RWBY: Moon Reflection

Blake, who had been silent so far, took a deep breath and asked the burning question. "So... what happened after you died?"

The room fell silent again, all eyes on Crimson. His expression grew contemplative, and for a moment, he seemed lost in thought. Finally, he began to speak.

"After I died," he said slowly, "I ended up in a place that could only be described as... limbo. It wasn't the afterlife, but it wasn't the world of the living either. It was the domain of the God of Harmony."

"The domain of the God of Harmony?" Weiss asked, her brow furrowing.

Crimson nodded. "Yes. He forced me to see how wrong I was. Then... he began what I can only describe as a therapy session. It lasted for years. I learned, I grew, and I found peace. In the end, he helped me resolve the issue of my impending death and even the demon is no more. The mark on my face is permanent now, a reminder of everything I went through. I'm grateful for everything the god has done for me."

His words left the room in silence once more, each member of the group processing the enormity of what he had endured.

"You spent years?" Weiss asked, confused.

"Yes, I actually was surprised when I came back. Only seven days have passed since my death" Crimson replied.

Finally, Pyrrha spoke, her voice soft but firm. "Then we're glad you're here, Crimson. Whatever you went through... you came back. That's what matters."

Crimson looked at her, then at the others, and nodded. "Thank you," he said simply.

Nora's voice broke the lingering silence, her characteristic energy muted but still present. "So, uh... what exactly did you do in therapy for years?" she asked, her head tilting curiously.

Crimson leaned back slightly in his chair, his crimson eyes scanning the group before he answered. "Mostly, I told stories, practiced playing different musical instruments, and engaged in sword training."

The room filled with puzzled glances. Ruby blinked in confusion, Yang raised an eyebrow, and even Blake furrowed her brow. Therapy didn't usually involve instruments and swordplay.

"That's therapy?" Nora asked, speaking the question on everyone's mind.

Crimson chuckled softly. "For me, it was. The best I could ever ask for"

The group exchanged uncertain looks, their expressions hovering between understanding and disbelief.

Ren, ever composed, decided to shift the conversation. "So... why are you heading to Atlas right after coming back?" he asked, his tone cautious but curious.

Crimson glanced at him and shrugged lightly. "I accepted General Ironwood's offer to join Atlas. I figured it would give me a stable environment to start over and, hopefully, a way to reconnect with my sisters. I didn't expect to find all of you here so soon."

Qrow narrowed his eyes slightly. "Atlas? Why Atlas, of all places?"

"It fits my skill set," Crimson replied calmly. "They value strength, discipline, and precision. Plus, it's a steady job, and I want stability now." He paused, his gaze softening. "I want to work, marry, and start a family."

That simple statement froze the group. Even the air seemed to still in the room.

"Start a family?" Yang finally blurted out, her voice laced with disbelief.

"You're too young to be thinking about that!" Qrow interjected, his tone a mix of concern and surprise.

Crimson chuckled at the response, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed smile. "Not really, I was born a little over 17 years ago, yes. But my mind is much older than my body. By all accounts, I should be considered one of the oldest creatures in all of Remnant."

His words left them speechless again. He did say he was dead for years but they didn't know what years meant. Ruby broke the silence this time, her voice hesitant. "How... how old are you, exactly?"

Crimson's eyes twinkled with amusement as he answered casually, "A little over five centuries."

The room plunged into another stunned silence.

"Five centuries?" Yang repeated, her tone incredulous.

Crimson laughed, shrugging lightly. "a decade or two past that"

Ruby opened her mouth to say something but stopped, clearly unsure of how to process the revelation. Crimson, noticing the growing tension, shifted his focus to Pyrrha's mother, who had been sitting quietly at the edge of the room.

"Excuse me," he said politely, "would it be alright if I used your kitchen? It's been ages since I've cooked, and I miss it."

Pyrrha's mother blinked, caught off guard by the sudden request. After a moment, she nodded dumbly and gestured for him to follow her. "O-of course. This way."

Crimson stood and followed her, leaving the group behind in a daze.

Blake was the first to break the silence that followed his departure. "It seems like he was gone for far longer than we thought," she said quietly.

The others exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to respond.

Nora, ever direct, leaned forward with a gleam of curiosity in her eyes. "So no one is going to ask... how strong is he now?"

The group turned to look at her, and she raised her hands and shrugged. "I mean, he was already absurdly strong before, and that was without dedicating his entire life to training. Now he's had centuries. He's gotta be insanely powerful, right?"

Weiss frowned, her sharp gaze drifting to where Crimson had left. "He does look taller... and more muscular," she admitted.

Qrow let out a low whistle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Honestly, I'm scared to even think about it," he muttered.

The others nodded in silent agreement, their thoughts echoing his sentiment.

