Project: RWBY

Ch 42: A Hundred Eighty Degrees

"The news again, seriously? Surely there's something more interesting on television." I remark boredly, sitting on one side of a sofa with my cheek resting on my palm. "Besides, every channel still talks about the same old thing. The progress of taking back Vale, or lack thereof, the communication tower still trying to be repaired, or the air traffic ban. There's never anything new."

"You don't know that," The girl on the opposite end of the sofa retorts without taking her equally bored eyes off the screen.

"That's what you think," I smirk in challenge and give a glance at the blondie.

Unfortunately, neither my smirk nor words issue a response, let alone a mere glance back.

Before, my smirk alone would cause Yang to match it before we began a battle of wits and puns on whatever topic we were on. But nowadays I'm always met with a stone wall that reminds me of a certain pair of cat ears.

Yang's changed too, big surprise.

And she'll change again someday, this time for the better.

Her eyes suddenly shine with interest and I take it as a sign to pay attention to the T.V.

"Multiple rumors continue to circulate as to who was behind the attack at the Vital festival tournament. While no one knows for sure, officials have confirmed that high ranking White Fang member Adam Taurus was present for the attack. Any and all attempts at bringing him into custody have been met with lethal force."

As I expected, the news reporter reports anything but some new news.

BORING.

However, for Yang, the news manages to get her onto the edge of her seat, or rather, the name and person on screen. I take a glance at her hand that's now squeezing the life out of the remote.

"Seeing you all riled up every time you see that guy is starting to make me feel jealous Yang," I chuckle.

She doesn't react to my joke and just shuts off the T.V, placing the remote on the table and blankly staring at it with a frown.

My own lips twist into a frown as well thinking I said something wrong, "Sorry, I didn't mean-

The front door being kicked open followed by the shout steals our attention.

"I'm back!"

Yang's dad walks carrying bags and boxes that stack taller than himself.

"Hey, dad." Yang greets him lazily.

"Guess what came into the mail today?" He says as he walks into their kitchen to drop off the majority of his cargo.

"My guess is an arm," I shrug.

Yang gives me an odd look then quickly begins to ignore my existence when her dad comes back around with a large white box in tow.

He places it on the table in front of her, "Well?" He asks excitedly.

"It's for me?" Yang asks with a confused look.

"Unless he can see me, it's probably for you," I remark cheekily.

She ignores me and proceeds to gingerly open up the present.

I let out an impressed whistle as I looked over Yang's shoulder. Inside the box sits a sleek, prosthetic arm that's perfectly shaped like her old arm that sits either in the belly of a Grimm or underneath a pile of burning rubble.

"Brand new, state of the art, Atlas tech," Her dad proclaims, "I thought I was going to have to pull a few strings, jostle a few shoulders, call in a favor or two to get this thing. But guess what? General Ironwood already had it prepared."