Chapter Text
Beacon University Bees
Chapter One: Perhaps By Chance
From the moment she arrived, she felt as if she had made the right decision. The choice had been a difficult one to make, yet after having only been there for but a mere ten minutes, Yang felt, no, she knew, that Beacon was the right place for her. Perhaps it was the long stretches of grass that lined the campus, or perhaps it was just how majestic its many towers and multiple wings appeared. Regardless of what it was, Beacon University somehow managed to evoke a feeling Yang had yearned for during the entirety of her journey there.
Home. She thought, gazing upon the lush greens that made up the college’s large quad. Yang readjusted the strap of her bag on her right shoulder. It slipped downward yet again a few moments later. But, as Yang knew since her days in kindergarten, it just “wasn’t cool” to wear a backpack with two straps. It wasn’t in grade school, nor was it in high school. Yang watched as a pair of nearly identical girls walked by, their eyes seemingly assessing her as they passed. They seemed satisfied with what they saw, and simply sauntered off, no doubt exchanging heavy amounts of gossip.
Yang grinned to herself out of mild amusement. The more things change, the more they stay the same. She reflected. The backpack rule was true then, and it was still true in college. Girls, Yang had found, never gave up the opportunity to judge another’s appearance.
Still, even the insistent annoyances such as that couldn’t ruin the day for Yang. She felt at peace, happy to finally be advancing into the next stage of her life. She gave the football tucked under her left arm a small squeeze. High school was over. This was the big leagues. And she couldn’t be more excited to explore the new horizons the aforementioned “big leagues” could offer her.
She placed her bag and football onto the grass gently, and raised her arms in a stretch, inhaling the crisp September air, while a light breeze blew her long blond locks about. She bent down to touch her toes, and struck a brief yoga pose for good measure, if only to break the dreaded “car cramps.”
She grinned, knowing that any who were to gaze upon the sight she was providing would be in for quite a treat. She knew she was good looking, which was why the constant judging of other girls never seemed to bother her much. They could criticize all they wanted, but Yang was far too confident too let it get to her.
Yang often found it difficult to keep her ego in check. She had plenty going for her, and she knew it. Beautiful. Talented. Well liked. All things that were, and always had been, synonymous with the name Yang Xiao Long.
Little did Yang know, that she had indeed given one certain individual quite the show with her excessive stretching display. Not that that individual had meant to see it, that is. Under the protection from the sun provided by a tree’s shade, sat a slight girl with long black hair, with a book propped open on her lap. Her attention, previously captivated by said book, was now completely directed toward the tall blond girl who stood several yards from where she sat.
The very same breeze that allowed the blonde’s hair to flow so magnificently also forcefully flipped several pages of the dark-haired girl’s book. She hardly noticed, however, as she had lost all interest in her novel anyway. She was never really one to stare, if not for fear of being caught doing so. But her current position, under the shroud and shade of a tree, was enough for her to justify it.
Blake Belladonna bit her lip, and crossed her legs, readjusting the book in her lap. She peered back down at her novel, trying to force her attention back onto it. She knew she shouldn’t stare. It could only end badly. Any attention she ever attracted certainly seemed to.
Blake sighed, keeping her head down, so as not to resume her gawking manner. She turned several pages of her book, trying to find her spot, previously robbed of her by the breeze. She considered looking up once more, to steal just one more glance at the girl, bit thought better of it. She imagined a terrible, though not entirely implausible scenario, where she’d be called out for her behavior, something that was sure to bring much unwelcome embarrassment to her.
She stared into the pages deeply, trying to concentrate, but it was no use. The words before her had been reduced to but a vague blur. Fuck it. She thought, lifting her head to catch another glimpse.
But the tall blond girl who had so enraptured her was gone. Blake bit her lip again, returning to her book, the words now legible to her. As her amber eyes darted across the yellowing pages, she swallowed nervously. Probably for the best anyways, she told herself. She knew it to be true too, as she had far too many memories, of far too many instances where similar behavior on her part had brought much negative attention on herself. She sighed again. It was probably best to stay under the radar for now.
