Chapter 10
Heat suffused his nostrils. Sulphur with a flash of light. Darkness swam and drowned the world.
His wolf ears strained as he raised his shield. The familiar hiss of bullets pelted his body. Some of them clanged off Vigilance. His shoes slid on the tiles, bleeding off the kinetic force. Vigilance and his aura would protect him from any lasting damage.
The gunfire stopped, mags clattering over tiles.
Nex peered over Vigilance, the dark spots starting to fade.
Masked men and women funnelled into the hallway.
Hrunting's blade shortened, extending the barrels on its guard. His finger twitched. The double-barrelled shotgun roared, spitting explosive shells into the crowd.
Smoke erupted from the hallway. The resulting bang sent their ranks scrambling for cover.
It gave him the precious seconds needed to close and lock the miraculously intact doors.
Again.
"I can't believe they have the gall to attack the school!" Weiss said. "Are you okay?"
Nex collapsed Vigilance into its more unassuming form and sheathed Hrunting. He was a bit rusty. The last time he went to do some mercenary work was two weeks ago. Then the robot dog took away most of his free time.
"I'm good at defence. So, you know who they are?" Nex said. "Should I be sorry that I kinda shot at them?"
Whoever these people were, they had either balls of steel or a death wish.
Atlas Primary was a school composed of fighters. While most of its staff were civilians, the rest of the school's population were either professional huntsmen or trainees. Besides, the school made its home in the heart of Atlas. The military should arrive in ten minutes to sort everything out.
"You really have no idea?" Weiss said. "Have you been living under a rock?"
Nex shook his head, looking for an object to barricade the door. "Nope. I don't really watch TV. Are they celebrities? Some sort of eclectic boy band?"
Weirder things happened before. It was a rule of thumb to never discount any possibility, no matter how ridiculous it may have been.
"This isn't the time for jokes!" Weiss said. "The White Fang are extrajudicial terrorists hellbent on realizing their ideas of equality. They're faunus extremists willing to do anything to achieve their goals. Anything."
Ah.
So that was the reason why the ceramic masks looked familiar.
Someone came knocking a few nights ago, offering a mask of the same design. The faunus preached about the coming revolution. Seeing as he neither wanted it nor asked for it, the man's offering found itself in the dumpster.
In hindsight, he should have sold it to a curiosity shop for some extra lien.
"I take it they only recruit faunus?" Nex said, grabbing a steel pipe from one of the desks. "That seems to be a really short-sighted way of going about it."
Who knows?
Maybe there were some humans out there who wanted to join the White Fang. Have a cheap thrill shooting up schools or something.
The books on recent history would disagree. But then again, they did not mention anything about the stupid masks.
"Yes. They accept any faunus into their ranks," Weiss said. "They didn't... try to recruit you, did they?"
There was that wide-eyed look on her face—the look of pure, unbridled fear. She stood a few feet away from the door, hands already held out. Probably to summon her glyphs. But without dust, they would be next to useless. Good for opening doors and probably not much else.
A White Fang goon typed into the electronic terminal, obviously trying to hack the doors from the outside. Must be difficult, considering that Atlas Primary boasted bleeding edge firewalls.
"Yep. But I'm too lazy for their revolution crap," Nex said, nodding to himself. "I'm definitely not keen on doing things for people I don't know."
It was true. Surviving on his own was difficult enough. Trying to take on the problems of the world would have chopped his neck off. It was either him or them. And he made that promise to his mother.
"You refused. Thank you," Weiss said, breathing a sigh. "You don't know how much that means to me."
"Yeah, sure," Nex said, turning towards the door. "Just promise you'll treat me to dinner after we get out of here alive."
Dinner being steak. All hail the steak. The rare ones in particular.
Nex placed the pipe between the door handles. "That should hold them."
Reinforced glass comprised the double doors of the lab. Left unlocked and unguarded, a strong enough person might have forced it open. But now, the White Fang's chances of breaking through were slim.
"What are you doing?" Weiss said, grabbing his arm. "We're not just going to sit here and wait."
Nex shook his head.
