fighting is done and we need to confront our actions? Or is that your answer, to never stop fighting so you don't need to worry about it? Personally, I think fighting is awful, and I want to do as little of it as possible, and I want there to be less of it in the world. Which is why I am going to leave right now, because you're my friend, and I don't want to fight you."

1,007/3,183

[Bianca Sabbato]

-Once I told my mentor I was scared of the dark... Yeah, weird coming from a Faunus, but it was another type of darkness I was scared off. He told me that fearing was ok, that the warrior who does not fear is the first one to fall. That there was no need to deny our fears- I said, trying to relate with him in any way. It was not the exact same words. But the meaning was pretty much the same, right?

Thing was. We also didn’t need to let our fears cripple us. And we need to learn how to reign in negative emotions and desires... So, to be completely honest, I did not fully agree with his mother’s philosophy. Sincerely. I believed lessons like those could be awfully dangerous if they were to fell on the wrong minds... But that was something I would not tell him, at least not for now, maybe never.

I seemed to have bothered him enough with what I had already said. No use throwing more coal into the flames.

All of these things I was thinking after offering my small observation when it finally came the time for him to answer my question... I wanted him to not hold anything back. And in a sick, twisted way, I was glad when he didn’t. His words felt like chewing glass shards, but maybe they were necessary.

He started talking about feelings again. That accursed word that always seemed so elusive, so distant. And reprimanding me about the right time and place for them (Kinda like I had done earlier)

I wanted to tell him that we don’t do that in front of scared civilians who had just passed through the most traumatic experience of their lives. But I knew my words would have fallen in deaf ears anyway. He was talking with and for the heart. So no amount of words would be able to sway his will.

But those were just menial disagreements compared with what was about to come. When he finally started dropping the bombs.

A good fighter, that was debatable. A bad friend... That was interesting... Was I even his friend? Why so? Because we fought together? Because we went to the same academy and were in a mission together?

Was he even my friend? Why so? Because we had met by mere chance? Because he had followed when I told him to get the leader of the bandits? Because we were having a small conversation or simply because he said so?

And I was a bad friend because I had shown him a figment of my personality? Or because I had been crass about it? I could be way worse, to be honest. I was trying to be as civil as I could and he probably was doing just the same.

I guess you go on about your life, living as a small terracotta doll, and as soon as you show but a glimmer of emotion, you push everyone away. But that's nothing new, that’s what people tend to do, they come into your life, they may pretend benign intentions at first, but in the end, they always hurt you and disappear.

So, of course, he would go away after calling me a friend. Make me swallow the hook whole before returning me to the water... And now I felt like I was drowning. I didn’t feel angry, just... Kinda sad, and empty.

But those were reprehensible thoughts. Those were the bad part of Bianca sipping into my brain. I tried to put those feelings aside and look at things in a more levelheaded light. Raul didn’t deserve those particular feelings, those were all me.

And then, there was the real meat of the bone. The only thing I felt he had no real right to say to me. That I never stopped fighting only so I never had to confront my actions.

It was pretentious, it was uncalled for, uninformed, and more than anything else it was...

-You are right about that- I told him in a low voice. Not really pointing out what I was talking about specifically. I was mostly something said more to myself than to him anyway. But yeah, if there was a way to describe Bianca Sabbato, it was probably as a girl that kept herself busy with as many shits as she could find to avoid being a minute alone with her own mind.

And that reminder felt like ice in my stomach. If I had any reason to resent him then, it was for pointing out that. I may have criticized his actions, but I never started calling names, I never attacked his very being even tough he seemed hellbent on thinking otherwise.

As much as that took me aback. I could not linger in such feelings. There still were matters to address. So I would not lash out at him for doing exactly what I had asked of him. He probably didn't notice nor intended it anyway.

I didn’t like to fight either. The implication that I did hurt me in the deepest crevices of my soul. I loathed fighting with all of my heart and I wanted to be less of it in the world, that was the reason why I fought so much.

Because fighting was something awful, and with that, I feel like there is no further need for clarification for my actions, for why I sought battle so steadfastly and fiercely.

And sometimes, much like a balm applied in time. Fighting is necessary. Or at least, it is better than to let the wounds fester. To mail the problem to our future selves and permit the torn on our sides to sprout their roots.

-Could you please not leave?- I asked in a sincerely pathetic voice. Getting on my feet immediately as I realized he had turned to leave. Yeah, those magic words seemed to have that effect on me even after all these years. Works like a charm.

With wide eyes and mouth agape, I realized how I had risen my arm in his direction apparently without even noticing nor wanting it. Taking a deep breath to steer me again. I prepared to speak with him again, in a questioning, but not aggressive tone if he was still here. Screaming for him to listen if he decided to run away.

