After The Rain (ch3)

2-DAY EARLY RELEASE FOR ALL MY PATRONS! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!

I really appreciate the support my readers are giving me on this story! It was very fun for me to write so I'm glad you're enjoying so far! This chapter will finally get into detail about their encounters, as you'll see!

Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY.

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													Chapter 3. Braving The Storm

He might've been a thief and a criminal and a million other things, but if there was one thing to his credibility, it was that he was a man of his word. He'd made a promise and even though the recipient hadn't heard him say it, he was determined to see it through, if only for himself.

He ended up at the same ice cream shop the next day, though just the sight of the place and the man inside made his nose curl.

Roman took shelter from the sun and the crowds in the alleyway he'd seen the girl slink away into, crossing his arms and leaning back against the brick wall to light a smoke. He watched the crowds of families as they lined up at the shop to combat the heat, laughing children and smiling parents.

It made him groan. He hoped he'd robbed at least a few of them at some point in his career.

He waited like a jackal in the shadows, observing the unsuspecting cattle as they meandered in and out without a care. But it wasn't them he was looking for. They were just something to watch.

He checked the alleyway over and over, hoping for a shifting shadow, a small sound of bare footsteps over concrete. But there was nothing for hours, only a stray scraggley cat.

But for once he had nowhere to be, and he was determined to find his charge again. Surely in this heat she'd return to take what was rightfully hers, even if it meant tossing the money to the wind and straight-up stealing like she always did.

He was really looking forward to that.

If she did end up going for it, he was resolved to help her.

But there was no sign of her, not in the morning, not at noon, and not in the evening. All day he waited and he never spotted her. And he'd been looking, so he knew she hadn't simply slipped under his radar.

By sunset the shop was closed, and he'd accomplished nothing other than finishing too many cigars to count. He left his last one at the entrance of the shop again and retreated for the night.

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He visited again the next day, and the day after that, searching for her.

Lines of people entered and left the shop, and it was kind of pissing him off to see this lout getting so much business.

So at one point Roman shifted his vigil a little closer to the door where people could see him clearly. He glared at them all, blowing smoke at the children and snarling at the elders. In this manner he successfully frightened off half the patrons and cut the shop's proceeds nicely.

But even that only gave him a certain amount of satisfaction.

He didn't see the girl again, not even in the days after when he left the shop and began searching all around Vale once more. He knew her tactics by now, where she tended to be at which general ballpark time of day.

He searched everywhere, but found no signs of her.

And then he did something he couldn't recall ever doing before for the sake of another person.

He began to dread.

In terms of everyone else on the planet, he didn't care who got caught and who got killed, who succeeded and who failed. But he cared about that girl.

He began to dread she'd been too hurt to move, that she'd starved, that someone had found her and taken advantage of her weakness. There were people who weren't above killing the homeless and those down on their luck, and if she'd been too injured to protect herself that could've sealed her fate.

He hated this. He hated the knot it put in his stomach. This was why he'd stopped caring about others a long time ago.

But now somehow he'd allowed it to happen again, and he hated it.

After all, that's what it meant to be a solo crime boss. He had a few henchmen, a few lackeys here and there, but never anyone he actually gave a rat's ass about. With no one for him to care or worry about he could focus on efficiency.

But now it was all gone down the sludge-filled drain.

He felt weak just in thinking about her.

He knew he should give up, that he shouldn't have even bothered with her in the first place. But some part of him couldn't simply forget her and move on. He needed to know what had happened to her.

He searched for her for several more days throughout the sweltering city, glimpsing the nooks and crannies and dark corners he knew her to like so much.

But it was the same result. Nothing. Not even a remnant strand of loose pink hair.

Pursuing her was what made him realize how long it had been since he'd had something other than his work to take interest in. She was a reward for him, something fresh and new and curious.

And now that she was gone he had nothing to look forward to other than the next robbery.

So he returned to his warehouse meetings and covert radio calls, planning the next hit with the local goons.

He'd lost track of how many days had passed since he last saw her.

If anything, he was glad to see the ice cream shop drawing in nothing but pitiful crowds now, not even half of what it had used to see. He allowed himself to be smug for that.

