Chapter Text
It was difficult not to tear himself apart over every mistake he made at Haven. (Jab, back, palm strike.) Letting Weiss take on the Branwen bandit by herself. (Punch.) Leaving Ruby vulnerable. (Punch.) Every hit he'd let drain his aura, leaving him deadweight for Qrow and the kids to protect. (Cane whirl, strike.) Whatever he'd done to make Ozpin leave, gone before he could say whatever he'd promised they'd talk about after Haven. (Overhead smash. A minute or so to calm his breath.) He was a huntsman, damn it! He knew better than that!
But he knew better than to linger on it, too. That was why, after waiting for a few days for Ozpin to reappear and snap him out of his funk, he had manned up and taken his feelings to the roof.
It was a technique his therapist had suggested. After working out his frustrations – tightening his forms, pushing himself to be better next time – he set Long Memory aside and dropped into a flowing tai chi meditation.
There had been a lot of mistakes, yeah. But it wasn't all bad. No one was permanently injured, maimed, or killed. Qrow and Weiss would have a new scar each, but they were hunters. That was nothing to write home about. They'd fought off Salem’s flunkies and successfully protected the Lamp, so their primary objective was complete. His daughters’ team was back together. That was more bittersweet, but… he was glad for them. Hopefully RWBY (RWBYJNR?) would have better luck than STRQ.
And – oh yeah. There were boots on the roof.
“I wondered if you'd show up,” he said.
Emerald leaned against the wall, small and weaponless. He knew better than to believe it, but the attempt had to mean something. “Yeah, well. I had a question.”
There was a note of hatred running through her voice, pinching her eyes, red eyes, tight at the corners. He couldn't tell if it was directed at him or herself.
“Can't promise I'll have an answer for you, but you can go ahead and ask.”
“At Haven,” she said, looking away from him. At the cane. “Before we… left. You tried to help me.”
He sank into the next pose. “That's not much of a question. But yeah, I did.”
“Why?” Her fists trembled. “I'm not one of your prissy pipsqueaks. I'm your enemy. I should mean nothing to you.”
He snorted. “My enemies don't mean nothing to me.” When he faced down a bounty, it was with determination and respect. When he fought Salem’s agents, he felt fear, and sadness, and fury. Watching Emerald now, he remembered a young Qrow in the nonchalant way she set her back against the wall, a new-met Raven in the set of her shoulders, and he grieved for all three of them – bandits who thought it was them against the world, all too young to be this afraid. “Anyway, you're a kid. I'm a huntsman. If you're in trouble, it's my job to help.”
She scoffed. “Yeah, right. Huntsmen don't care about helping kids. They just kill Grimm for whatever city pays best.” The derision under the words was more tired than anything. “Cinder says I can't depend on anyone like that. That it's no one’s job to take care of you but yourself.”
His heart panged with an unwanted glimpse of empathy. Cinder had killed him– killed Ozpin. But she was human too, it seemed. “I'm sorry for the both of you, then.”
“You're not even gonna try to tell me I'm wrong?”
“Would you believe me?”
Emerald shrugged. “Probably not.”
He took a breath, then let it out. “Okay.” He'd reached the last step in the meditation. Bowing in no particular direction, Tai silently thanked his teachers and returned to a neutral position. “I'll be here, if you change your mind.”
He hadn't expected to see her leave. The empty rooftop came as no surprise. But there was a black bird on the balcony, watching him with red eyes, and it cawed, just once, before it flew away.
Tai watched it disappear into the mountains. Then he picked up his cane and went inside.