RWBY: Moon Reflection

Crimson opened his eyes to find himself standing on a vast, calm sea. The water stretched endlessly in all directions, smooth as glass and reflecting the heavens above with perfect clarity. The sky was dark, but countless stars shimmered brilliantly, their light untouched by the weight of mortal sorrow. At the center of this celestial tableau hung the moon, radiant and unmarred, a beacon of purity amidst the tranquil scene. Crimson stood in silent awe, his reflection merging seamlessly with the world around him.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a voice called from behind him. Crimson turned sharply, his hand instinctively moving to where his sword would have been, but he froze when he saw the figure before him. A being of serene light stood there, radiating an aura of balance and calm.

The god of harmony regarded him with a gentle smile. "How does it feel, Crimson? To stand here, having died while slaying your demon?"

Crimson's gaze dropped to the placid sea beneath his feet. He paused, searching for words, before speaking. "Is that the path to peace?" he asked, his voice laced with weariness. "To fight other demons and see the most horrifying sights imaginable? To tear myself apart, piece by piece?"

The god's expression remained kind, though a trace of sadness touched their eyes. "You believed yourself to be a monster, Crimson. You thought that you have never changed, that hate was your only drive and doubted every other emotion. But you felt sorrow and anguish from seeing your people killed and harmed even though you knew it was not real, it means you cared about them. And even in your darkest moments, you didn't accept the demon temptation and never surrendered to your negative thoughts. You believed the demon was superior, yet you fought and your humanity won in the end. Does that not prove your humanity is the stronger side and you are not a monster made of hate?"

Crimson stared at the god for a long moment, his crimson eyes glinting with unspoken emotion. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed. It was a deep, genuine laugh, filled with both bitterness and a peculiar sense of relief. "It took me dying to figure that out?" he chuckled. "All this time, I was afraid and worried because I thought my demon was stronger and it was my true nature. What an ending this is."

The god nodded knowingly. "You were stubborn, Crimson. Blinded by shame and burdened by guilt. But now, it is time to face that guilt." With those words, the god's form began to fade, leaving Crimson alone on the serene expanse.

Crimson blinked, confused by the sudden departure, but then a new voice rang out behind him. It was warm, familiar, and filled with emotion.

"Brother."

Crimson turned sharply, his breath catching in his throat. Standing before him was Yoriichi, his brother from his past life. The gentle man looked just as he remembered, his presence radiating warmth and kindness. Yoriichi's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he took a step closer. "The god brought me here, giving me the chance to see you again."

The sight of his brother rendered Crimson speechless. He stood frozen as Yoriichi's tears spilled over. "I'm sorry," Yoriichi said, his voice trembling. "I'm so sorry for how things turned out, for the pain you carried because of me."

Crimson's resolve broke. Tears welled in his eyes and spilled freely down his face. "No," he choked out, his voice cracking with emotion. "It was my fault. I was a terrible brother, Yoriichi. I let my own inferiority and stupidity blind me. I thought you looked down on me, that you ignored me. But the truth is... you only ever loved me, and I hated you for it."

Yoriichi shook his head, his expression filled with sorrow. "No, brother. I failed to express myself. I should have done more to show you how much you meant to me. That failure is mine alone."

The two brothers closed the distance between them, embracing tightly as years of regret and misunderstanding melted away. The weight they had both carried for so long began to lift, replaced by the warmth of reconciliation.

Time seemed to lose all meaning as the brothers remained together. They shared stories, recalled cherished memories, and laughed over moments from their childhood. Crimson spoke of his new life, recounting his adventures and the family he had been given. He confessed the guilt he had carried every day, feeling as though he had failed Yoriichi even in this new life.

Yoriichi listened patiently, his expression one of deep understanding. When Crimson offered to teach him some of the musical instruments and arts he had learned over the years, Yoriichi's face lit up with excitement. The brothers spent what felt like years enjoying these shared moments, their bond deepening with each passing day.

One day, Yoriichi suggested they spar, just as they had in their youth. Crimson agreed eagerly, and the two clashed countless times in friendly duels. Though Yoriichi always emerged victorious, there was no bitterness in Crimson's heart. For the first time, he felt content simply to share these moments with his brother.

Years passed in this timeless realm, the brothers' bond growing ever stronger. But their peace was interrupted one day when the god of harmony reappeared. The god's voice was gentle but firm. "Crimson, it is time for you to return to Remnant."

Crimson's heart sank. He turned to Yoriichi, his eyes pleading. "I don't want to go. I've finally found peace here. I want to remain dead"

Yoriichi placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. "You have family waiting for you, brother. They need you, they will be in pain without you. When your time truly comes, we will meet again, and you will have new stories to share."

Crimson wanted to reject that "I…" but his words stuck, not knowing what to say, he didn't want to go back to Remnant, he didn't want to live again. But he knew Yoriichi was right, he should go back to his sisters.