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Before long, the heat wave was interrupted by a sudden and heavy rainstorm.

The day was dark and dreary, passing cars spraying citizens in the streets and sidewalks, rickety gutters overflowing and splashing down, tiny torrents of floodwater heading for the sewers.

Roman was cooped up in a meeting all day, showing his current team of bandits a map of the city and where they were going to strike during the next operation. When he dismissed them it was with relief.

He stuck close to the buildings as he walked, the overhangs and his hat allowing him to stay relatively dry. He wasn't even aware of where he was going until he found himself outside the now-desolate ice cream shop. The owner was inside hunched over the counter with his head in his hands, lamenting lost business. Roman gave a devilish grin.

And that was when something caught his eye.

Past the speeding cars and splashing water and people racing for shelter, something stirred in the bushes across the street.

It was strange really. There was no good reason for him to be able to notice such a small flicker of movement in such a bustling city with the rain pelting down.

The only reason he saw it was because some part of him had never stopped looking.

Something inside of him revived at the sight of her, waterlogged as she may be, scurrying through the bushes to seek refuge in the park gazebo across the street. Though the roof shielding her now hardly mattered considering how drenched she already was.

But Roman didn't care about all that. Seeing her again filled him with a sense of excitement and urgency.

He dug into his pocket and pulled out several counterfeit coins and bills, things that were child's play for someone in his department to procure. They were facsimile to the real thing, impossible to detect the differences with the naked eye. Only the most expensive scanners could figure out the difference, and he was confident this sorry excuse for a shop didn't have those at the ready.

He pushed the door to the shop open, startling the man at the counter. Roman held his head high as he saunter through, keeping quiet, eyeing everything with mild yet ravenous interest. It was a tactic to unsettle, and it was working wonders.

The man behind the counter didn't even greet him - a failure in conduct and common courtesy that ensured he deserved the fake bills and nothing more.

Roman prowled up to the counter like a lone wolf about to pounce and gave a smile to match.

"Top o' the mornin, sir. Now, I couldn't help but notice that business isn't exactly boomin' today, and being the gentleman I am I've decided to help ya out a bit. Isn't that swell of me?"

The owner said nothing, but merely looked up at him with dread, as if some part of him knew what kind of man Roman was, what he could do...

"I'll be taking one of those fancy cones," Roman said. "The what's it called... Neopolitan. With all three scoops. Large." He dropped the fake money onto the counter, and the man's eyes swallowed it, though as he moved to prepare the ice cream his hands trembled.

Roman waited, leaning over on the counter, tapping his cane impatiently as the rain hissed outside. When the man finally turned around and handed him the ice cream it was a soundless exchange. Roman took the cone and sighed.

"Not even a 'here you go sir,' or a 'thank you kindly, valued customer'? Honestly, the lack of hospitality is just wretched."

He straightened up and made a move to exit, but before he took so much as a step he turned back. He did this in the way only a crime boss can turn, his face hidden by the shadow of his hat, one eye glaring acidly over his shoulder, harshly enough to curdle dairy.

"Oh. And I just so happened to witness what went on here the other day. Pushing down a poor little girl trying to pay for a snack. If you'd accepted, you would've been one lucky bastard. But now you're at the bottom of the food chain, buddy. Hope you're prepared for the consequences."

And with that he turned back to the door and walked out, leaving the ice cream shop more chilled than if a blizzard had passed through.

As he emerged into the rain, Roman was careful to shield the ice cream as much as possible. He kept it close to himself so the rim of his hat could provide some dryness, then tucked his cane under his arm to let his free hand block the cone from the wind. He checked across the street, scanning the gazebo for a familiar shadow, found it huddled against the darkest corner...

He made his way across the street without even looking, his boots clomping through puddles and streams as he quickened his pace.

Before long he was running, not wanting to lose her this time. Not again.

She must've spotted him coming closer, because no other person in their right mind would be heading her way in this rainstorm. He glimpsed the dual-colored flash of her eyes and saw the fear once again.

When their eyes met she gave him a hunted look, but there was something else as well.