There were armed men taking up posts outside the lab. A goon was working on the door, and a lot more stood by the lockers. They looked like green recruits, but it would be a close fight. One goon was holding his rifle wrong and another was fidgeting with his sword. They could have broken the glass with more gunfire, but they chose to rely on their hacker instead.
He could definitely beat any one of them on his worst day. But still, a fire-fight was risky. Others believed in quality over quantity, but they never considered quantity had a quality of its own.
"Nope. That's insane, Weiss," Nex said. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but there's only two of us and more than two dozen of them."
Weiss squared her shoulders, her eyes piercing into his. "This is what we're training for, Nex. To uphold the safety and security of the Kingdom of Atlas."
And were those words not familiar?
He said those exact words to Winter. But it was for his own agenda.
Weiss probably spoke them out of duty. A desire to protect people she probably did not even know.
Something curled up inside his stomach, dying with a mewl.
Once upon a time, he would have blown her off, called her something in between spoiled and idealistic. But she was warm. And bright. And happy. Someone who staved off sleep—a spring bud of some sort. Maybe even a sunflower. The only one in the entire school.
It was foolish, selfish, and all the other things his mother would have called him for it, but he hated losing.
There was no way he was going to start now.
"Please," Weiss mumbled, her shoulders sagging. "I can't possibly do this alone."
The smart, talented woman looked like she was the loneliest girl in the entire world.
Nex took her hand, the one wrapped around his arm. And gave it a squeeze. It was strange, but he was missing the days when his biggest problems were himself. What happened to those days in the darkness of their flat?
"We're doing this then," Nex said, heaving a sigh. "But we're doing it my way."
Screw it.
It did not hurt to try, did it?
Nex pointed at a cabinet, turning away from the grin on his partner's face. "There's some dust in there. Stock up on everything, especially gravity dust. Prioritize hard light if you find any."
His partner snapped into action, her hand slipping away from his.
The warmth was... nice.
Strange, even.
Even better than one of Mekel's toasty heaters.
But there were more important things to do than whatever it was that came over him.
"I have some elementary dust," Weiss said. "But I don't think they store hard light in the lab."
Right. That type was expensive and a prime target for student theft.
No matter.
Vigilance was still full up on dust. His partner's glyphs would have been capable of blocking bullets with hard light, making their job way easier. But he could compensate for her inability to soak gunfire with his shield's gimmicks. Gimmicks he was probably using for the first time in school.
"Then there's only one way to do this," Nex said. "Get ready."
Vigilance expanded into its second form—an ordinary heater shield.
Nex tugged at his aura, channelling it into his shield. The weapon whirred to life.
Hrunting stared down the one-way glass.
His finger twitched.
The barrels roared.
Glass shattered.
A hail of shards lacerated a goon—the one by the electronic panel.
His ears rang, his brain clattering.
But he leapt.
The opportunity would not last.
Hrunting's pommel slammed into a mask, bone-white shattering under gold.
The goon screamed. His furred hands pawed at his eyes.
A fatal mistake.
Nex brandished Vigilance, the weapon crackling with streaks of yellow and black. Waltzing. Intertwined with each other. Nature's wrath in harmony, guided by his semblance. His shield smashed into the man's torso, propelling the goon straight into the wall.
The bite of ozone stung his nose.
A sharp whoosh.
He twisted, his shield deflecting a sword.
Predictable.
The goon flew head-first into the ceiling. A black glyph spun under her feet.
"Open fire!" a man screamed. "Get the heiress! Open fire dammit!"
"Stay behind me!" Nex said, staring at the muzzles. One. Two. Three. And fuckity fuck. His semblance blared. A fire alarm with an epileptic seizure. "Use the dust with your glyphs."
Light exploded.
Guns rattled.
The storm fell.
Nex shoved his body into the rain of bullets, his arm shaking as constant force spilt over the barrier. His wolf ears flattened on his scalp.
Turtling here would entail a high probability of death. It was unknown how much ammo these White Fang goons had. Starting a war of attrition was a stupid idea. One that would have gotten both of them killed.
Red glyphs spouted fire.
Pale blue glyphs breathed ice.
Yellow glyphs spat lightning.