There was something that I needed to know. Something that didn’t click for me.

-Why do you consider me a friend, Raul? If I’ve done nothing but hurting you?- This was true, after all. It was not as if we had a long-spanning relationship. Only that furtive incident in the forest where very few people could have said anything resembling a friendship could have been forged. Still, I wanted to know. Why had he thrown that dart at me and now was hiding his hand?

He had called me a warrior and a friend, in a clear juxtaposition between the terms. They were supposed to be opposites, to be completely incompatible but...

Couldn’t I be both?

-If you want me to be your friend. You will have to put up with me wanting to fight you because that’s my way of being a friend. Just as I will have to put up with you as well-

Because I respect you more for bringing this up with me. And right now, the very last thing I need is for you to go away with your tail between your legs.

-So could you please not leave?... And if you don’t want that. You don’t need to force yourself to be my friend if doing so will only make us both miserable- I concluded, mad at him, angry, but not hateful. Never hateful.

---

1297/5071 Words.

[Raul Adalwulf]

Again, from the first Raul was worried that Bianca didn't understand why he'd said the things he'd said. It would have been frustrating, had he nt already accepted the reality that he was never likely to meet anyone who actually understood him. He'd been alive more than twenty years and had yet to meet anyone who thought the way he did, and who could comprehend the way he tried to convey those thoughts. The closest he'd come had been his mother, but even she always seemed stranded at a distance, unable to penetrate what to her was a beautiful but alien mind.

The point of what he'd told her hadn't been that he was afraid. The point had been that he couldn't help it. People can't help how something, anything, makes them feel. People can't just decide what they feel, anymore than they can just decide not to bleed. 

If you show a good man evil, he will feel something. If you cut any man, he will bleed.

Raul in the forest hadn't decided to be horrified or distraught at what had happened. It wasn't his choice to lose all semblance of control and rampage through the camp like a monster out of myth. He hadn't decided to feel fear, and hatred, and anger, and sorrow, in such volume that they momentarily broke his mind and shattered his reason into so many pieces that even now he couldn't be certain he would ever put if back together neatly. His outrage, his despair, his feelings hadn't been a decision any more than it had been his choice that those people were in the cages in the first place.

If you wanted to argue trauma, then hadn't he been traumatized too? He would remember the faces of those captive people for the rest of his life. He had already awoken more than once weeping with their soot and tear streaked visages burned into his nightmares, most recently on the exact train that brought them here. How was it fair to compare his trauma to theirs? They had suffered more, there was no question of that, but trauma was still trauma. Between witnessing for the first time the ugliest side of humanity that had even turned to face him, and committing an act that he held in his heart to be the height of sin not a few minutes later, forever staining his immortal soul with the crime of having taken another person's life, how could you not call that traumatic? How could you call that anything but traumatizing?

And Bianca's reaction to him, to him reeling and suffering from that trauma still fresh as a wound upon his heart, was to, in essence, tell him to suck it up.

It had been cruel. It had been unjust. And though that did not make Bianca herself either cruel or unjust, her actions in the face of Raul's pleas for aid had been the red flag standing high over a twisted world view, a symptom of her own malignancies and her own traumas no doubt handled poorly by others and having left deep scars on her soul. Blessed be the fortune that caused Raul, even in his traumatized state to still have the strength of will and presence of mind to reject those toxic beliefs. 

He expected her to not want him to leave. He expected her to see it as a defeat or a failure, and to fight on even after all was lost. Raul had no doubt it was how should behave in a real fight, though to him fighting with words was still fighting, so still just as real. He was prepared to just keep walking, to turn his fight into a withdrawal from the battle and accept whatever consequences would come of his forfeiture. But her question made him pause.

If he hadn't already been convinced that she hadn't the first idea of how to relate to him, or of how his mind actually functioned, then what Bianca asked would have been enough to convince him. To him it was such an inexplicable question, with such an obvious answer that for a moment he couldn't even begin to answer it. It was like she'd just asked him why the sky was blue, or why things fell to the earth when you dropped them, and didn't fly away instead. He stood still, still facing away, with one ear cocked quizzically while that other lay flat against his head. He had to think carefully before answering.

"You're my friend..." He said, as if trying to reach the answer himself as he was saying it, though really just trying to put it in terms that Bianca could understand.