Resolve. But not to flee.

She was curled up on the gazebo bench with her knees pulled to her chest, small and shaking.

Her resolve wasn't to run. It was to accept her fate.

She was too exhausted to run anymore. He could see it in her eyes.

And he could tell by the way she was hiding her arm it was probably broken.

That would explain why he hadn't seen her recently. To a lone thief, a broken arm was as debilitating as a broken leg. Maybe she could still run, but she could only grab half of what she'd used to, and she'd probably dropped half of that as she'd fled.

She'd always been small, but this was just criminal. As he reached the gazebo and stepped underneath, he realized just how pitifully small she truly was.

His body just about filled the entire entrance way, and yet if she'd wanted to she easily could have slipped past him with room to spare.

But she just didn't want to anymore.

Coupled with the weak acceptance in her eyes was defeat.

She was too hurt, too scared, too tired to fight anymore. She didn't know who he was, but she knew he'd been watching her. And she didn't know if he meant to kill her or do something worse, but it didn't matter anymore. She didn't have the strength to resist. All she could do was curl up more tightly in hopes to delay the inevitable.

Roman didn't move for a moment. He simply looked her over, ragged and wet and withered, like an injured animal in the shadow of a predator. The filthy dress was drenched and clinging to her gaunt arms. Her broken arm dangled at her side, and the other she had clutched protectively across her stomach, a stomach that yowled in its vacancy.

It was surreal for him. The specimen – no – the girl he'd been observing all these weeks, the tough little thing he'd come to admire and pity was now a helpless child with a broken arm.

And he could see it in her eyes that her spirit was about to break as well.

For whatever reason, he felt somehow responsible.

He couldn't care less about most people down on their luck; it'd been their own damn faults most of the time, from what he'd seen. But she was the only exception.

He wanted to know more. He wanted to learn. For the first time in so many years he was curious about someone else.

He took a step forward and the girl recoiled, pressing herself as far back against the support of the bench like a mouse cornered by a cat. He stopped immediately and moved back again.

"Poor kid," he muttered. "The hell happened to you?"

He didn't really expect a response, so he wasn't surprised when he didn't get one.

But there was a bit of a reaction from her. Her eyes widened just a little at his tone, the soft, pitiful tone she wasn't used to hearing from grown men. She'd heard it a few times in the past, usually from old ladies who might toss her a coin here or there.

But that had been before when she'd been foolish enough to let people take note of her. Now she hid and no one noticed. And the one time she'd revealed herself, walked up to the counter to buy a legitimate product, it had gotten her a broken arm.

She hadn't eaten in days because of that, because she'd let people see her, because she'd trusted they might care...

Roman saw the contemplation in her eyes, the warring want to run and the want to stay. Or perhaps it wasn't a desire to stay, but a necessity. She didn't seem like she had the strength to run anymore.

Her stomach moaned again, louder than the hiss of the rain, and the girl turned her head, as if willing him to do whatever he'd come to do. Rob her, beat her, maim her, murder her. In spite of his unthreatening words she still didn't trust him. She didn't even remember what trust was anymore.

He couldn't blame her. This world was pretty shitty, and it was shittiest to people down on their luck like her. That was probably part of what drew him to her.

Roman moved carefully, making his steps light and maintaining his distance. He moved so he was standing in front of her again, until her eyes were back on him. He tapped his cane to indicate he wanted her to keep looking at him, and then he extended his right hand.

It seemed she hadn't even noticed the ice cream before, and only now that he was offering it did she acknowledge it. He saw the hunger in her expression, the twitch of her lips, the faint flicker in her eyes.

If she was still strong enough to react and be hungry, then she hadn't completely resolved herself to death just yet.

She wasn't foolish enough to lunge for the offered food and risk a trap, even in spite of her hunger and her love of the ice cream in particular. She wanted to, that much was clear, but she still valued her life enough to be cautious. Her stomach growled louder than the rain and she bit her lip.

Roman stayed perfectly still, keeping the food offered out to her, crouching his posture to make himself appear a little less threatening. He watched her as she watched him.