The elemental maelstrom sliced through their ranks—a thousand-degree knife shredding through butter. The end result was charred and frozen bodies collapsed on the tiles. None of them had the chance to even bleed before they blacked out. Aura was powerful, but it did not nullify everything.
Certainly not pain.
Nex disengaged Vigilance. The blue light shimmered, fading from floor to ceiling, from side to side. He would have to bargain with Roman under the table. The thief stayed in Vale, having made the kingdom his home turf, but his mute helper was only one teleport away.
"Something's wrong," Nex said, poking one of the bodies. Still breathing. Alive then. But unlikely to be a threat. If he had his way, he would have secured the hallway more permanently. "The military should be here already."
Weiss nodded, clutching her weapon and scroll. "You're right. They should be."
Should be, being the operative phrase. Maybe the school was not the only place being hit by the White Fang. Or maybe the military did not know.
Not yet.
Weiss fumbled with her scroll. "Winter? Are you—yes, yes, we're alright. I'm with Nex. What do you mean?!"
Winter said something at the end of the line.
"Yes, I promise," Weiss said, nodding. "We won't take any unnecessary risks."
She pocketed her scroll.
Nex raised an eyebrow. Not suspicious at all. "I get the feeling that by saying unnecessary, you're going to do something reckless and dangerous and justify it as completely necessary."
Weiss scowled, glaring at one of the unconscious goons. "They've occupied the school and taken everyone hostage. The military has the school surrounded, but they're not making any headway into negotiations."
Great. Negotiating with insane terrorists. What could possibly go wrong?
"Well, what are their demands?" Nex said. "I'm sure a terrorist cell needs lien to function. I say give it to them."
Money made the world go round, after all.
Weiss clipped her weapon to her belt, her lips tightening. "The White Fang's only demand is simple. They want the headmaster to give up a student."
"Who?" Nex said.
No way, right? No fucking way. Not even in his best nightmares.
"Me. They want the heiress of the SDC to turn herself in," Weiss said. "No complaints, no fanfare. Just me."
Nex blinked, resisting the urge to stab the bodies in the hallway. Just to be sure, he collapsed Vigilance and sheathed Hrunting. He wanted to ask why, but that was relatively unimportant right now.
Weiss needed to get away.
The White Fang was after her nuts.
If he had his way, he would be taking their nuts instead.
"Nope. No way. Not an option," Nex said. "I'm not handing you over to the White Fang."
Left unsaid was the fact that he would have easily done the opposite. He would have chosen the third option. The one where his partner escaped and he traded the entire school for her life.
"Of course not. It'd be a public execution," Weiss said. "The White Fang would kill me. There's no escaping the school—"
"And what they want is right here," Nex said, chuckling as his grip on Hrunting and Vigilance tightened. "These goons are crazy."
Weiss laughed. "I don't know what to do, Nex. It should be easy, right? It should be easy to turn myself in for the greater good. But—"
Nex grabbed her shoulders. "Nope. No buts. You still owe me dinner. You know where they're keeping the hostages?"
For the greater good. That phrase again. He lost one too many people to that phrase. And he hated losing. Fuck the greater good. Fat load of good it did him.
"The auditorium's the only place spacious enough," Weiss said, smiling as her eyes stared into his. "Their drones say that it's under heavy guard."
"Say..." Nex said, his brain spinning at a hundred-twenty rpm. "Your sister can have the drones drop some stuff, can't she?"
Weiss arched an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"
"Inspiration," Nex said, cracking a smirk. They would never see it coming. "These goons aren't the only ones who know how to make homemade stuff."
It was clever of them, admittedly.
A bomb that emitted heat and a flash of light could be made in the kitchen. It would have hobbled and blinded Weiss if she was the one who opened the door.
Humans relied too much on sight.
Clearly, they did not account for one of their own kind to be with her—one who had an extra pair of ears.
His partner placed another call while he piled the unconscious bodies into one corner.
It was a good thing the White Fang amateurs took out the hallway's cameras with their guns. The school's surveillance room would be already taken, giving the terrorists free use of the remaining cameras. Right now, they were effectively persona non-grata in the hallways of Atlas Primary.
Nex watched the rest of the maze, just to be safe and to make sure that it stayed that way.
"Winter's been cleared to give us what you want," Weiss said. "She sent a drone to deliver the package."
