W H I T E // Naruto X Rwby

...
"Selene...?!"
Her head snapped up, her tear-streaked face turning toward the doorway. The moonlight from outside poured into the room, casting long, jagged shadows. Standing in the threshold was Willow Schnee, her figure illuminated by the pale light.
Willow's expression was a blend of disbelief and concern, her sharp eyes darting between Selene and Rinko. The sight of her son—bruised, shaken, and on the ground—sent a jolt of shock through her.
"Willow...?" Selene whispered, her voice raspy from the storm of emotions that had just poured out of her.
But Willow didn't immediately respond. Her gaze shifted, catching a glint of something metallic on the floor. A knife. Its blade was faintly stained, and she recognized it instantly. It was the very knife she saw when Rinko was stabbed.
A flicker of rage ignited in Willow's eyes.
Her usually composed demeanor cracked, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "What... do you think you're doing to my son?" she demanded, her tone cold and accusatory.
Selene stiffened, her body coiling like a spring, ready for whatever would come next.
Without a word, Willow extended her hand, her Semblance sparking to life. A series of glyphs materialized in the air around her, their icy glow casting an eerie light across the room. 
In a flash, a Boarbatusk Grimm emerged from one of the glyphs, its hulking, armored form snarling as it charged toward Selene.
Selene's eyes widened in alarm as the Boarbatusk bore down on her, its tusks gleaming wickedly in the moonlight.
At the last possible moment, she rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the charging Grimm. It slammed into the wall with an earsplitting crash, sending shards of stone and plaster flying. Selene coughed, her ears ringing as dust filled the air around her.
"I won't let you hurt my son again!" Willow's voice rang out, sharp and unwavering, cutting through the chaos like a blade. With a fierce motion, she extended her arm, summoning more Glyphs. Their icy glow filled the room as two Beowolves emerged, their snarling forms bristling with malice.
Selene didn't respond, her focus narrowing to the danger in front of her. She could feel the weight of the room pressing down on her—the righteous fury of a mother protecting her child clashing against her own burning desire for vengeance.
Rinko lay frozen in place, caught in the middle of this storm. He turned to his mother, her expression twisted with rage, then to Selene, her face a mask of unrelenting determination. The sight of them locked in this battle made his heartache. Both of them were driven by love and loss, yet their paths were tearing them apart.
As the Beowolves circled Selene, she dashed toward her fallen knife. Her hand closed around its handle just in time to block the first lunging attack.
A Beowolf leaped at her, claws outstretched, but Selene sidestepped with a dancer's grace. Her blade flashed in the moonlight as she drove it into the Grimm's chest. It disintegrated mid-air, its howl of defeat fading into ash.
The Boarbatusk emerged, its blue eyes blazing with unnatural fury. It charged alongside the remaining Beowolf, their combined weight and ferocity shaking the ground with every step.
Selene didn't falter. She locked her gaze on them, her grip tightening on her knife.
The Beowolf lunged first, its claws swiping through the air. Selene ducked low, preparing for a leap, her movements precise and calculated. 
Selene jumped as she twisted her body above the Beowolf, throwing her knife with deadly accuracy. The blade embedded itself in the Beowolf's skull, and it dissolved into dust before it could hit the ground.
The Boarbatusk dashed where Selene was standing moments ago as it hits the wall once again.
As Selene landed behind Beowolf's disintegrating body, she turned just in time to face the Boarbatusk. 
With her knife still lodged in the Beowolf's remains, she grabbed a sharp shard of the shattered vase Rinko had broken earlier. The makeshift weapon was crude, but it would have to do. 
Selene dashed at the head of the Beowolf, grabbing her knife back. Selene's muscles coiled as she sprang into the air, vaulting over the Grimm in a breathtaking leap.
The Boarbatusk paused, trying to turn back toward her, but Selene didn't give it the chance. She lunged forward and delivered a swift kick to its side, sending the massive creature crashing into the wall. Its armored belly was exposed—a moment of vulnerability she wouldn't waste.
With a fierce cry, Selene drove the shard of the vase and the knife into its soft underbelly, slashing deep. The Boarbatusk let out a guttural roar before collapsing, its body dissolving into ash that scattered across the room.
Selene stood amidst the fading remains of the Grimm, her chest heaving with exhaustion. Her hands trembled as she clutched the broken shard, her knuckles white from the strain.