Crimson's voice called out from the kitchen, interrupting their spiraling thoughts. "Any preference for dinner?"

The warmth in his tone seemed to ease some of the tension in the room, but the unspoken questions lingered.

______________________________

The dinner was a lively affair, filled with laughter and chatter. Crimson had prepared a feast that left everyone full and content. The dessert, however, was the highlight—a delicate and flavorful treat that showcased his skill in the kitchen.

After finishing her portion, Pyrrha's mother set her fork down and looked at Crimson with admiration. "That was incredible. You're a very talented cook, Crimson. I have to ask—where did you learn to make this dessert?"

Crimson smiled warmly, appreciating the compliment. "Thank you. It was my mother's recipe. I learned by watching her when I was younger. This was her favorite dessert."

Her eyes lit up with interest. "Would you mind sharing the recipe? I'd love to try making it myself."

"Of course," Crimson said, nodding. He began explaining the ingredients and the process, detailing every step with care. The two quickly became engrossed in a conversation about cooking, exchanging ideas and tips.

At the other end of the table, Blake, who had been quietly observing the interaction, leaned closer to the group and whispered, "Do you think, because of Crimson's... mental age, he might be into older women now?"

The group collectively turned to look at her, surprised by the question. Then, almost instinctively, their gazes shifted to Crimson and Pyrrha's mother. This time, their expressions carried a mix of amusement and curiosity.

Nora's face lit up with a mischievous grin. "You know," she said, nudging Pyrrha playfully, "if that's the case, Crimson might end up being your stepdad."

Pyrrha's cheeks flushed, and she shot Nora an incredulous look. "That's not funny, Nora," she said, her voice tinged with embarrassment.

Nora, however, seemed thoroughly amused by the idea, and even Yang snickered at the thought. Meanwhile, Qrow, seated at the corner of the table, tried—and failed—to suppress a smirk, while Cheiron and Raven exchanged unimpressed glances.

Cheiron, clearly uninterested in entertaining the group's wild theories, cleared his throat to change the subject. "Alright, enough of that nonsense," he said. "Let's talk about something else. Who here thinks they can guess why I retired?"

The group looked at him curiously, intrigued by the sudden shift in conversation. "It has to be an injury, right?" Yang suggested, though her tone made it clear she wasn't being entirely serious.

Cheiron shook his head. "No, no. I'm not asking for vague guesses like that. I want an accurate reason. Think carefully."

The group began throwing out ideas, each one wilder than the last.

"Maybe you got tired of fighting and wanted to enjoy the quiet life," Ruby suggested.

"Or maybe you had a dramatic falling out with someone and decided to step away," Weiss added.

As the guesses continued, Crimson returned from the kitchen, drying his hands with a towel. "What's going on?" he asked, noting the lively discussion.

Ruby quickly filled him in. "Old man Cheiron asked us to guess why he retired. Do you have a guess?"

Crimson tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Hmm... let's see. The old man has an injury in his lower back that causes pain when he runs. His right shoulder is also damaged, and he probably can't exert more than half his strength with it."

The room fell silent as everyone stared at him. Cheiron blinked, clearly taken aback. "Pyrrha," he said slowly, "did you tell him that?"

Pyrrha shook her head firmly. "No, I didn't."

Crimson chuckled softly. "I can see the injuries," he said simply.

Weiss, remembering something, narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "During your fight with that demon, it mentioned that you can see the 'transparent world' as a human. Does that mean you can still do that now?"

Crimson nodded. "That's right."

Qrow leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "So, what exactly can you see? This has been a mystery to me for a while now."

Crimson began to explain. "When I look at someone, it's as if their body is transparent. I can see what's happening inside—their muscles, their bones, even their injuries. It allows me to predict their movements before they make them. The fastest events look slow to me, almost like they're happening in slow motion. Take a bullet, for example. To me, it would appear as if it's crawling through the air."

The group exchanged stunned looks, the enormity of his explanation sinking in.

Blake, however, looked increasingly uncomfortable. She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted in her seat, drawing the attention of the others.

"What's wrong?" Yang asked, her tone curious.

Blake hesitated before blurting out, "Doesn't that mean... he can see us naked?"

The room froze, everyone processing her words.

Qrow was the first to react, whistling low and shaking his head. "I told you, it's always the quiet ones."

Crimson rubbed his temples in exasperation. "Blake, I don't see you naked," he said flatly. "It's not like that. It's purely anatomical—like looking at a diagram or an X-ray."

Blake's cheeks flushed, but she didn't look entirely convinced. The others, meanwhile, burst into laughter, the tension in the room finally breaking.

As the laughter subsided, Crimson glanced at Blake, his tone turning teasing. "But if it helps, I can look away next time."

Her blush deepened, and the group erupted into laughter once more.