Her eyes mainly stayed on the food, but every other second she'd flick her mismatched gaze up to his face, and then down at his cane. He understood.

Very slowly, he leaned his cane against the bench and let go of it, indicating he had no intentions of using it or tricking her. He noticed her defensive posture uncurl just a little. Her stomach growled again.

"C'mon," he urged. "It's all yours. Promise."

It was like he was making up for the previous promise he'd made to her, even though she hadn't heard or had any reason to oblige by it. She blinked and met his eyes again, a slight snarl or warning on her lips. He simply shrugged and moved the ice cream closer.

It was wet with raindrops by now and was sagging a little, but the color and the crispness were still there. Irresistible to a starving child.

Finally, after all of her wariness, the girl reached out her shaking hand.

Had the other arm not been injured, he could envision her grabbing with both hands in her sheer desperation. But for now the one small hand extended, the skinny fingers trembling.

Roman didn't budge. He waited, perfectly still, until her fingers finally made contact with the cone. He maintained his grip on it until he could feel that hers was strong enough not to let it slip. Only then did he let go and withdraw a pace.

She was frozen in place for a moment, as if she still wasn't certain this was reality. She flashed him a look swirling with excitement, hunger, and a need for permission. He just nodded.

And with that the girl brought the ice cream close to her lips and gave a timid lick.

Within seconds she was all but scarfing it down, taking in mouthful after mouthful, biting into the cone whenever she could. She ate not only with the fervor of someone starved, but also with the swiftness of someone fearing the giver might change their mind.

She finished the food as quickly as possible, so the offer couldn't possibly be redacted halfway through.

As she was licking the last drops and crumbs from her fingers, Roman slowly made his way to the bench. She watched him diligently now that she had the energy.

He sat down on the bench a few feet away from her and folded his gloved hands between his knees, leaning forward in an inquisitive sort of stance.

The girl didn't recoil this time, but she simply stayed where she was. Her expression now was more puzzled than untrusting.

Roman held her gaze for a moment, and he could see it in her eyes that she was willing to answer his questions in exchange for the treat. Or at the very least, that she was willing not to run off just yet. So he cleared his throat and started off with the basics.

"So where ya from, kid? Here in Vale? Or not from around these parts? Either way you know this city like a pro."

He waited for an answer, but all he received was a dip of her head as she looked to the ground. She didn't seem to be giving an answer. He went on.

"Where are your parents? Family? They leave you? I know they can be pretty shitty. It happens."

Again, she didn't respond. Not even a nod or a shake of her head, not even a glance. He sighed.

"How'd you end up like this? A pretty little thing like you out on the streets is just a shame. Not to say you don't do it damn well, though."

At that she actually looked up at him again, though her expression was unreadable. Roman scratched his head.

"All right, at least gimme your name or something."

And that time she met his eyes. He could see the want to repay him in hers, the desire to exchange the value of what had been given. But when she opened her mouth no sound came.

It puzzled him at first, but when she shook her head and dropped her gaze once again, he merely shrugged.

"That's all right. I'm not forcin' ya."

But he was sensing this was something other than the fact that she simply didn't trust him enough to speak. She was clearly past the stage of fear now and was even willing to repay him with answers. Yet she'd given him only silence. He had an inkling.

"Maybe it's rude of me. Apologies if it is, but can't ya talk?"

She didn't raise her head, as if in shame. Roman clapped his hands softly.

"Hey now, that's fine and dandy. There's plenty of people who can't talk, can't walk, can't read or write, can't see, can't hear. All sorts of "can't"s in this world, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't get to live the life you want, right?"

He tilted his head back to the ceiling of the gazebo, watching the rain falling along the sides.

"But you don't gotta tell me. I already know this isn't the life you wanted, right?"

When he looked back to her she'd raised her face and met his eyes with piercing ones. She didn't need to speak for him to know the answer.

"Course it isn't. As a kid I never wanted to be in this line of work, stealin' and cheatin'. But here I am, and I'm damn good at it. Know this place better than the back of my hand. And so do you."

Now she seemed a bit more intrigued. Wary still, of course, but intrigued. Roman got to the point.