Said drone fluttered through the nearby window, carrying a basket.
If Winter received the message well, it would contain a pouch of electricity dust, a set of portable, programmable speakers, a tuning fork, a thickly padded headband, and a pair of earplugs. It had freshly baked bagels and mineral water as well, which he shared with his partner before he got to work.
Got it.
Nex raised the modified speakers, dropping the tuning fork on the tiles. "This little thing outputs a frequency harmful to faunus. It induces intense nausea and vomiting, and sometimes temporary blindness. You do know what this frequency is called, right?
"The Mantle Frequency," Weiss said, frowning as she glared at the speakers. "Recently discovered after The Faunus Rights Revolution. You know that it's illegal."
Nex nodded, cracking a smirk. "Yep. But all's fair in love and war. It's certainly a shame that the White Fang only recruits faunus."
All was fair in love and war.
Especially in war.
The only thing missing was a big enough PA system. A certain room came to mind.
They needed to hurry.
His partner owed him a steak.
Chapter 11
Hrunting in its spear form certainly made for an amazing club.
Nex whacked another goon on the head, giving the guy a massive concussion, and finishing it off with a merciful kick to the balls.
Weiss dealt with the goon's partner as quickly as he did. A sheet of ice formed over the second goon's mouth. A zap of lightning sent him reeling to the floor.
They had to go for the throat.
Aura would render superficial blows useless, and his partner probably used that fact to justify her abnormally vicious methods.
As for him?
Well, it was just life.
The White Fang came here on a suicide run. Their goal being to kill his partner. If that did not justify kicking a man in the family jewels, then what did?
They were lucky he gave them a concussion before robbing them of their dignity. At least then, they would wake up with a splitting headache and not with a shattered pride. Preferably behind bars where they could think over their job prospects.
Terrorism was stupid and probably did not pay very well. Doubtful his father would receive the same treatment. Nope. It was going to be a straight kick to the balls with that one.
"We need to take a right," Weiss said, kicking an unconscious goon. It was great that somebody else was feeling the force behind her flats. "The headmaster's office should be right this way."
Nex led his partner through the hallway, dodging the cameras that swivelled every few seconds or so.
The timing was incredibly precise.
There was no shame in admitting that they only made it this far because of his semblance. It made avoiding the cameras simple, child's play. Not that any kid in the park would be playing dodge-a-camera. But it was something he would allow his kid to play, if he ever had one.
Kids. That was a thought.
But he really had to focus on the task at hand.
Nex dragged the bodies to the sidelines, stuffing them inside the trash bins. Those that could not fit, he just shoved into a corner. Hopefully, no one would see them. They had no time. A steak was waiting for him. It was something to blame Roman for.
The thief brought him to a fancy dine-in on one of his past birthdays. It turned out that rare steak to a wolf was as addicting as tuna was to a cat.
Neo laughed silently as she ate her ice cream, watching him shovel chunks of meat into his ravenous mouth.
"This is it, Nex," Weiss said, stopping in front of a polished, wooden door. It bore the emblem of Atlas in gold carvings. "Are you ready?"
Nex grinned. "Born ready."
Hrunting's shaft shortened into a hilt. The barrels clicked, staring at the door.
Let it be said that shooting the headmaster's door would be extremely satisfying.
It was a matter of principle, and it would be right up there with his best memories along with putting laxatives in Qrow's flask.
"I never expected that I'd get this opportunity," Nex said. "White Fang, thank you very much."
If Weiss found the sentiment strange, she refrained from voicing it.
Boom.
Hrunting blasted the door with extreme prejudice. He was shooting wasted taxpayer lien right there.
The gaudy wood collapsed inwards, sending a cloud of sawdust and smoke into the room.
Weiss burst into the headmaster's office, rapier held at the ready.
Nex blinked, even as his feet moved to follow his partner.
What the fuck?
Hard-on Silverstain sat on the headmaster's spinny chair, shaky arms aiming a rifle. Straight at them. If the boy fired the rifle as it was, the recoil would blow his eye out.
Weiss glared at the boy with the machine gun. "Silverstein, what are you doing?"