Raul didn't have any friends. Not really. At least not in the way that Bianca likely thought about the concept of friendship, wherein it was a contract mutually decided between two people built upon a rapport and propinquity. For one who had spent all his life on the fringes, rejected, or excluded, but still clinging valiantly to a nature so pure that he didn't even realize what a struggle it was, "friendship" had a different meaning. Everyone was his friend. Period. And when he'd seen those people in cages, those had been his friends suffering unjustly, and when he'd mauled that woman, that had been a potential friend he'd been forced to assault lest she harm others, and that man he'd killed... if not for having walked a different path in life, he would have been a friend too, and to Raul that was just the same. Even the Grimm and even the hares he hunted for food in the woods, were all possible friends but for an accident of fate. It was a complicated way to view the world, and a simple one. It was something that at his core defined how he engaged with the world around him, and what defined his decision in some shape or form at nearly every level. To question it was to question a cornerstone of his identity as self evident and axiomatic as the concept of gravity. Why was Raul your friend? Why does an object dropped from your hand fall to the ground and not fly away? Because that's just how it is.

He never decided to be angry with her for what she'd done in the woods, any more than he decided that she was a friend. The very notion that it was, as she'd implied, something he could or would have to force was patently absurd to him.

Bianca was his friend, because that was what his feelings said. It was a sword that cut both ways.

"You're my friend, because that's just how I feel." He finished, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, as he glanced over his shoulder at her with a faint grin on his face, giving him a hunt of that wolfish inhuman aspect. 

Perhaps Bianca's mistake had been hearing what she expected to hear and not what he'd actually said. He'd never said she couldn't be a friend and a warrior. He'd never said he disliked her, only that he disagreed with her. He'd never said she was a bad person, only that she'd done something he disagreed with. There were probably a lot more misconceptions as well, but it was too late now to go back over the conversation and try to address every single one, and to even attempt it would spoil the spirit of the exercise. He'd done his best, and probably failed, but the threat of failure had never been much of a deterrent to Raul anyway.

And with that, he kept walking. He had nothing left to say, and his heart was light with all he'd managed to get off his chest. In his mind there was nothing more that could be done to end this encounter more amicably.

"... And even if you hurt me, I'll still forgive you. I'll see you on the mission."

1,336/4,519

[Bianca Sabbato]

I wanted to hit Raul square in the face when he turned and grinned at me after offering the most moronic excuse for an answer I’ve ever received.

It felt... Hollow. Not insincere. But there was a definitive lack of deepness to his words that resonated the wrong way with me. For they sounded almost like feeling without reason.

Or a reason so abstract I had no way of understanding it.

I remembered an old adagio I was taught so many years before. Ironically, one received from my mother.

Heart. Soul. Mind.

Three aspects that compose a living person. The feeling can only make it so far without comprehension, just as comprehension without feeling is devoid of any value. And both are eventually subjugated to the will.

I felt his will and his feeling were there, but I was not sure there was comprehension in is words.

And being myself one with a clear and palpable imbalance in one of those departments as well, it was simply impossible for us to understand each other.

-Stay safe- I courtly called back as I stood there, ruminating on my thoughts. And on how bitter the whole reunion had felt for me.

If we were talking about feelings... I felt like I needed to be honest with myself, accept my emotions and innermost opinions for what they were, not to try and comply with what the world at large, and even a more superficial aspect of myself expected from me.

And those feelings ultimately lead to a realization. One that at a first glance may have looked like a depressing outcome, but in reality was probably more like a sign of growth, something (in a way) much more healthy than the alternative.

No matter what Raul thought and felt. Even if he were to put me into his skin and make me feel and think as he did... My conviction would have remained strong.

And it told me that friendship was not a one-way road, it was a two people job. Anything else was just a lesser conception of the word.

I needed to reciprocate for it to be a real friendship...

And maybe I didn’t want to be Raul’s friend... And that was fine.

With a vacant expression. I watched as the wolfman disappeared in the distance. It was always a stressful experience, seeing someone walk away from your life, even if it is someone you just met.

But it was alright, after all, this was my choice at the end of the day.

We were too dissimilar to work together. He was a beast driven by pure emotion, and I was a beast driven by the suppression of emotion. I could not even begin to understand his way of thinking and acting, and the very little he had told me of his upbringing had left a sour taste in my mouth in regards to how he was raised.

I didn’t think that letting your most primal emotions dictate your life was a healthy way of living... But I wouldn’t be so entitled as to judge him either. Especially when I was no better by any means.

After all, some of the things he said were true. I remember feeling something the first time I killed someone... But by the time the second instance came to pass, those feelings were already completely purged from my heart. Nowadays I felt more emotion from eating a tasty pretzel than from taking a life, and I dared call myself a huntress to both.

Funny, where the roundabouts of life take us.

I think Holly herself said it in simpler words. It was like a cup filled with piss. No matter how hard you try to repair it or reshape it. Its essence has already been corrupted. At the time I tried to give her encouraging words, to tell her she could shine even despite the stains...