Willow's eyes narrowed as she raised her hand to summon yet another Glyph, but the trembling in her fingers betrayed her uncertainty.
"Stop this!" Rinko's voice cracked as he finally found the strength to shout, stepping between them. His face was pale, his eyes wide with desperation. "Both of you—stop!"
The room fell into a tense silence, the air thick with the aftermath of battle. Selene's breath hitched, her gaze flickering to Rinko, then back to Willow.
Willow lowered her hand slowly, the glowing Glyphs fading into nothingness. Her posture remained rigid, but the fire in her eyes dimmed, replaced by a flicker of something else—regret, perhaps, or doubt.
"I shouldn't have trusted you, Selene!" Willow roared from the entrance, her voice echoing through the room like a thunderclap.
Selene barely flinched. She kneeled on the cold floor, her body trembling as the adrenaline that had fueled her fight drained away.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on her shoulders, and for a moment, she looked so small, so fragile, against the chaos she had unleashed.
Still, she refused to lower her head entirely. Selene slowly raised her gaze, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the pale moonlight streaming through the shattered window.
Her eyes, raw with anger and grief, flickered between Rinko and Willow.
Her fingers uncurled, letting the shard she'd clung to fall from her hand. It hit the floor with a soft clink, rolling away like a discarded memory. Yet, her other hand remained tight around the knife, the polished blade catching the dim light.
The burn in her chest, the unquenchable fire of her rage and despair, still lingered.
The desire to end this, to make someone—anyone—pay for the agony she had endured, refused to fade.
Her grip on the knife tightened, the weapon trembling in her grasp as she struggled to let go of the hate coursing through her veins.
Willow took a step forward, her heels clicking sharply against the floor, each step a reminder of her presence and authority. "You tried to destroy what little I have left," she hissed, her voice venomous. "You dare to lay your hands on my son after everything we've done for you?"
Selene let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and fractured. "Your son," she spat, her voice laced with scorn. "Your son is a Schnee. Do you know what that name means to people like me? To the families crushed under the weight of your husband's greed? Do you even care?"
Willow's eyes narrowed, her mouth opening to retort, but Rinko suddenly stepped between them. His movements were slow, and deliberate, as though the weight of the moment threatened to crush him with every step.
"Stop," he said softly, his voice hoarse and broken. "Both of you, just... stop."
He turned to Selene first, his expression a mix of regret and pain. "Selene," he began, his words faltering as he tried to find the right ones. "I'm sorry. For all of it. For what my father did. For what I represent. For not knowing sooner—" His voice cracked, and he had to swallow hard before continuing. "I don't know how to fix this. But if I could... if there's anything I can do to make this right, I swear I'll try."
Selene's hand, still clutching the knife, trembled. Her jaw tightened as she fought against the storm of emotions threatening to consume her. "You think words will fix this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "You think an apology can bring my parents back? Can erase the years I spent clawing my way out of the pit your family buried me in?"
Rinko took a step closer, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "No, I know it can't," he admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt. "But I need you to know that I'm not my father. I'll never be him. And if you want me to prove it, I will."
Selene froze, her glare unwavering as she studied his face, searching for any trace of deceit. All she found was the fire in his eyes—a desperate determination that refused to be extinguished. She clenched her fists, her teeth grinding in frustration.
"Fine!" she spat, venom dripping from her words. "If you're so eager, if you really want to prove it..." Her hand shot to her side, with a sharp flick, she tossed it toward him, the blade clattering at his feet.
"Then kill yourself."
The room seemed to freeze, the air thick with tension.
Willow's breath hitched, her heart dropping to her stomach. She stared at Selene in disbelief, her voice trembling with a mixture of shock and fury. "What?!"
Rinko looked down at the knife, its metallic glint catching the moonlight, and then back up at Selene, his expression a mixture of sadness and determination. He took a deep breath, his voice steady but heavy with emotion.
"This won't heal you, Selene," he said gently. "It won't take away the pain. It'll only deepen it."
For a moment, his eyes shifted—no longer the fiery determination of Rinko but the tempered wisdom of Kakashi Hatake, the man within him who had known loss all too well. 
His voice softened further, carrying the weight of experience. "I know what it feels like to lose everything. To want revenge so badly that it consumes you. But I'm telling you now—it doesn't bring peace. It just leaves you hollow."
