Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction based on multiple existing anime/manga series. The characters and settings used in this story belong to their respective owners and creators, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to infringe upon any existing intellectual property. I do not own any of the original works that inspired this fanfiction, and I fully support the original creators and their works.
I'm also exceedingly exceedingly exceedingly rarely chilling in JaxWolf4's (Author of Nah, I'd Adapt and Zenin Days) Discord Server. It's a chaotic lobotomy mess. Not for the faint of heart.
Here's the link:
Disc: HrPrTeam
-Story Start-
He had already gotten used to the subtle scent of oranges and lavender.
Sitting squarely, Alex met his therapist's troubled frown with a similar countenance.
"Participate in the Vytal Festival... it is far too soon for you." He murmured audibly enough for Alex to hear.
Alex sighed in a subdued, resigned manner. "I know, not too pleased about it either. But it's the 'Gods' orders."
In truth, Alex didn't believe it was asking him for too much this time, especially for a Main Quest. However, his state of mind made participation far too... risky.
[I told you, you won't break there. Simply follow my directives.]
The insidious tone tried to reassure him, but Alex ignored it - he could never trust this thing, even if it was right.
"What's the... 'punishment'?"
Alex's lips pursed as his hand unconsciously reached for the hilt of Excalibur. "A week of 'Damnation'." He added to clarify to the Doctor, "Probably taking me back to... that place."
Doctor Indigo exhaled through his nose as he leaned back into his chair. "Stuck between a rock and a hard place."
"No kidding." Alex's frown deepened, exhaustion marring his features.
Frustration took hold of his stoic features as he took a deep breath and took a sip of the coffee that sadly had gone cold by now.
Taking a deep gulp of the cold, bitter liquid, he nodded and met the Doctor's look with a certain resolve in his otherwise dull amber eyes.
"I don't know, we don't know what I'll do if I'm in that arena. Life or death, danger, whatever. If it means I lose control of myself once again, if it means that I'll accidentally injure or even kill one person there because of it-"
Doctor Indigo cut him off, completing the sentence for him. "You'll take the punishment, is that it? Intentionally fail the directive given to you?"
Alex nodded. "I think it's the right call. I... can endure a week in there." His figure trembled with visceral discomfort.
The doctor fell silent, visibly weighing the options.
"Has Ozpin heard of this yet?" Doctor Indigo raised a finger.
"Not yet, but I'd like your... professional opinion on what I should do before trying to convince him. I'd like to avoid going to that hell if I can help it."
[Your bullheadedness frustrates me, Alexander. But I do not dislike this line of thought either.]
"Quite the weight on my shoulders." The well-regarded therapist chuckled lightly, yet the uneasiness was visible as he nodded. "I'd prefer it if we had more time-"
"There's a month."
"I'm aware of when the tournament takes place; do not worry. Right now, I can't guarantee my approval for you to go forward with the tournament. Even if you can spar before the eyes of many in Beacon with your team without experiencing an episode, it is not quite on the same level as the Tournament."
"Beacon sparring is controlled. The tournament, however, isn't. The crowd, the pressure, and the opponents who stake even their lives for glory, willing to injure themselves for victory, could all change your response."
Alex's features stilled in uncertainty as the doctor pressed on. "I know you might feel confident since you've been fine up to now, and that there is no life-and-death situation going on; however-"
"Triggers aren't binary or static, I know, you told me."
"Exactly so, young man. So...
"I get it. I'll prepare myself and fail it-"
A palm raised as the Doctor insisted, "Wait, don't decide that so quickly on your own."
Alex's mouth flattened. "...We're talking in circles. What do you suggest I do, Doctor?" His head tilted slightly.
"We talk to Ozpin; I'll try to accelerate the on-field treatment for you. He's been working on setting it up, but it's been a low priority given everything else he's had to deal with. I didn't protest. I was hoping to help you without resorting to that method."
"So depending on how that goes... you'll either recommend me to go or not?"
The doctor nodded silently, a small yet troubled smile on his lips.
Huffing through his nose, Alex nodded as well, meeting the Doctor's eyes resolutely.
"Then promise me one thing."
"What is it?"
"If you think there is even the slightest chance that I lose myself in the tournament. Don't approve, I'll be fine with the punishment."
"If I believe the risk remains substantial, I won't recommend your participation. You have my word."
Their session ended with a long, agonizing call to Ozpin that stretched well beyond the scheduled hour.
Thankfully, he was the last client of the day.
And he wasn't the one paying for it.