Tears filled Crimson's eyes as he embraced his brother one last time. "Thank you, Yoriichi. For everything. I will come back!"

Yoriichi smiled, his form beginning to fade into a flicker of light. "Brother, I hope that you will truly embrace your new life. Goodbye, until we meet again."

Crimson turned to the god, bowing his head deeply. "Thank you. I owe you more than I can ever repay."

The god regarded him with a serene expression. "You have no debt to me, Crimson. You have grown stronger in spirit. Now, one last gift remains."

The god extended a hand, and a beautiful Nichirin sword appeared, glowing faintly with a soft light. Crimson hesitated and shook his head. "You've given me far more than I deserve. I cannot accept this."

The god smiled gently. "This sword is yours. Take it, and let it serve as a reminder of your strength and humanity."

With a deep breath, Crimson reached out and took the sword. He unsheathed it, the sword color changed to bluish white, it is as if he held part of the moon. Its weight felt reassuring in his hand, a symbol of his renewed resolve. "Thank you," he said, his voice sincere.

The god nodded, seeing his work had succeeded. "You will no longer need to worry about the mark. It will not claim your life at twenty-five, but it will remain on your face as a symbol of your journey." Crimson nodded, accepting this with quiet gratitude.

The god raised a hand, and light began to envelop Crimson. "Go back to Remnant, Crimson. Your journey is not yet over."

As the light consumed him, Crimson felt a surge of warmth and clarity. 

_______________________

Crimson's eyes fluttered open, and the familiar chill of the mountain air greeted him. He was back. Standing atop the same peak where he had once encountered the god of harmony, the world stretched out before him in all its rugged beauty. The vast expanse of Hinoki forest seemed to shimmer under the early morning sun, and for a brief moment, Crimson allowed himself to simply breathe in the serenity.

He slowly lifted his hands, opening and closing them as he flexed his fingers. Something felt different. Lighter, yet infinitely stronger. Power hummed beneath his skin—not the same raging force that had once coursed through him as a demon, but something refined, controlled. He clenched his fists experimentally, feeling the effortless strength now at his command.

Crimson reached for the Nichirin blade at his side. He drew it in one fluid motion. He exhaled slowly and stepped forward, his movements instinctive as he shifted into a stance he could use only as a demon. With a sharp inhale, he unleashed Moon Breathing: Seventh Form—Mirror of Misfortune, Moonlit! A crescent-shaped slash carved through the air, spiraling outward in a luminous arc before dissipating into the morning mist. He stood still, watching the lingering traces of the technique with quiet awe.

Realization struck him like a tidal wave. He still had the strength, speed, and even the demon arts he wielded as a demon—but without the monstrous transformation. No hunger, no curse, only refined power. A slow smile formed on his lips as gratitude swelled within him. The god had not only freed him from his torment but had left him with another gift. He let out a quiet chuckle and muttered, "I won't miss the six eyes or that freakish fleshy sword."

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved his scroll and tapped the screen to check the date. His eyes widened in surprise. It had been seven days since he'd vanished into the afterlife. All those years spent reconciling with Yoriichi, training, and finding peace had amounted to a mere week in the living world. A faint smile touched his lips as he whispered, "Time works strangely in the domain of god."

Closing the scroll, Crimson pondered his next move. The faces of those he cared for surfaced in his mind, and with them, his brother's last words echoed in his memory. If he was going to live a few more decades in this world, then he would do so with purpose. In this way, he could honor the efforts of his brother and the god who had guided him.

He then remembered General Ironwood's invitation to join Atlas—a chance to reconnect with allies and perhaps find a new path forward. Deciding quickly, he resolved to make his way to Atlas. From there, he would contact his sisters and begin piecing together his life.

Descending the treacherous mountain belt was no easy task, but it was nothing compared to the ascent he had faced earlier. Reaching the peak had taken him seven grueling days, but the return to the city of Kuchinashi, guided by familiarity and renewed strength, took only two.

Once he reached the city, Crimson didn't waste time. He went directly to the aircraft platform. Rows of aircraft—some sleek and modern, others patched together with years of wear—lined the lot. He approached a stout man wearing aviator goggles perched atop his head.

"Looking for a ride?" the man asked, his voice gruff but not unfriendly.

Crimson nodded. "I need to get to Argus. How soon can you leave?"

The pilot scratched his chin, considering. "You're welcome to hitch a ride for the right price."

Crimson raised his scroll and transferred over a generous sum of Lien without hesitation. The man's eyebrows shot up. "That'll more than cover it. Name's Garret."

Crimson entered the aircraft and sat down. The anticipation of the journey ahead filled his thoughts, but beneath it all, a quiet sense of peace lingered. The memories of Yoriichi and the wisdom imparted by the god of harmony were etched into his heart.