"I warned you, Weiss. I warned you that you're the only one for me," Hard-on said. "Now that the White Fang is here, there will be no escape. Your little pet can't protect you."
Pet?
Fuck.
There were more important things at stake.
Nex levelled Hrunting at the boy's balloon head, rifle and shotgun staring each other down. "You're telling me that you invited the White Fang and expected them to hand Weiss over? Just like that?"
Hard-on's face scrunched up red. "My plans are foolproof. Even now, I'm on the verge of success."
"The only thing you're on the verge of is getting more holes in your stupid face," Nex said, stifling the urge to giggle at the stupidity of it all. Either that, or drink himself to a stupor. When did he start acting like Qrow? "Now move over. Let the adults do their job."
"How..." Weiss said.
His partner's rapier shook in her grip, the blade re-enacting an intense vibrato in one of her classical songs. Snowflakes shimmered, cooling the toasty air by at least a few degrees.
"How dare you!" Weiss said. Hard-on's rifle flew from his grip. It smashed into the wall behind. "How dare you put the entire school at risk! And for what? Just for a delusional grab at my family name!?"
Wow.
Nex shifted, glancing at the ruined doorway. Was it too late for Plan B?
"Well, you're not getting it, Silverstein," Weiss said, taking a deep breath. "The military has the school surrounded. Nex has a foolproof plan to deal with the White Fang. As my partner said, move over."
Hard-on chuckled, sweat running down his face. "I have a partner too. Say hello, Ilia!"
A moment of silence.
Nex strained his semblance. But no matter how far or how many possibilities it stretched into the future, there was no such thing as an Ilia in the headmaster's office. In fact, there were no other heartbeats in the room aside from Weiss, Hard-on and his. Unless this Ilia was a dead faunus, then Hard-on was probably high on some pretty potent bath salts.
A chilly breeze fluttered through the open window, blowing a piece of paper off the desk.
"Ilia?" Hard-on said, his eyes roving over the pristine walls. "Ilia? This isn't funny. You faunus bitch!"
His finger twitched.
Hrunting roared, blasting a hole into the water-stained portrait just behind Hard-on. That one probably cost thousands of lien. Certainly more than what he made in a month.
"What's an Ilia?" Nex said. "Move over. I'm not going to miss again."
"No, no, no!" Hard-on snarled. "This isn't over, I'm just—"
Weiss growled. Lightning arced from her rapier.
Hard-on convulsed in his seat, eyes snapping shut. The boy slumped. Probably into unconsciousness.
"There," Weiss said, her lips curling into a definitely illegal smirk. "I can't deny that I found that extremely cathartic."
Nex dragged the boy from the chair, tossing him on the carpet. Of course, he made sure to wipe his hands clean on the desk cloth. Hygiene and sanitation and all.
"Don't worry," Nex said, grinning. "I won't tell anyone about your grossly inappropriate conduct."
Weiss gasped, her eyes twinkling as she mirrored his grin. "How dare you, Mr Shade?"
Nex tapped the headmaster's microphone, keying it into the school-wide PA system. "How dare I, Miss Schnee. How dare I, indeed."
Nex attached the modified speakers to the microphone. Then he slipped on his earplugs and his headband, keeping his extra pair of ears pinned under the cloth. The world was muffled, his hearing practically null. His partner stood by the doorway, probably guarding the room against anyone who might interrupt.
Nex flipped the switch.
"Specialist Schnee, this is Huntsman Trainee Shade," Nex said with his best military drawl. It was like speaking underwater, only that his lungs did not suffocate. The ice queen stared back, unamused on his scroll. "You are clear to breach the premises. I advise that faunus operatives refrain from stepping within range of the ultrasonic weapon. I repeat, you are clear to breach. I repeat, refrain from deploying any faunus operatives. Over."
Said ultrasonic weapon was the school's PA system blasting an anti-faunus frequency, but Winter probably already knew that. It sounded cool, though. Like he was some sort of spy on a secret mission. The only thing missing was a fedora and he would totally nail the look.
When Winter marched through the broken doorway, he was definitely prepared to hear some very strong words about their methods. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Weiss, the younger sister struggling against the older sister's chest. He smiled, spinning the headmaster's chair with his back.