And as much as I liked to beat myself over it... Maybe it was time for me to start listening to my advice.

It was fair of me to expect the same from him? No.

Was it fair to ask him to contain himself just a little? I liked to think I was.

I was not a monster, neither was he... We were simply too weird and too different to connect. And during the whole exchange, not even once I felt like he was making any attempt at listening to me. Hearing? Of course. But... Listening?

Then again. Probably he felt the same way about me.

I asked him to stay. Because if we were to have a relationship then I needed him to stay and talk with me... And he ran away... He said he forgave me. But actions speak louder than words. In the end. It was as simple as that.

So I would do the same. If I weren’t able to walk away from relationships that would bring me nothing but pain. I would still be subjugated to that long and tall shadow I could still to this day see sometimes lurking on the edge of my vision.

For me, connections were about the quality, not the quantity. And if you weren’t happy in a relationship...

But enough of that. We had a city to liberate. And those poor people needed me to be at the top of my game for them.

Calling the earth around me to grow and form in front of me. I raised a pretty statue of myself, up to scale, and almost perfect in every detail.

Contemplating my work, I gave a satisfied nod and unsheathed my weapon as I made her take a fighting stance.

Facing the statue of myself, I watched for feeble spots and imbalance in my posture. Intentions in my form and overall weaknesses that a potential enemy could take advantage of.

All the while repeating a mantra of loosely related words and concepts as I made a mental note to correct every little inconsistency and fault in my posture.

“Steel your resolve, mute your feelings. Control your breathing and calm your pulse. Open your eyes but not too much, pay attention to your surroundings. You are now an empty vessel, perceive the world around you and plan your every move, play every note by the tune of your endeavor, ignore everything else from the pain to the ecstasy that may cloud your will force”

…

“You are ready. My child”

Alright... Let’s go then. There’s work to be done.

With a small grin, I gazed towards the battlefield.

For I was a warrior. And warriors grew with conflict.

---

1102/6173 Words.

[Raul Adalwulf]

The scent of Bianca's bitter anger followed Raul as he departed. He had expected it, in so far as everything he had said with the best of intentions had made the lizard angry with him. He had no solution for that. For his part he harbored no ill will towards her, even in spite of a pivotal role in making what had been the hardest day of his life that much harder for him. He had no remedy to offer her for what he considered to be a warped and poisonous view of the world, other than his simple observation that he thought it was wrong. He couldn't change how she felt. He couldn't force Bianca to be something else. Some things just were, and no matter how much you wanted to something you cared about to be something else, it just didn't work that way. Raul's parents, who watched their son start his life as a mute, and grow into a strange giant with peculiar notions of how the world worked, could testify to that.

The one thing that struck Raul as he left though, the only element of the exchange that he hadn't felt satisfied by, was that Bianca had never apologized to him. She'd never even given him an indication that she was sorry. He'd told her, in no uncertain terms, that she'd hurt him, had hurt his feelings. Instead of saying sorry, or trying to understand his point of view enough to realize why he might have wanted an apology, Bianca had doubled down, had grown bitter and distant for his daring to challenge her. She tried to act as if those feelings didn't matter, as if they were wrong, and Raul had to wonder why. For his part he had no doubt that his feelings were real, just as real as any other part of him, and Bianca's feelings were just as real a part of her as well. To try and sever feelings to be a better fighter made no more sense than cutting off any other body part because it got in the way. Cutting yourself off from your emotions didn't make you more whole, it made you less, and Raul regretted deeply that it was by all indications the choice that Bianca had made, and expected him to make as well.

Then, her refusal to apologize, or to even realize that an apology might be needed, was denying him a salve to mend that injury. It was a salve that would have eased the pain just enough to make further conversation possible. Instead, denied that relief, Bianca's words were just salt and grit in the wound, and Raul knew he wouldn't be able to tolerate it long enough for a meaningful discourse. That was why she was a bad friend in his mind, not because she had hurt him, but because when he told her that was what she'd done, she didn't even offer him an apology. As much as he would have loved to continue the conversation and mend the gulf between them, he had to look after himself, because no one looked after him anymore, and that meant amputating the conversation before it could poison his wounds.

An apology would have helped him to begin the process of healing from that day, because even though his body had recovered admirably, his spirit and his mind were still wounded. Now the only recourse he had was the same requirement of any other injury, and that was time. If Bianca ever reflected and realized her part in his harm, and apologized for her part in worsening it, then he would gladly include her in that process. As it stood however, it was, as it was for many things since he'd left his family's cottage in Toll, a duty he had to carry out alone.

572/5,091

[Wolfe]

XP Distribution:

Raul: 51

397 + 51 = 448

Bianca: 61

169 + 61 = 230