Chapter 57: Crackin' Eggs, a Signlent-Spoken Companion and Timeskips

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Welp... here's the finale. Not of the series, but of the CEFKOMS saga. And also, since we have a new mute character, they "speak" like this;

'Hello! This is a test sentence.'

OK? Just so you don't get confused. Also, underlining on the mute's "speech" is insinuation of a word.

9:59 P.M. 3½ weeks later, after Yang's forgotten about The Major, thanks to a little bit of Monika in her life. Yang's POV

I'm woken up by a soft knock at the door, and I get up from the couch (which is what I slept on after I got hammered last night {both by the alcohol and by Blake}) and open the door to see that girl with the parasol who fucked me up back on the train holding a white flag and waving it. Her smirk is gone, and her clothes are dirty. Her skin is also bruised, and it looks like she's been crying. Her parasol is 110℅ intact, however.

"You? Why should I help you? You work for Torchwick!" I exclaim, and she sighs silently before getting something from somewhere, and it's a sign.

'This is the only way I can communicate, but I was abused, as you can see. Not from Torchwick, because he's dead, but from some other person named "Jan Valentine". He only got as far as hurting me. That was the last straw for me. I'm turning to the good side now, and I need a place to stay. I wanna forgive and forget. Please?'

I scowl at her, but she grabs my hands, crying more.

I scowl at her, but she grabs my hands, crying more

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I sigh.

"Fine. But no funny business, or else it's back to the curb!" I exclaim, and she hugs me tightly.

I hug back, and footsteps sound behind me.

"Yang?" I hear Blake ask, and I freeze up.

I turn around. Blake is there, arms crossed and ears slanted.

"B-Blake, it's not what it looks like! You can clearly see she was hurt, and she said she's on our side since Cinder and Torchwick are dead now." I explain, and she nods.

"What's your name?" Blake asks.

She gets a sign.

'Neopolitan.'

"What's with the signs?" Blake asks.

Another one.

'I'm mute.'

"Oh. Sorry." Blake responds, and Neopolitan nods.

She also smirks with her eyes changing colors; her left eye changes from brown to pink, and the right eye does the same.

"Hold on, did your eyes just change?" I ask, and she does it repeatedly.

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