Young Writers Society

A/N: This is a side-story/prequel of sorts to a RWBY Storybook I'm participating in called Shattered Moons.  Jhinx, the admin, suggested some brilliant ideas for my character's history, so I decided to adapt them into a short story.  Please enjoy, and if you like RWBY be sure to check out the SB when the first chapter comes out!

The Foster family's log house was filled with the tangy aromas of spices and herbs Midori had gathered the night before. Evidently, her mom had helped herself to them in the morning while Midori slept in. Somewhere outside, she heard the rhythmic hacking sound of an axe on wood. Also evidently, her father was already outside, hard at work.

Midori found her mother at the kitchen table, which her father had built by hand, rolling out a thick sheet of puffy, yeasty dough. A large pot of fragrant curry simmered happily on the stove.

"What time is it?" Midori asked, greeting her mother's silence with a yawn.

"You missed the sunrise prayers again," said Mrs. Foster reproachfully.

The best way out of this, Midori reasoned, was to just apologize and promise it wouldn't happen again, even though they both knew it would. She knew better than to mess with her mom when she's holding a rolling pin.

Besides, Midori didn't think the sun deserved more attention than the rest of nature - and if the sun works so hard to grow the flowers and trees, why cut them down as sacrifices? Midori played that card every time - and it was true she didn't believe in the ritual - but at this point, even her parents could see through that excuse. The real problem was being among the other people of their village.

"Sweetheart, you have a beautiful gift," Mrs. Foster told her time and again. "If the others can't recognize that, shame on them."

But sometimes, Midori wondered if her parents completely got it either. They talked about her sometimes, after they thought she was asleep, and some of the things her father said were far from accepting. Her parents had tried to hide the fact that she'd been adopted for the longest time - but it soon became obvious that she hadn't inherited those tufts of feathers behind her ears from the Patch Island Fosters.

"Why don't you make yourself useful and fill these curry buns for the farmer's market?" her mother asked, drawing Midori out of her morose train of thought.

"Oh, all right." In truth, Midori wasn't particularly reluctant. Her mom made the best curry buns in the village. ...And when Mrs. Foster wasn't looking, Midori could sneak a few spicy, salty samples - for quality assurance purposes, of course.

Plus, if any of the buns came out the slightest bit imperfect (e.g. too much dough, too little curry or - more likely - too little dough and too much curry), Midori got to eat them. She overfilled a couple of the buns on purpose and hungrily eyed the spiced root vegetables peeping out from the clumsily-folded seams.

The peaceful atmosphere was suddenly interrupted when Mr. Foster burst through the back door, gripping his axe. "Don't let them in, Em!" he yelled breathlessly.

"Don't let who in, Henry?" his wife retorted skeptically. "What's going on?"

Henry Foster pointed at Midori. "She's done it now, Em ... they're looking for her!"

"But who are they?!" Midori demanded. "I didn't do--"

"No time to explain, just stay back," her father replied, cutting her off mid-sentence.

There was a knock on the back door. "Foster!" a gravelly voice shouted from the other side. "Would you just let me in already?"

Mrs. Foster peered through the window before her husband pulled her away. "Why Henry, it's only...." Amid Mr. Foster's protests, she ambled over to the front door and opened it.

It was the guy with the cape Midori had seen last night: Ruby and Yang's uncle, Qrow Branwen. There was another guy standing there as well, without a cape. He was older, bespectacled, and wore a thick green scarf around his neck despite the warm weather. She'd never seen him before.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Foster," the unknown visitor began.

"Whatever it is you think she did, she didn't do it!" Mrs. Foster exclaimed, waving her flour-coated rolling pin in front of the bespectacled man's face, like an old-timey knight during a jousting match. Faltering slightly, she glanced back to the table, where Midori still sat, assembling curry buns and trying hard to look invisible. "...Did you?"

Thanks for believing in me, Mom, Midori thought dryly. "Of course I did," she drawled sarcastically. "The whole village knows I eat little kids for breakfast."

That elicited a throaty chuckle from Branwen, but her father didn't seem to appreciate the remark.

"Midori, scram," he ordered. Midori left the kitchen, but she hung around the doorway, just out of view, to keep listening in on the conversation.

She heard the chairs around the kitchen table rub against the stone floor as the two visitors took their seats.

"I have the displeasure of knowing Qrow, but who the heck are you?" Midori's father demanded of the bespectacled man. Mr. Foster still stood by the back door, arms crossed and eyes glaring little axes at the "intruders."

"I am Professor Ozpin, the headmaster of Beacon Academy," Spectacles said in a quiet, calm voice. "Mr. and Mrs. Foster, you may not be aware of your daughter's immense service to this village."

"Service?" Mr. Foster spat. "More like terrorizing this whole village with her wild antics."

"Henry," his wife warned him softly.

"Take a seat, Henry, you'll want to hear this," Qrow said smugly, causing Mr. Foster to bristle in annoyance at being told off by an outsider in his own house. He began to tell them what had happened the night before.

It was late in the day and a light drizzle had started to fall. Midori was outside, trying to pick some of her mother's vegetables and herbs from the garden before the ground got too soggy. Two blackbirds kept circling over her head, cawing and putting up quite a ruckus. They were probably mad that she was bringing all the good food inside.