Praise be to Ozpin and the Schnee wealth.
As usual for him since the semester ended, he was heading back home after the therapy session.
And this time, without having to purchase anything for his house-arrested teammates who long for Vale goods.
-----------------------------
The sun had set well below the horizon as night was settling in. The gargantuan shadow of Amity Colosseum loomed over the city of Vale and even managed to reach the forests and mountains near Beacon Academy.
Alex's bullhead landed on a rather quiet campus, at least, relative to the prior excitement of the arriving international students.
[Ozpin will have to take over for the costs of your visits to Doctor Indigo.] A curt message appeared on Alex's scroll on the way back to his dorm.
[Alright. Thanks for the help so far, Weiss.] He wrote back as he strolled across the dormitories of Beacon Academy.
He accepted it as is; if necessary, he'd chip in with his own money for the treatment.
He had enough stockpiled for at least... a few sessions.
The dorms, however...
They seemed far emptier than normal, and thankfully, they weren't hosting any of the foreign students either.
He wasn't in any particular mood to indulge them with... anything really.
[When are you in that kind of mood ever, anyway?]
The system's sarcasm went unanswered as usual, as he finally reached just a few feet away from his own dorm room.
Something was rather amiss, however.
His eyes narrowed at the door leading into Team RAWP's dorm room, noticing that...
Some random dude entered.
Well, not random.
Alex's memory fought for its life to recall this stature and hair color, at least from the back of that guy, to tell he was a freshman.
They had perhaps exchanged like... at least five sentences in this entire semester.
"Or maybe not," Alex admitted lightly with a scratch of his cheek, strolling back into his dorm unbothered.
He took a step forward, and then he froze as the gears in his head finally began to turn.
This had never happened before.
Suspicion crossed his stoic features as he contemplated. "Has one of them brought a guy to the room?"
It didn't quite fit any of them at all.
But it wasn't really anything outlandish either; it happened often with other teams in Beacon.
'Intruding would be rude.' He confirmed lightly, but then was struck with another dilemma.
"These things usually have an etiquette." He mused aloud.
The usual strategy was making sure no one from the Team was around, or, failing that, warning them to go take a hike for a while.
And well... none of that had happened here.
His teammates, while not recluses who admired the lifestyle of a deadbeat like him in the between-semester time of his life, weren't allowed to leave Beacon and were usually out of the room.
But they could and did come and go spontaneously without warning; he'd know since he's the stay-at-home guy.
He could simply walk in, go to sleep, and ignore whatever poor decision was unfolding, but his teammates would never let him hear the end of it.
Or... perhaps he was misunderstanding.
"Fine, whatever." He let loose his unsuppressed hearing, deciding it was better than walking in on something private and embarrassing them.
Noises overlapped with many, many voices. Some he managed to discern while others required some effort to tell apart.
"There are twenty people in there." He confirmed with a sigh as he returned to his casual pace and simply pushed the door open, seeing as it was unlocked.
[Get your mind out of the gutter, Master~!]
A quiet, casual creak. He entered the room, and his eyes were met with twenty freshmen, including his teammates minus Weiss and JRNY.
Ruby's commanding, jovial tone rang out. "Now, brilliant minds of the freshmen! What are we working with for the challenges in-"
None noticed him, as their eyes were directed away from the door, and it seemed they assumed that he was yet another would-be arrival.
That's fine with him; his eyes immediately went for the prize.
His amber eyes narrowed sharply, fixating on the premium, exclusive coffee machine of his. He missed no detail.
From the looks of it...
'Someone used it.'
But the eyes were not enough; it was far too early to enact judgement just yet.
His nose twitched as he tried to discern a specific odor among the amalgamation of perfumes and... engine fuel that permeated the room.
He found it.
That bitter, exotic aroma that he so adored.
Guilty, they were guilty.
He could forgive his teammates taking some for themselves...
But to share his treasure with his classmates without his clear approval?
"A cooking challenge!" Jaune raised his hand.
"Hmm... that'll take a lotta work but-" Yang mumbled in contemplation.
Her younger sister cut her off sharply, giving a glitter-eyed nod of approval. "WE'LL DO IT! COOKIES SPECIFICALLY-!"
And, just like she interrupted her sister's contemplation, her own words were cut short by an annoyed tone.
It was a dull, even tone that wasn't too loud, but neither was it too quiet.
Even so, all who heard it, as they recognized it, immediately turned sharply to the source.
"Who the fuck used the coffee machine?"
To Be Continued!