[RWBY] RWBY Shorts

The free period stretched lazy and golden across Beacon's campus, sunlight spilling through the common-room windows in warm pools. Yang had volunteered to babysit while Jaune was in an extended sparring session with Pyrrha—something about "perfecting shield transitions" that had already run thirty minutes overtime. Mia didn't mind. Auntie Yang had the best stories, the best tickle attacks, and—most importantly—the best lap for curling up on while watching silly cartoons on her scroll.

They were sprawled on the couch now, Mia tucked against Yang's side, legs dangling off the cushion, stuffed bunny held tight. The cartoon played on mute; neither of them was really watching anymore.

Mia tilted her head up, ears twitching thoughtfully.

"Auntie Yang?"

"Hmm?" Yang glanced down, fingers still absently braiding a small section of Mia's blonde curls.

Mia's big blue eyes were very serious. "Will you give me a baby brother or sister?"

The question landed like a grenade.

Yang blinked. Once. Twice.

She coughed, cheeks going faintly pink under her tan. "Uh… wow. Straight to the point, huh, kiddo?"

Mia nodded solemnly. "You said you'd help Papa make one. At that dinner. Everyone was yelling. It was loud."

Yang winced, remembering the cafeteria chaos. "Yeah… that was… a lot of grown-up yelling."

"So?" Mia pressed, undeterred. "Will you?"

Yang exhaled slowly through her nose, smile turning softer, a little wistful. She shifted so she could look Mia in the eye properly.

"I'd like to, squirt. I really would."

Mia's ears perked hopefully. "Then why not?"

Yang hesitated, thumb brushing absently over the little girl's hand. "Because… I'm not sure I'm ready yet. Not sure I'm ready for all of it."

Mia's brow furrowed. "Why?"

Yang's throat worked. She stared at the muted cartoon for a second-some brightly colored hero punching a cartoon Grimm-monster-before answering.

"When my mom—Summer—died, I was little. Ruby was even littler. Dad shut down for a while. So I… I had to be the grown-up. I cooked, I cleaned, I made sure Ruby got to school, got to bed, got hugs when she was scared. I basically became her mom when I was still a kid myself."

Mia's eyes went wide. She looked down at her bunny, then back up. "Just like me?"

Yang's heart did something painful and warm at the same time. She nodded slowly.

"Just like you, kitten."

Mia's lower lip wobbled. "Are you gonna leave me and Daddy too?"

Yang's arms went around her instantly, pulling her close until Mia's face was tucked against her collarbone.

"Never," she said fiercely, voice rough. "Ever. Not in a million years. Not even if the world ends and Grimm eat the moon. I'm here. You and your dad—you're stuck with me, okay?"

Mia sniffled into Yang's shirt, small arms wrapping as tight as they could. "Okay."

They stayed like that for a long minute, Yang rocking her gently, chin resting on the top of her head.

Mia's voice came out muffled. "Then why can't you be my new mama?"

Yang's jaw worked. She stared at the wall over Mia's shoulder, eyes stinging.

"It's… complicated," she said finally. "Grown-up complicated. Your papa's heart is still really full of your mama. And that's okay. It takes time. And I… I wanna do this right. For you. For him. Not just because it feels good in the moment."

Mia pulled back just enough to look up at her. "But you love us?"

Yang's smile was small and very real. "More than Nora loves pancakes. And that's saying something."

Mia giggled wetly. "Pancakes are the best."

"Exactly."

The door opened.

Jaune stepped in, hair mussed, armor still on, looking equal parts exhausted and apologetic.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, already reaching for Mia. "Pyrrha wanted to run the shield forms one more time. Went long."

Yang stood, handing Mia over with exaggerated care. "You're on thin ice, Vomit Boy. This one was starting to think you'd been eaten by a Nevermore."

Jaune winced. "I know, I know. I owe you."

Yang smirked, then softened. "Hey. You two want to ditch campus for dinner? Your treat? There's that noodle place in Vale Mia likes—the one with the spicy broth and the pork dumplings."

Mia's ears shot straight up. "YES! And ice cream?"

Jaune laughed tiredly. "I'll think about it."

Mia immediately turned the full force of her big blue eyes on Yang. "Auntie Yang, please tell Daddy ice cream!"