She stood up, and brushed a few stray pine needles off her black jeans. Slipping her book into her small satchel, she walked off toward the dormitory in which she was to stay for the first few nights. She had things to unpack, and orientation was but a few hours away. She also had yet to meet anyone. She would hope her classmates and peers were nice, but she knew that was likely asking too much. Few ever seemed to like her much anyway.
Blake approached the concrete steps that led to the dorm, before glancing over her shoulder, perhaps hoping to see the other girl again. She did not. Shrugging, Blake dreaded entering the dorm, as she was certain she would have to face all sorts of bullshit once she did. Blake grasped the door handle, giving it a slow turn. She paused again, and muttered to herself, “You got this. They can like you. They will like you. You just got to be yoursel-“
She never got to finish, as her self-coaching was interrupted by the force of the door colliding with her face, sending her reeling, nearly falling over. She held a hand to her stinging nose, which had absorbed post of the sudden impact, and looked up, her vision somewhat blurred.
Blake saw a girl, no, three girls standing in the now open doorway. Two of them were nearly identical, and Blake briefly thought she was seeing double. Only, the two girls were wearing different clothes, one seemingly favoring the color white, while the other was adorned largely in red. Standing before them, almost like the leader of a pack of wolves, was another, shorter girl.
Blake rubbed her temple, feeling a small bump along her scalp.
“I’m…I’m so sorry.” she said, unable to meet the piercing, judging gazes of the three girls. “I should-I should have been watching w-where I was-“
The shorter, more distinct girl spoke up, cutting her off. “What’s with the bow?”
“Huh?” Blake was temporarily confused. She didn’t like the girl’s tone. It was accusing and entitled.
“What’s with the bow?” The girl repeated, running her long fingers through her white hair, was tied back in a long pony tail. “Why are you wearing it?” she continued, her voice filled with malice.
Blake didn’t have a good response. She never did. It was why she preferred to spend her time alone, reading or something of the like. She was never well prepared for social conflict.
Blake backed away warily, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I…I um…” She sputtered, before the other girl cut her of once again.
“You wear it for attention don’t you?” The white-haired girl spat. “Just like how you walk into fucking doors. Because you’re a fucking attention whore.”
Blake stepped back again, only to forget there were steps directly behind her. She stumbled, falling onto her ass. The concrete stung against her behind, and she cried out in surprise.
The three girls simply loomed over at her, the two identical ones shaking their heads in disapproval, while their alpha pack leader narrowed her eyebrows, as if assessing the girl sprawled on her back before her. It would seem her assessment was not a good one.
“You’re an attention whore.” She repeated, crossing her arms defiantly. “That’s why you dress like that too. You’re practically screaming to be noticed, clad in all that moody, ‘Look at me, I’m so edgy’ black. Well I’ve got news for you.” She paused, giving Blake a window to respond. Blake took it.
“Look, I don’t really know y-you, maybe we should just f-forget about-“
“Don’t interrupt me bitch.” The girl shot. “I said I have news for you.”
She leaned down to meet Blake’s eye level. The other two girls simply giggled.
“We certainly have noticed you. That’s what you wanted, right?”
Blake scooted away, the concrete tearing slightly into the rear of her black jeans. “N-no. T-that’s not what I w-wanted at all…”
One of the identical twins, the one in red, chuckled. “Ugh. Listen to that painful stutter. I think we have one of those on our hands here, Weiss.”
The short girl, presumably named Weiss, looked back at her lackey, grinning. “I think we do, Miltia,”
She paused, turning her gaze upon Blake again. “I think we do…”
At that, Weiss, Milita, and the other twin, walked off, but not before shooting Blake a glare. A glare that meant, “We’ll remember you, you little bitch.” It was a glare that brought fear to Blake. A glare that had summed up an experience that had more or less ruined her very first day at Beacon.
Blake got up, and hastily brushed the dirt off her jeans. There was a small tear along her left butt cheek, and Blake quickly cupped a hand to it in effort to conceal it. Glancing around, she warily entered the dorm, her head hung and her spirit crushed. This hasn’t been a very good day, she thought. She needed rest, and the dorm could offer that. That was all was hoping for at this point.
