RWBY: Moon Reflection

Time flowed like a river, carrying the Xiao Long-Rose family through its ever-changing tides. Crimson, true to his word, pursued a path entirely his own. While Ruby and Yang dove headfirst into their huntress training, Crimson enrolled in art school, dedicating himself to the mastery of musical instruments. His passion for the flute became the cornerstone of his studies, but he didn't stop there—pianos, violins, and even traditional string instruments like the koto found their way into his repertoire.

Tai and Qrow were less than thrilled with Crimson's decision. To them, he was wasting an undeniable gift, squandering the potential to become a huntsman of unparalleled skill. Tai had tried countless times to convince Crimson to reconsider. "You're the one of the best fighters I've ever seen, even without formal training," he would say. "You're meant for something greater."

But Crimson's response never wavered. "This is my choice, Dad," he'd say, his tone calm but firm. "I wish to live a life where I don't spend it fighting."

Despite their disapproval, the family gradually learned to respect his decision, even if they didn't fully accept it.

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As the years passed, Ruby grew into a lively and determined young girl with a singular obsession: weapons. Her fascination consumed her. Magazines littered her room, pages filled with schematics, designs, and advertisements for every weapon imaginable. Crimson often found her hunched over her desk, sketching ideas for custom weapons, her mind churning with possibilities.

"Ruby, you've been at this for hours. Take a break," Crimson would suggest, but Ruby would wave him off.

"Just a little longer! I'm so close to cracking this design!" she'd reply, her voice tinged with excitement.

Yang, on the other hand, If there was one thing Yang Xiao Long loved more than sparring, it was her uncanny ability to turn any situation into a pun. No conversation in the Xiao Long-Rose household was safe from her quick wit and endless wordplay.

"Dad," Yang called out during breakfast one morning, holding up a piece of toast. "You could say this is a… butter situation."

Tai and Ruby groaned "Yang, it's too early for this."

"Early? Nah, I'd say it's the toast of the day," Yang quipped, winking at Crimson, who merely shook his head in resignation.

Her love of puns extended to training sessions as well.

"Yang, focus on your form!" Tai barked during a sparring match.

"Don't worry, Dad. My skills are on point," she replied, deftly dodging his strikes with a grin.

"You mean your pun-chlines are," Ruby muttered from the sidelines, earning a high-five from Yang mid-dodge.

Even Crimson wasn't safe from her verbal jabs.

"Crimson, I've got an idea for your sparring matches," Yang said one day.

"Should I regret asking?" he replied with a raised brow.

"Nah, it's a strike of genius. You could call yourself 'The Sword Punisher.'"

"Yang, I don't even use swords, at most they are wooden" Crimson deadpanned.

"Then you're just pun-prepared," Yang fired back, leaving him rubbing his temples while Ruby cackled at his expense.

Ruby's obsession with weapons only added fuel to Yang's pun-fire.

"Ruby, when you finish building your weapon, you should name it 'Slice-Crime,'" Yang suggested one evening.

"That doesn't even work!" Ruby protested, slamming a weapon catalog shut.

"Sure it does! It's cutting-edge humor," Yang said with a wink.

Ruby groaned. "You're the worst."

But Yang didn't stop there. Every new weapon design Ruby considered came with a new pun.

"Ruby, if you're building a scythe, why not call it Grim Reaper? Get it? Like Grimm, but with style?"

"Yang, I swear, one day I'm going to throw my scythe at you," Ruby muttered.

"Don't worry," Yang shot back. "I'll cut you some slack."

Even Tai joined in occasionally, though his puns were more dad-joke caliber.

"I think Yang's jokes are a cut above," he quipped, earning matching groans from Ruby and Crimson.

The only one who didn't seem to tire of Yang's antics was Yang herself.

"Come on, admit it," she said one evening, sitting cross-legged on the couch. "You all love my puns. They're punstoppable."

"Pun-stop talking," Crimson muttered under his breath, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.