Yang laughed. "Listen to your dad, squirt."

Mia giggled and nodded solemnly, already plotting.

Jaune scooped her up, settling her on his hip. "Thanks again, Yang. Really."

She waved him off, but her smile lingered. "Anytime. Let's go feed the tiny dictator, huh?"

As they left, Mia twisted in Jaune's arms to wave at Yang. Then, when she thought Jaune wasn't looking, stuck her tongue out playfully.

Yang winked back, mouthing "Ice cream later."

Jaune pretended not to notice.

But he smiled anyway.

Pyrrha stepped off the airship ramp with a weary sigh, the weight of the day's commercial shoot clinging to her like Mistral's humid air. The director had been relentless—endless takes of her "invincible" smile for some energy drink ad, all while she balanced on a wire rig pretending to battle holographic Grimm. Her muscles ached, her ponytail was slightly askew, and the faint glitter of stage makeup still dusted her cheeks. But Beacon's spires rose welcoming against the late afternoon sky, and that alone eased the knot in her chest.

She checked her scroll: early enough to swing by the academy's daycare before the others got back. A small smile tugged at her lips. Mia time. That always made everything better.

The daycare was a bright, chaotic haven tucked into Beacon's lower levels—walls painted with murals of heroic Huntsmen, toys scattered like battlefield debris. Mia spotted her instantly, ears perking straight up from behind a fort of foam blocks.

"Big Sister Pyrrha!" The little girl bolted across the room, leaping into Pyrrha's open arms with the unbridled enthusiasm only a four-year-old could muster.

Pyrrha caught her easily, exhaustion melting away as she hugged Mia close. "Hello, little one. Ready for a snack? I hear the cafeteria has fresh apple slices today."

Mia's blue eyes lit up. "With peanut butter? And no carrots?"

Pyrrha chuckled, setting her down and taking her tiny hand. "No carrots. I promise."

They wandered to the cafeteria, the halls quiet with most students still in classes or training. Pyrrha grabbed a tray—apple slices (with peanut butter), a yogurt for Mia, and a simple protein shake for herself. They claimed a corner table by the windows, overlooking the training fields where distant figures sparred under the fading sun.

Mia dipped an apple slice with gusto, chattering about her day—something involving a finger-painting Grimm that looked suspiciously like a Beowolf with cat ears. Pyrrha listened with half her attention, the other half drifting to the warmth of the moment. These quiet times with Mia felt like a glimpse into something deeper, something she wasn't sure she deserved.

Then Mia paused mid-bite, tilting her head curiously. "Big Sister Pyrrha… can you give me a sibling?"

Pyrrha nearly choked on her shake. She set the cup down carefully, cheeks warming. "A… sibling? Mia, that's not exactly how it works."

Mia's ears drooped slightly, but her eyes were earnest. "But you like Papa, right? And Papa likes you. Auntie Yang said that's how you get siblings—when grown-ups like each other a lot."

Pyrrha's flush deepened. She glanced around the empty cafeteria, ensuring no eavesdroppers. "I… care very much for your papa, Mia. He's kind and strong and… wonderful. But it's complicated. I'm… nervous about things like that."

Mia frowned, dipping another apple but not eating it. "Why nervous? Is it like when I have to fight the dark in my closet?"

Pyrrha smiled softly, touched by the innocence. "A little. When I was a girl, not much older than you, I visited an oracle in Typhon—a city near Argus, in the Hellenic League. She told me I'd do something great one day… but that I'd suffer great sorrow, and I'd face it alone."

Mia's nose wrinkled. "That's dumb. How could she know the future?"

Pyrrha's voice gentled. "The gods give her visions, or so they say. Prophecies from the old ways."

Mia shook her head firmly, ears twitching. "Papa told me there's only one God, and He doesn't want people to be unhappy. He loves them. So why
would He make you sad alone?"

Pyrrha's breath caught. Out of the mouths of babes. She stared at the little girl, heart twisting. "I… don't want to believe the prophecy, Mia. But I'm afraid. Afraid of getting close to your papa, of subjecting him to the loss I might bring. What if the sorrow comes, and it hurts him too?"

Mia reached across the table, patting Pyrrha's hand with sticky peanut-butter fingers. "That's super dumb. Papa would love you anyway. Like he loves me, even when I'm bad."