"Midori!" The sound of Taiyang Xiao Long's panicked voice echoed off the garden wall, calling her name. She looked up to see the yellow-haired man running towards her, his brow creased with worry.

Midori dropped the basket she was filling with vegetables as she ran to meet him. Looks like the birds would get what they came for after all. "What's wrong, sir?"

"Have you seen my daughters?" he asked worriedly, pausing only to catch his breath. "When I came home from teaching, Yang and Ruby were gone. I can't find them anywhere."

The Foster's next-door neighbors, Taiyang Xiao Long and Summer Rose, were one of the few couples that actually let Midori near their children. When Summer was away on missions and Taiyang was teaching for most of the day, Midori would watch their two little girls, Yang and Ruby. Midori was grateful that Taiyaing didn't seem to hold it against her that she'd quit Signal, where he taught, two years before.

The girls loved it when she'd chase them around the house in a Grimm mask, running slower than usual as they scrambled away on their little legs, screaming in mock-fear. In the end, they'd always collapse in a pile, laughing, and then embark on a covert mission to the pantry to see if Summer had left them any of her famous cookies.

But that was a long time ago. Yang was older now, and Ruby hadn't really been herself since Summer Rose died.

Midori hadn't seen them today, and she let her neighbor know. "But I'll help you look for them. They're small - even if they had a head start, they can't have gone far."

Taiyang thanked her and said he'd check the house once more, to be sure this wasn't some elaborate prank of Ruby's. Midori knew better than to wait for him, though. She'd seen more Grimm circling the village's wooded perimeter than usual. For all she knew, Ruby could just be hiding in the basement with Yang or something, but she wouldn't take that chance.

After she found Dreamcatcher in her room under a pile of (presumably) clean laundry, she grabbed her mother's dark green cape and headed out the door. She'd made the bow and arrows back at Signal, before she'd quit - if she'd stuck around, she could've upgraded her weapon, but this one continued to serve her well.

The rainfall had gone from a drizzle to an utter deluge by the time she found her gear, but in the mud behind the Xiao Long-Rose house, she thought she saw the tracks of ... Yang's wagon wheels?

The general direction the girls must've taken was pretty clear - they were headed straight for the outskirts, where they were sure to encounter the real Grimm. Not wasting a second, not even to tell Mr. Xiao Long her hunch, Midori ran.

The mud squelched beneath Midori's feet as she tried to follow the quickly fading tracks of Yang's wagon. Her small footprints followed alongside it - she must have taken Ruby wherever she was going ... unless it was Ruby's idea, and the little redheaded princess had made Yang take her.

Lightning flashed, and Midori darted out from beneath the shelter of the trees. The last place you want to be in a thunder storm is underneath a tree. When she looked up, one of the birds was still circling the sky, somehow managing to stay aloft in the rain. Was it following her ... or leading her to something?

Off in the distance, Midori could make out the shape of an abandoned hut. Two small figures and a wagon were collapsed in front of it.

"Yang! Ruby!" she called out.

Ruby was fast asleep in the wagon, but Yang's eyes opened slowly, sleepily at the sound of Midori's voice. "Mom?...." she whispered, exhausted. Her bright yellow hair was caked with mud, and both her knees were skinned. She tried to lift one arm, but it fell weakly at her side.

"Come on, I'm taking you back," Midori declared. "You girls are gonna be in so much trouble when we get home...."

"Mom," Yang repeated again, this time pointing shakily at something over her would-be rescuer's shoulder.

Midori became aware of the foul stench of rotting flesh and dirty fur tainting the sweet, rainy air. The menacing growl of the Grimm behind her was all she needed to hear. She whirled around in an instant, Dreamcatcher out, an arrow nocked, wavering between three of the red-eyed targets surrounding them.

A large, masked beowulf growled as it approached, but it quickly changed to a howl of pain as Midori shot an arrow into its eye. Seeing its peer downed, the next one charged, even more vicious than the last one.

Midori made quick work of the remaining beasts. Whichever ones she couldn't kill with arrows, she'd shoot down with the blaster on her bow. Yang and Ruby - now awake from the commotion - watched silently as the soulless, stinking carcasses piled up one by one on the muddy ground.

Midori stowed Dreamcatcher and wiped her hands on the hem of her tunic. "Now, I'm taking you home," she said to the girls.

"Midori, I'm cold!" Ruby whimpered, sneezing.

Midori wrapped the little girl in Mrs. Foster's green cloak, and started to help Yang aboard, when she heard footsteps - human - approaching. It had to be one of the villagers - and if she was seen with the missing girls, she knew exactly what conclusion they'd come to.

"Wait here."

Ignoring Yang's protests, Midori slipped behind a patch of bushes, wishing she'd kept the green cloak. Her brightly colored tunic and leggings could probably be seen from a mile away.

The footsteps got louder and a single man stepped into the clearing. His dark hair was matted to his face in the rain, and his dark red cape picked up mud where it dragged across the ground.