Selene froze, his words cutting through her like a blade.
her anger remained, swirling in her chest like a storm. "You don't get it!" she spat, her voice trembling. "You don't get to decide what will heal me! You don't get to tell me what's enough!"
Her words echoed through the room, filled with anguish.
Rinko didn't flinch. "You're right," he admitted, his tone unwavering. "I don't. But killing me won't change what happened to your family. It won't stop Jacques from hurting anyone else. And it won't stop you from hurting."
Selene's breathing grew ragged as she stumbled back, her tears flowing freely.
Before another word could be said, a new voice broke through the stillness.
"He's right.."
Everyone turned toward the entrance. Behind Willow, a figure stepped into the moonlight.
Jacques Schnee.
He walked into the room with measured steps, his face calm but his eyes no longer held the icy cruelty of the man he once was. Instead, there was a solemn weight in them, a gravity that froze the air but for an entirely different reason. He moved past Willow, who stared at him, speechless.
"Jacques..." Willow whispered, her voice trembling, unsure of what to feel—fear, anger, or confusion.
Rinko's eyes widened in disbelief. "Father...!"
Selene's entire body tensed, her tears forgotten as her rage boiled over. Her hands clenched into fists as she took a step forward, her voice a guttural roar. "YOU!"
Jacques turned his gaze to her, but there was no cold calculation in his expression. No arrogance, no malice. Instead, he looked at her with something unthinkable—empathy.
Selene faltered. It wasn't the reaction she expected, not from him.
Jacques raised his hands, palms open and facing her in a gesture of peace. "Selene," he said softly, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic gentleness. "I know there's nothing I can say that will undo what I've done to you and your family. But I want you to know... I am truly sorry."
The words hung in the air, almost surreal in their sincerity.
"What are you doing?" Rinko asked, his voice cracking with disbelief. "Father... what's going on? Why are you—"
Originally, Jacques was here just to check on his son.
Jacques cut him off with a slight shake of his head, his gaze still fixed on Selene. He stepped closer to her, slowly, as though approaching a wounded animal.
"I remember you," he said quietly. "Your horns... the pain in your eyes."
Selene's breath hitched, her rage clashing with confusion. "Don't you dare pretend you care!" she spat, though her voice wavered.
"I'm not pretending," Jacques replied, his tone steady. "I can't change what I've done. But I can change who I am. I've seen the consequences of my actions, Selene—what my greed and arrogance have caused. And I've been trying to make it right."
Selene's eyes narrowed, her anger flaring again. "Make it right?" she hissed. "You think charity and pay raises will bring my family back? Will erase what you did to us?"
Jacques nodded solemnly. "No. Nothing will ever erase it. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't try. If I can spare anyone else from suffering the way you did, I will. It's the least I can do."
Willow watched the exchange with wide eyes, her hands clutching her chest. This was not the Jacques Schnee she had married, nor the one she had come to fear and resent. This was someone entirely different.
Selene stepped forward, her horns glinting in the moonlight, her fists trembling. "You think an apology will fix everything?" she asked, her voice breaking. "Do you have any idea how many nights I stayed awake, plotting your death? How many times have I prayed to see you suffer like I did?"
Jacques met her gaze, unflinching. "Yes," he said simply. "And you have every right to hate me. Every right to want revenge. But I'm standing here now, offering my apology, because I want to be better than the man you knew. I want to honor the people I've hurt by changing who I am."
Selene's tears spilled over again, her rage beginning to waver. "Why now?" she demanded. "Why not before? Why not when it could've mattered?"
Jacques's expression softened further. "Because I was blind," he admitted. "I thought power and wealth were everything. It wasn't until I lost it—until I was powerless, humiliated, and saved by my own son—that I understood how wrong I was." He glanced at Rinko, pride and regret mingling in his eyes. "He showed me what it means to truly care for others."
Rinko blinked, his throat tight as he struggled to process the moment. "Father..."
Jacques turned back to Selene. "I can't undo the past, Selene. But I want to be part of a future that's better. Not just for me, but for you, for everyone I've hurt."
Selene stared at him, her chest rising and falling as her emotions swirled—rage, grief, and a flicker of something she hadn't felt in years: doubt.
"You don't get to walk away from this," she said finally, her voice hoarse.
"I'm not walking away," Jacques replied firmly, his voice steady but full of vulnerability. "I'm here. If you need me to answer for what I've done, I will. If you need me to pay for my sins, I'll do it. But I refuse to be the man I was."