Pyrrha laughed—a soft, watery sound—blinking back unexpected tears. "You're wiser than you know, little one."

Mia wasn't done. "Is there more dumb stuff?"

Pyrrha hesitated, then sighed. "My mother… she's very controlling. She has plans for me—tournaments, endorsements, a life mapped out. I'm afraid of going against her. Of choosing my own happiness."

Mia's face scrunched up in pure four-year-old outrage. "That's really dumb! Why would your mom want you to not be happy?"

Pyrrha leaned back, staring out the window. "It's… grown-up stuff, Mia. Complicated."

"Grown-up stuff is dumb," Mia declared solemnly.

Pyrrha met her eyes, a real smile breaking through. "Yes. Yes, it is."

The cafeteria door swung open then, and Jaune strode in—hair damp from a post-workout shower, hoodie slung over his shoulder, looking every bit the exhausted but content dad. His eyes lit up when he spotted them.

"Mia! Pyr!"
"Papa!" Mia slid off her chair and barreled into him. He scooped her up effortlessly, hugging her tight and nuzzling his nose against hers in their ritual Eskimo kiss. She giggled, nuzzling back with enthusiasm.

Pyrrha stood, brushing crumbs from her lap, her earlier nervousness fading under the warmth of the scene. "Jaune. I'm glad to see you."

He set Mia down, ruffling her hair before turning to Pyrrha with a soft smile. "You too. Beat me to pickup duty, huh?"

She nodded. "Early flight back. How was training?"

"Brutal, but good." He glanced at the half-eaten snacks. "You two look cozy. Up for dinner? I was thinking that noodle place in Vale."

Pyrrha's heart skipped. "I'd like that. Very much."

Mia grinned mischievously, grabbing one of Jaune's hands and one of Pyrrha's. "Let's go now!"

They started toward the door, Mia swinging between them like a happy pendulum. Then, with a sly look, she yanked her hands free—pushing theirs together instead—and darted ahead, giggling wildly as she skipped down the hall.

Jaune sighed, shaking his head fondly. He made to pull away, but Pyrrha's fingers laced tentatively with his, warm and callused from training. He looked at her in surprise.

Pyrrha's breath caught, but she squeezed back, her smile shy and bright.

"I… don't mind."

"Me neither," he murmured.

They walked like that, hands entwined, Mia's laughter echoing ahead like a promise of simpler, less dumb grown-up stuff.

For now, at least.

Weiss adjusted her posture on the low bench in Beacon's Star Maiden Garden, the afternoon sun filtering through the tree leaves like scattered diamonds. Mia sat cross-legged beside her, meticulously arranging a collection of wildflowers they'd picked—daisies for "happy thoughts," buttercups for "sunshine giggles," as Mia had declared with solemn authority. The little girl's ears twitched every time a bee buzzed by, but she was focused, tongue poking out in concentration.

Weiss had volunteered for pickup duty today, her schedule clear after a morning seminar on Dust applications. It was a small thing, but these moments with Mia felt like stolen breaths of fresh air. A from lectures, away from the weight of the Schnee name that still clung to her like frost on glass.

Mia held up a lopsided crown of woven stems. "Auntie Weiss! This is for you. It's a princess crown 'cause you're a princess!"

Weiss's lips curved in a genuine smile, accepting the gift and placing it carefully atop her white hair. "Thank you, Mia. It's perfect. Shall I make one for you?"

Mia nodded enthusiastically. Weiss pulled her into her lap, and began to weave her down flower crown. The four year old then tilted her head, ears twitching slightly.

"Auntie Weiss… why don't you talk about your mama and papa like Papa talks about Granny and Papa?"

Weiss paused mid-weave, fingers stilling on the stems. Mia's innocent curiosity had a way of cutting straight to the heart, but there was no malice in it, just a child's endless wonder.

Weiss set the half-finished crown aside and turned to face her fully, keeping her voice light and gentle, like telling a bedtime story.

"Well, little one, my family is… a bit like a big, fancy castle made of ice. It looks beautiful from far away, all shiny and tall, but inside, it's very cold and sometimes lonely."

Mia's eyes widened, ears perking. "Cold like winter? But you like snow!"