It was Qrow Branwen, the girls' eccentric uncle ... and Midori's least-favorite teacher at Signal. He didn't have the patience for questions he deemed "stupid" (namely, any question which took more than two sentences to fully explain). Neither did he approve of her choice of weaponry. He said the bow she'd brought with her - Dreamcatcher - was far too primitive for modern warfare. And they'd argued endlessly about installing Dreamcatcher's blaster piece. Suffice to say, they hadn't hit it off.

Oblivious to her presence, Branwen looked around, observing the carnage and (to Midori's surprise) nodding approvingly when he saw the arrows. Midori wished she'd thought to take them back before running away. She contemplated stepping out, showing herself and proving him wrong about her "primitive weapon." It served her well, especially now. The bushes rustled as she peered around - immediately, he turned and looked in her direction!

Midori froze. Their eyes seemed to meet for a few seconds. She couldn't be sure if he actually saw her, but before she had the chance to speak, to explain herself, Branwen turned, gently placed his nieces in the wagon, and took off.

He did see me! Midori thought excitedly as her former teacher recounted the scene to her parents from his perspective.

The other man - Professor Ozpin, he said his name was - spoke. "Mr. and Mrs. Foster, your daughter showed great potential as a Huntress that night. We believe that with the right education, she might--"

"Listen, Ozwald, whoever you are," Henry Foster interrupted, "my daughter's enough of a problem as she is. She's a Faunus. Our village doesn't accept her. She'll never find a man to care for her if she doesn't straighten her life out. Sending her off to become one of your Huntspeople will only worsen her standing here."

"This is her future we're discussing, Mr. Foster," Ozpin tried again. "If--"

"That's right we are, and I won't have you and your radical school screw it up for her!" Mr. Foster yelled. "I'm putting my foot down - we don't want your people in her life."

"All right, Henry," Qrow growled. "We'll leave the screwing-up of her life to you. C'mon, Oz. We're done here."

"The front door's this way," Mrs. Foster stammered as they stood to leave. "Let me show you out."

"Stay here, Emily," Mr. Foster snapped.

In the hall, where Midori was listening, Ozpin and Branwen paused midstep.

"You heard all of that?" Qrow asked dryly.

Midori nodded wordlessly.

"Your parents have the best of intentions, it seems," Ozpin said quietly, "but ultimately, this is your decision." He handed her a sealed envelope. "If you do feel differently, remember you're always welcome at Beacon Academy."

"Beacon?" Midori repeated, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "You mean ... I don't have to finish at Signal first?" She glanced guiltily at her former teacher, who just shrugged. "No hard feelings, kid."

"As I have noted, the choice is yours, Midori," Ozpin said gently. "Come along, Qrow."

And they left.

Midori returned to the kitchen, hoping her father had gone back outside, but both of her parents were still there. Apparently, they'd been listening to her conversation too.

"What's this he gave you?" her father demanded, snatching the envelope from her hands and ripping off the seal before she could answer.

He read the first few lines slowly, muttering the words to himself under his breath as he sounded them out. From what Midori could tell, it was a letter of recommendation from Professor Ozpin himself.

"You don't need this," he declared, tearing the letter in half.

"Henry, no!" Em cried out, but Mr. Foster only tore the letter into quarters, then eighths, then even smaller pieces. It was a systematic process, like the way he chopped wood.

"Go to your room," he ordered Midori, jerking his chin in her direction. "And don't speak about this hunting garbage again."

One month later, Emily Foster helped her adopted daughter pack her belongings into a small wicker basket. It was simple and nondescript, among the many baskets and parcels of goods they were bringing to sell in the market. Henry would never know.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Midori asked as she followed her mother out the front door for the last time.

"Midori, your father ... he may not understand you, but he cares," Em said, biting her lip nervously. "He'll come to his senses one day and we'll both be proud when you graduate as a Huntress."

"I hope so," Midori replied quietly. She gave her mother a small hug. "Thank you ... for everything."

They parted ways at the docks. Midori would take a ferry into Vale, and find her way from there to Beacon.

"Before you go," Mrs. Foster called, "I have one more thing for you." She took a small, drawstring bag from her apron pocket and pressed it into Midori's hand.

"What is it?" Midori asked.

"Open it and find out," her mother replied playfully. "I think it was from your mother. Your ... birth mother."

Midori peeked inside the bag and found a small necklace. It was made of a simple leather lanyard, decorated with small, multicolored colored beads and a tiny, glass pendant encasing a downy purple feather. It was both rustic and elegant. "It's beautiful!"

"You were wearing it the night we found you on our doorstep," Em explained. "And it was much too gaudy for a little girl to wear. Your mother, whoever she was, must have wanted you to have it ... when you were old enough. I think she would be so proud of the brave young woman you've become."

Midori smiled. It wasn't every day that someone praised her, especially someone from home, but she knew this was sincere.

"Goodbye, Mom," she whispered, giving her mother - her adoptive mother - a little wave as she headed up the gangplank.

Her whole life, she'd felt rejected, unaccepted, by the people around her. Today, she was heading to a place where things just might be different. The headmaster believed in her. Heck, even grumpy old Qrow Branwen seemed to. That on its own gave her a lot of hope.