***
Yang Xiao Long lay in her bunk, eyes gazing at the ceiling above her, fixated on the cracks in the sheetrock no doubt brought about by decade’s worth of leaks and assorted water damage. She was utterly exhausted, as she had spent much of her day unpacking. Which she thought to be rather silly, as the dormitory in which she was to spend the night was only temporary. Her hope was to join the most sought after and coveted clique on campus. She closed her eyes.
The sorority had many names, but its awkward Latin and Greek name was often replaced by “The Sisterhood.” The name was dumb, but Yang knew those who were in it were anything but. They were cool. They were popular. They were athletic. They were pretty much Yang, and Yang felt she was pretty much made for their tastes and requirements.
Yang rolled over, in effort to reach the cold end of her pillow. She thought about the Sisterhood. She thought about her other goals. She wanted to make numerous teams, namely the football, track, and swim teams. She knew however, in order to be the most impressive she could be, she would need her rest. With that small but important knowledge in mind, Yang Xiao Long, drifted off, the small chatter of the communal dorm fading into but a distant hum.
***
At the very same time, Blake Belladonna reclined in her bed, trying to read. Only the many conversations that surrounded her prevented her from doing so. She sighed, giving up, and pulled her blanket over to her chin, resting her novel on the nightstand. She shivered, and curled into a ball, trying to preserve some warmth. She knew she should be wearing something warmer, but she enjoyed the comfort that came with her black yukata. Unfortunately, the garment did little to keep her legs warm, and she refused to wear socks to sleep, thereby sentencing her feet to the same chill.
Blake fussed with her hair bow, as it was beginning to slide downward. She needed her sleep. She wanted to start the next day fresh, and hoped she wouldn’t have any encounters as unpleasant as the one she had experienced earlier. As she closed her eyes, sleep overtaking her, her scroll gave a small buzz. A text message. Rolling over, Blake reached for it, the blue glow of the screen most irritating to her eyes.
She squinted, and read. It was from Mom, and it was brief.
“I wanted to wish my Blakey a good night on her first evening at college! I do hope you’ve made friends dear. And that you make many more. I’d feel better knowing you have others looking out for you :)”
Blake let out a sigh. The smiley face seemed so earnest, much like her mother. She would have to text back in the morning, and lie about how wonderful her first day had been. But that was for the next day. Blake closed her eyes, and fell fast asleep, silently wondering if she would, or even possibly could make friends.
***
The girl awoke in a sweat, and raised a hand to her eyes. Yup. Blake thought despondently. She was crying. Again. She had come to accept it as something she did while asleep, and it simply couldn’t be helped. Blake shook her head, not at anybody in particular, and slid her legs out of bed, the cold wooden floor biting into her soles. That sensation gave her small jerk, and she shot her eyes towards the clock. Her mouth fell in horror when she discovered it was half past nine. Orientation had started over half an hour ago, and it was not exactly a good first impression on the faculty, nor to her peers, to arrive late to the very first mandatory assembly.
She stumbled out of bed, quite literally, as she had tripped over her tangled top-sheets that had collected on the floor, no doubt kicked off by her during her troubled sleep. As she threw on clothes, particularly, the same she had worn the last day, she pondered on, Why the actual fuck did no one wake me? How did I sleep through what must have been a morning full of commotion among the other students? She tried pushing such thoughts out of her mind, and ran as fast as she could, down the flights of stairs, and across the quad that led to the complex that held the main study hall.
It was a handsome building, adorned with many exquisite stone carvings and colonial-era brickwork, with an assortment of vines growing up its sides, all perfectly manicured to perfection, lest they grow wild and give off an appearance of something haunted. The hall was graced by a tall, four-sided clock tower, which in itself was a masterpiece, what with its ornate wrought-iron frame and its great bronze hands always a symbol of punctuality.