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Even as Crimson immersed himself in music, he never turned away from his family. He continued to help Ruby and Yang with their studies, patiently explaining complex concepts and guiding them through their lessons.

"Crimson, how do you make this formula work?" Ruby would ask, her brows furrowed in frustration.

"Think of it like this," Crimson would say, offering a simpler explanation that made the lightbulb go off in Ruby's head.

Crimson also joined the girls in their huntress training. Though he had no aspirations of becoming a huntsman, he saw it as an opportunity to bond with his sisters and help them grow stronger. Sparring sessions became a regular part of their routine, with Crimson often going up against Ruby or Yang—or both at once.

Despite him holding back, the results were always the same: Crimson dominated every sparring match with ease.

"This is ridiculous! How are you so skilled?" Yang would complain, brushing dirt off her pants after being sent flying yet again.

"It is just a second nature to me just like your puns" Crimson would reply, helping her up.

Even though he wielded nothing more than a wooden stick, a metal pipe, or a kitchen knife, Crimson was an unstoppable force. His ability to read movements, combined with his precise strikes and unmatched reflexes, made him an opponent no one in the household could best—not even Tai.

"Dad, you fight him!" Yang once suggested after losing for the umpteenth time.

Tai reluctantly agreed, stepping into the ring with a determined look. But even he couldn't land a solid hit on Crimson, who danced around him with fluid grace, tapping him on the shoulder, arm, or leg with his wooden weapon.

Afterward, Tai could only shake his head, muttering, "You're a phenomenon, kid."

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When the time came for Ruby to forge her own weapon, she dove into the task with unparalleled enthusiasm. She spent days and nights poring over designs, sketching prototypes, and considering every possible configuration. Her obsession bordered on the obsessive, with pages of blueprints scattered across her room.

"This is going to be perfect!" Ruby exclaimed, holding up a rough sketch of her latest idea. "A scythe that doubles as a sniper rifle!"

Yang, in contrast, had already completed her weapon a year earlier. True to her straightforward personality, she had opted for simplicity and efficiency: Ember Celica, a pair of gauntlets with built-in shotguns.

"Why overcomplicate things?" Yang had said with a shrug. "Punch hard, shoot harder. Done."

Ruby rolled her eyes at her sister's lack of creativity but couldn't deny the effectiveness of her design.

Ruby's excitement wasn't limited to her own weapon. She was determined to see Crimson wield something custom-made as well.

"Come on, Crimson!" Ruby pleaded one evening. "I'll help you design it. It'll be awesome!"

But Crimson remained steadfast. "I don't need a weapon," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"You don't need this, you don't need that!" Ruby huffed. "At least make something!"

Yang chimed in, crossing her arms. "Yeah, even a stick with spikes would be better than what you're using now."

But Crimson was unmoved. He continued to use wooden swords, metal pipes, and kitchen knives during training. His unconventional choices drove Ruby and Yang up the wall, but even Tai couldn't convince him to change his mind.

"Why fight it, Ruby?" Tai said with a shrug. "He's unbeatable with whatever he uses. Let him be."

Ruby groaned in frustration, but Crimson only smiled, quietly appreciating her enthusiasm.

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Despite their differences, the Xiao Long-Rose family remained close-knit. Crimson's unwavering dedication to his sisters' growth earned their respect, even if they didn't always understand his choices.

And as the years passed, the siblings grew stronger in their own ways. Ruby's boundless creativity and Yang's fiery determination were complemented by Crimson's quiet wisdom and support. Together, they formed an unbreakable bond, each pursuing their path while remaining connected by love and shared experiences.

But in the back of Crimson's mind, the echoes of his past life never fully faded. As he played his flute, guiding Ruby and Yang through their studies and training, a quiet resolve grew within him. He didn't need a weapon in this life—or so he hoped.

For now, his path remained one of peace, even as the world outside beckoned with challenges yet to come.