The weight of his words settled over the room like a heavy blanket. 
For a moment, no one moved or spoke. Selene's hands trembled at her sides, her breaths ragged as she stared at Jacques, her emotions a storm of anger, grief, and confusion.
Then, as if her strength had finally given out, her legs buckled beneath her. 
She collapsed to her knees, her tears spilling freely down her face. Her trembling hand reached for the necklace around her neck—a delicate chain holding a small, battered locket. She clutched it tightly, her knuckles white, as sobs wracked her body.
"Father... Mother..." Selene choked out, her voice cracking under the weight of her grief. Her cries grew louder, raw and unrestrained, echoing through the sterile halls of the hospital like a haunting melody of sorrow.
Willow took a hesitant step forward, her eyes glistening with tears, but she stopped herself, her gaze flickering to Jacques.
Jacques's jaw tightened as he watched Selene crumble before him. For a moment, he seemed unsure, his hands hovering at his sides. The man he used to be would have dismissed her tears, ignored her pain. But now, as he stood before the consequences of his actions, something shifted in him.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and knelt down beside her. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her trembling form.
Selene stiffened at first, her sobs catching in her throat. But Jacques didn't pull away. His embrace was firm but gentle, his touch warm and uncharacteristically tender.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over her cries. "I'm sorry for everything I've done. For everything you've lost because of me."
For a long moment, Selene didn't respond. Her body trembled in his arms, her fists still gripping the necklace like it was her last lifeline. 
Her sobs echoed through the room, raw and heart-wrenching. But slowly, as Jacques held her with an unfamiliar warmth, her resistance began to fade. Her cries softened into quiet weeping, though the tears didn't stop. 
Finally, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, her anguish still palpable but no longer consuming her.
Rinko stood rooted to the spot, his mind racing to process the scene before him. Willow approached him quietly, wrapping her arms around him in a tender, protective embrace.
"Rinko..." her voice was barely above a whisper, heavy with emotion.
Rinko's hands hovered for a moment before he returned the embrace, patting her back gently. "Mother..."
Willow pulled back slightly, placing her hands on his shoulders. She gazed at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she smiled softly. "I don't want to lose you," she said, her voice breaking.
Rinko—Kakashi—made his lips curved into a small, warm smile. "I love you too, Ma..." he replied, his voice steady and sincere.
They both turned their attention to Jacques and Selene, watching as Jacques continued to hold the young woman, his once imposing figure now transformed into one of quiet strength and compassion.
Selene's muffled voice broke the silence, trembling with grief and longing. "I miss them so much," she sobbed. "I just want them back..."
Jacques closed his eyes, the weight of her words striking him deeply. His own tears shimmered at the edges of his vision as he tightened his hold on her. "I know," he murmured, his voice gentle and filled with regret. "I can't bring them back, but I swear to you, Selene, I will do everything I can to honor them. To make up for the man I was."
The room fell into stillness, broken only by the soft hum of machinery as the hospital's power flickered back to life. The harsh fluorescent lights blinked on, illuminating the scene in stark clarity. Selene's Semblance, which had been a reflection of her raging emotions, faded as her shoulders relaxed slightly in Jacques's embrace.
The heavy tension that had suffused the room began to lift, replaced by something fragile yet hopeful—a tentative truce, a sliver of healing amidst the pain.
Willow reached out, placing a hand on Rinko's arm as they both silently observed Jacques and Selene. The sight of Jacques, a man they had once feared and resented, holding the grieving girl with such tenderness was almost surreal.
Jacques opened his eyes, glancing at Rinko and Willow over Selene's shoulder. In that moment, his gaze held a silent promise—a vow to be better, to earn back the trust he had lost, and to ensure that no one would suffer because of him again.
As Selene's sobs quieted, she finally pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face looking up at Jacques. For the first time, her anger seemed to dim, replaced by exhaustion and a faint glimmer of something she hadn't felt in years—relief.
The hum of electricity filled the air as the lights settled into a steady glow, illuminating not just the room but the first steps toward a new beginning.
Jacques placed a hand on Selene's shoulder, his expression resolute. "This is where it starts, Selene," he said softly. "Not just for you, but for all of us."
Selene hesitated, then gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. It wasn't forgiveness, but it was a beginning.
Rinko took a step forward, his mother beside him, and together, they formed a quiet circle of understanding. The fractures between them remained, but the will to mend them shone brighter than ever.
[End]