Perhaps, Blake thought to herself, It’d to me much good to exercise some punctuality…
She flung open the doors, and found herself in a large entrance way, one with many different annexing hallways. Trouble was, she had absolutely no idea which one to take. She looked about for a directory, but found none. That was when she remembered the student map she had received upon entering the campus for the first time, and she silently screamed at herself for leaving it in the dorm.
She could hear the faint echoes of a strong voice bouncing around an auditorium, followed by much clapping every two or so minutes. Only, she could not figure out where those sounds emanated from.
That was when she saw her. The girl. The blonde who for some reason, had so enraptured her the day before. She was walking, no jogging down one of the halls, headed directly for Blake. Blake felt a moment of relief. Perhaps this girl was lost too?
Blake raised her hand as a weak gesture of “hello”, but immediately felt stupid for it. The blonde spoke before she could manage a word.
“Hey there! You wouldn’t happen to know where all that noise is coming from, would you?” Her voice was excited yet soft simultaneously, and it was now that Blake noticed the color of her eyes. Purple. A bright violet shade, a color Blake found most unusual, but incredibly pretty. Much like the rest of girl, as her long, blond hair, well built, well-endowed physique, and a manner of other things, made Blake feel inadequate in her own appearance. Then the blonde cleared her throat.
“Um…hello? I was wondering if you knew where the orientation was-“ the blonde started again, only for Blake to respond before she could finish.
“Oh! Y-yeah, the orientation!” Blake said hurriedly, perhaps to make up for the time she had spent gawking at the blonde, and leaving her question awkwardly hanging. “I…I d-don’t really know myself…I um…I overslept…”
The blonde shot her a smile. “You too, huh? Well aren’t we a couple of losers for waking up late on the very first day?”
Blake swallowed. “I…I guess so…” She laughed, then immediately became aware of how odd her own laugh sounded.
The blonde just kept her grin. Then she nodded to the corridor on their left. “I’m pretty sure the hall is down this one.” She said.
“How...how do you know?”
“Because I just spent the last ten minutes going up and down the other five.” The blonde answered, smirking.
The two walked down the deserted hallway for a few minutes, as the voice and clapping grew steadily louder. They approached a set of large double doors, and prepared for the hundreds of eyes that would fall upon them once they entered.
Blake glanced at the other girl nervously, who simply said, “Okay then. Here we are… I guess I’ll uh, see you around.”
Blake said nothing. She reached for the door handle, but so did the other girl, and the two smacked knuckles.
“Sorry!” Blake said hastily, “I’m so-“
“Its fine.” The blonde said. “let’s just get our poor asses in there.”
Upon opening the doors, the room fell silent, and sure enough, all sets of eyes fell on them, from the students perched in the raised seating, to the stern-faced woman standing on the podium. There was a brief moment of awkwardness, before the speaker cleared her throat.
“Tsk…” she sounded, clearing her throat again. “It would seem…we have a pair of some irresponsible students.” She placed painful emphasis on the adjective. The Blonde, her name unbeknownst to Blake, stared right back, grinning nervously, while Blake hung her head, her face a shade of red deeper than cherries. Blake wanted to curl up and die, as all the eyes that were trained on her were practically torture. Although she couldn’t see her, she could almost hear that horribly mean girl she’d met the day before say, “See? Attention whore…”
Blake fought an urge to kick herself. Here she was, proving that bitch right. It was a painful feeling.
The woman on the podium spoke again. “I’d like to speak to you two, following the orientation, to catch you up on all that you’ve missed.” She paused, before adding, “You can thank me then.” The last bit earned many giggles from amongst the students.
The two girl sheepishly slipped into the nearest empty seats, and kept quiet for the remainder of the orientation.
***
“Late? For the first day?” The woman said dissaprovingly, adjusting her glasses. She wore a long button down blouse, a long skirt, and brandished one of those “pointer-sticks” that reminded Yang an awful lot like the ones “teachers” would use in pornos. She stifled a laugh, knowing that would be a poor move in her current situation. The woman continued. “You two are aware that such a demonstration doesn’t exactly…paint a fine portrait for your college career?”