"Say... why don't'cha come with me, kid? I could use someone like you. Quick, smart, sneaky. And from what I can tell you've got a useful semblance, don't'cha?"

Her brow furrowed at that and he grinned a little.

"Yeah, you know I've kinda been spying, right? Apologies for the rudeness. I just couldn't keep away. Glad I didn't."

Silence fell for a moment as the rain patterned down. The fury of it had begun to fade, and now the hissing water turned into a faint misting sound.

The girl searched him with her eyes, and as she did this Roman was the one feeling nervous for a change. That was what made him realize just how desperately he wanted her to come with him, how drawn he was to her, how intrigued and curious.

How lonely he was.

For some reason, this felt like his only chance. So he asked again.

"Whaddaya say? Come with me. We'll get revenge on this no-good town. We'll take back what's rightfully ours. They had the chance to accept us, but that time's come and gone. Now we're taking it into our own hands."

He offered out his right hand to her, an invitation even a girl with no voice could accept or reject.

A long moment drifted by as the rain continued to trickle. Her eyes glazed over with memories he could never even begin to comprehend.

He simply waited as she remained perfectly still.

Watched as she moved her right arm.

Felt it as her hand slid into his.

For the first time in a long time he smiled.

And it wasn't one of those business smirks either.

Gently, he curled his fingers over the back of her hand.

"You sure?"

She looked into his eyes and gave a clear nod. He mirrored the motion.

"Hey, that's great, kid. That's real swell. But if we're gonna be partners in crime, I need a name."

She bit her lip and looked away again, her brown hair falling over the front of her shoulder as she turned her head. A few strands of pink followed, and that's what got him thinking.

He glanced back across the street to the ice cream shop, where the promotional posters were still in the windows. Without even really thinking he uttered the word.

"Neopolitan."

The girl perked up and looked back to him, clearly interested in the name of her favorite treat, the one and only thing she'd ever try to purchase legitimately in this godforsaken town. Her hair and eyes and dress were all the right colors. It was an easy decision.

"Neopolitain, huh? Sounds like a good name for you, kid."

He left the offer hanging on the air for her.

And she couldn't accept quickly enough. She squeezed his hand and nodded, and when he next saw her mismatched eyes there was a sparkle in them. And her lips had almost curved up a little at the corners. He chuckled.

"All righty then. It's decided. Then shall we head back to my place... Neo?"

The girl gasped at the sound of her new name. It was a small, thin little sound that comes with having no voice, but there was somehow so much excitement in it. She nodded.

Roman grinned and stood, supporting her frail weight as she staggered to her bare feet. One of his first orders of business would be getting her some shoes, some new clothes, some more food...

But for now...

He kept his right hand with hers until she could stand on her own, then only let go to remove his trench coat. This he draped over her small shoulders, carefully as not to invade her space in a frightening manner. The material of his coat felt so heavy now that he was placing it on her, but she didn't sway.

Next he removed his hat and placed it on her head. When she looked up at him curiously he just shrugged.

"Didn't bring an umbrella."

And this time she actually did smile.

Roman picked up his cane and looked the girl – Neo – over one last time. The coat and hat seemed to swallow her, but also seemed cozy. He cleared his throat and turned toward the threshold.

"Well then, shall we m'lady?" He offered his hand once again.

For a moment she simply adjusted to the weight and warmth of the new clothes on her body, clutching the coat to her chest to both keep out the rain and conceal her injured arm.

But at his offer she stepped forward.

Carefully, but with more confidence now than timidness, Neo slipped her hand into his.

And it was strange as they walked back out into the rain together.

Because it was the first time either of them had walked next to someone else with smiles on their faces.

The rain washed away their footsteps, hiding their tracks in the grey city, a city that from today onward they would take their revenge on and face together.

Starting from here, from now, they were heading toward a new future.

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A/N: I'm so glad the few people reading this are enjoying the writing style! It's been a while since I've gotten to use this kind of style and I had a ton of fun doing it!

This seems like a good nice place for an ending, so if you like it, you can just stop here! However, if you want to know a bit more of their story, look forward to chapter 4!