Weiss chuckled softly. "I do like snow—when it's soft and fun to play in. But my castle… my papa was like a king who cared more about gold and rules than hugs. He made everyone follow his orders, even when it made them sad. My mama… she tried to be warm, but the cold made her tired, so she hid away with her special drinks that grown-ups use when they're unhappy."

Mia's nose wrinkled. "That's not nice. Papas should give hugs and make pancakes. Why was he mean?"

Weiss reached over, tucking a stray curl behind Mia's ear. "Sometimes grown-ups forget how to be kind because they're scared or hurt from their own castles. My big sister Winter—she's like a brave knight—ran away to join the army so she could protect people and be free. My little brother Whitley… he's still in the castle, learning the rules, but I think he wants to be warm too someday."

Mia thought about this, her tail swishing slowly. "Did you run away like Auntie Winter?"

Weiss nodded, her expression softening with pride. "I did. I came to Beacon to learn how to be a Huntress, to fight the real monsters and make my own path. Away from the cold rules. Now I have a new family—your papa, you, the teams. It's warmer here. Full of hugs and adventures."

Mia's face brightened, and she threw her arms around Weiss's waist in a fierce hug. "You're my Auntie Weiss! No more cold castle. We have pancake castle now!"

Weiss hugged her back, a quiet laugh escaping as she blinked away the unexpected prick of tears. "Pancake castle sounds perfect, Mia. Absolutely perfect."

Mia pulled back, still beaming, then tilted her head again with that boundless curiosity.

"Auntie Weiss… could you give me a sibling with Papa?"

Weiss's cheeks flushed a delicate pink, her composure cracking just a fraction. She smoothed her skirt unnecessarily, buying a moment. "A sibling? Mia, that's… quite the request."

Mia nodded earnestly, ears perking. "Papa would be super warm! He'd never be mean, and he loves to play in the snow! Like snowball fights and building forts!"

Weiss's flush deepened, but a small, wistful smile tugged at her lips. "It… would be nice, wouldn't it? But my father… he'd make things difficult. He's still very much like that cold king in the castle."

Mia pouted, crossing her arms. "Why? That's not fair!"

Weiss sighed softly, weaving the last stems into Mia's crown and placing it on her head. "He wants me to marry a prince—someone with a fancy title and lots of gold. To keep the castle strong."

Mia's pout turned into a fierce scowl. "But Papa's a great knight! Knights are supposed to save princesses and marry them and live happily ever after!"

Weiss giggled then-a light, genuine sound that surprised even her-after adjusting her own flower crown.

"You're right, Mia. Knights do save princesses. And happily ever after sounds… wonderful."

The garden path crunched under footsteps just then, and Jaune appeared around the bend, hair tousled from the wind, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Hey, you two. Sorry I'm late. I got held up in Oobleck's lecture. Thanks so much for looking after her, Weiss."

Weiss stood gracefully, brushing a leaf from her skirt. "I'm glad to. She's wonderful company."

Mia bounced up, grabbing Jaune's hand. "Papa! Dinner now?"

Jaune chuckled, ruffling her hair. "What do you say, Weiss? Care to join us? My treat."

Weiss's eyes sparkled faintly. "I'd like that. Take us to dinner, then?"

Mia clapped. "Pancakes!"

Weiss snorted, a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. "We could just stay home for that, Mia."

The little girl thought for a second, then declared, "Beef spaghetti!"

Weiss nodded approvingly. "Beef spaghetti it is."

Jaune grinned. "Sounds good to me."

As they started walking, Mia darted between them, grabbing their free hands and tugging. Then, with a mischievous glint, she pushed Jaune's hand toward Weiss's arm. "Papa! Take Auntie Weiss's arm! You're a knight, and she's a princess—that's what knights do!"

Jaune's cheeks went pink, his step faltering. Weiss blushed too, but after a heartbeat, she held out her arm gracefully, meeting his eyes with a teasing smile.

"I agree."

Jaune cleared his throat, but his grin was warm as he took her arm, escorting her properly toward the bullhead docks.

"I would never argue with a princess."

Weiss arched an eyebrow, her voice light. "You'd better not."

Behind them, Mia skipped ahead, giggling triumphantly, the flower crowns bobbing like promises in the fading light.

- - -

PHEW! Managed these three today... Now I'm taking a break. Hope you liked it.