Blake kept her head hung shamefully, as she had the whole lecture. “I’m…I’m so sorry Ma’am. It w-won’t happen again…” She muttered timidly.
The woman, known as Professor Glynda Goodwitch, narrowed her eyes. “It better not, Miss…” She looked at both girls, expecting them to fill in the blanks. They did.
“Xiao Long!” Yang said hurriedly.
“Belladonna…” Blake whimpered, her voice cracking, as it did often under stress.
Goodwitch frowned. “I’ll hold you both to that. I’ll remember you both. Which here ata school as large as Beacon, is either something very good…”
“Or very bad.” Yang finished for her.
Goodwitch nearly smiled. But that seemed to be beyond her, and she simply nodded. “Correct,” she said. “Now, there is one small matter we must attend to. As you both should know, Beacon University employs a ‘study partner system.’ Only, partners were assigned at the very beginning of the lecture. It’s a typically randomized procedure, yet with you two having missed that particular process…” Goodwitch paused, staring the two girls down. “I suppose you two late-birds are to be assigned as such. I wish you luck this semester, girls. Now, do try and…get to know one another. Unless, that is what you two were doing instead of attending orientation.” She turned to walk off, before adding, “Like you two were supposed to.”
She left the hall, leaving Blake and Yang standing there on the podium, while the remainder of the students shuffled their way out of the room, one or two throwing glances at the two girls who stood on stage, the very same two who had interrupted with their tardiness.
Yang extended a hand, and raised her eyebrows earnestly, trying to evoke a sense of harmlessness. She barely knew the dark-haired girl before her, but got a sense that she wasn’t one who trusted others too easily. “I’m Yang.” She said, still offering her hand for the other girl to properly shake. “Yang Xiao Long. But you already heard that last part.” She giggled slightly, and the smaller girl took her hand, and gave a reluctant “dead-fish” shake.
“Blake. Blake B-Bella-“ She stuttered.
“Belladonna.” Yang finished for her. “I pay attention too.” She grinned, releasing Blake’s hand. “So…What exactly are you here for?”
“Oh…Um, I’m here to study…to study literature.”
Still smiling sweetly, Yang said, “Neat! You write?”
“Well…yeah. None of its very good though. That’s why…that’s why I’m here I suppose…”
“I’m sure it’s great stuff.” Yang assured her. “Now, aren’t you gonna ask me about myself?”
Blake went red. “I…I was going to. I’m s-sorry-“
“I was kidding.” Yang said, letting out a small laugh. “But yeah, I’m here for the sports and shit.”
“That’s… that’s very nice.”
“Do you play?”
“Play what?”
“Sports. Any kind.”
Blake swallowed. This was the part where she knew she would lose Yang’s interest. Any interest she may have had, that is. “Not really. I…I like to read though…”
Yang looked briefly disappointed, but quickly gave Blake a reassuring smile. “Aw. That’s okay. But we are supposed to be study partners, so maybe…” She paused, playing with her hair. “I can read some of your stuff, and you, you can humor me a bit with some of them “athletics.” Volleyball perhaps? Track?”
Blake smiled weakly. “Maybe. I do want…to be a good study partner.”
“And I’m sure we’ll work great together.” Yang said confidently, though privately, she had her doubts. She stared down at her sneakers, and Blake at her boots. A small silence hung, before Yang spoke again.
“Well, I guess I should get going. But it was nice meeting you! I’ll see you later I guess.” Yang turned to leave, before remembering, “Oh! We should probably exchange numbers no?”
Blake bit her lip nervously. “Y-yeah. Lets.”
Once that was done, Yang walked off again, and Blake watched her as she pushed open the double doors they had entered together, and blinked as they swung closed behind her.
“It was nice meeting you too, Yang…” Blake said to herself, as she stood there, alone on the auditorium stage, bathed in the warm orange glow of a spotlight. She massaged her neck, and thought to herself, I got her number. Huh…
At that, she walked off the stage herself, and jammed her earbuds on, the walk back to the dorm to be accompanied by the soft melodies of whatever she had on shuffle.