"So... uhhh, not to interrupt," Nex said. "But we didn't break any laws, did we?"
The Mantle Frequency was illegal in all four kingdoms. It had repercussions, severe ones if their history professor was to be believed. Using it against faunus would only alienate them further from human society, possibly sparking another Faunus Rights Revolution. Only this time, it would be called the Faunus Earplugs Revolution or something.
The ice queen unwrapped herself from his partner, facing him in her specialist uniform. It was weird to see her dressed as sharply as she was, in contrast to the smart-casual clothes she normally wore in the Huntsman's Respite.
His partner skipped towards him, nudging his shoulder. Probably to make him stand up from the headmaster's chair.
Nex hauled himself to his feet. Begrudgingly, his brain mourning the comfy chair. He would give her this one moment just so he could have a free steak.
"I'm unaware that any law has been violated," Winter said, her lips curling into a smile. "The captured White Fang operatives are severely ill. It is not so strange that a morally dubious terrorist group would distribute illegal substances among its members.
"Believe me, Miss Schnee and Mr Shade, we will perform tests on the captured White Fang to determine the specific substances that caused their sudden bout of illness. If the drug tests find nothing, then we will conclude that whatever it was has long been expelled from their systems. If so, it is unfortunate, but the case will have to be closed."
They would not find anything, of course. There was no drug. But in the eyes of the public, it would condemn the White Fang and elevate the Atlesian Military. But still, the alternative was even worse.
Nex could close his eyes on this one. Not as if the White Fang were his brothers and sisters.
Well, what did they say again?
The history books were written by the victors.
Or the ones with more ink.
Weiss frowned. As expected. "But they weren't—"
"Ahem," Nex said, nudging her hip. "What my partner means to say is that uh, we thank the Atlesian Military for their quick response and their acute grasp of the delicate situation. And we will promptly get out of your hair. Right, Weiss?"
What he really meant to say was, "I can't believe that my partner can't read between the lines. Her sister's practically giving her a free pass. I should probably do something to salvage the situation. Before she says something on record that will doom my steak. Quick, brain, give me something that sounds like what a politician would say to hide his underhanded dealings."
Weiss flushed. "Right. But sis—Specialist Schnee, what will you do with Silverstein? I believe he is complicit with the White Fang."
"Yep," Nex said. "What she said."
Winter glared at the boy on the carpet. "He will be tried according to legal procedures. I assure you, that whatever offence Silverstein has done, it will not go unpunished."
Good. Now for his free steak.
"We free to go?" Nex said, raising an eyebrow. "I believe Weiss promised me dinner."
Winter smirked, glancing at his partner.
Weiss swelled and reddened like a tomato.
"Hm. I believe she has. Have a good evening then," Winter said, shooting him a look. It was definitely pointed. Where pointed meant I'm going to do things to you if you fuck up. "But please. Do refrain from doing anything irresponsible."
"Sister!" Weiss said, grabbing his hand. Her nails dug into his palm. But his semblance failed to register it as a hazard to his personal health. The traitor. "Let's go, Nex. Let's leave Winter alone."
There she was, dragging him along the tiles.
By the hand.
It was... nice. Despite the lack of appropriate adjectives in his brain.
His partner was truly the gift that kept on giving.
Nex smiled, breezing past the vomit-stained walls of Atlas Primary. If not for the rancid stench, then it would have been the perfect graduation prank.
And then, they got a table.
"Who was that guy again?" Nex said, prodding the skewers of meat.
They found a quaint barbeque place near the school. It was empty, secured by the military due to their city-wide lockdown. White Fang attacks everywhere and all. But still, the civilian owners happily took their lien. Steak was preferable, but they were too hungry to even make it down a single block across the street.
They were both wearing ruffled uniforms of Atlas Primary. To the average civilian, they were probably just students enjoying a quiet meal after a long day at school. It was certainly a long day, but not for reasons a civilian would expect.
"Which guy?" Weiss said as she sunk into the sofa, the foam shifting under her weight. Their weapons were crossed on the rack behind them. "We did put a lot of terrorists in jail."
"That Silverstain guy, of course," Nex said, grinning at the way her ponytail fell on his shoulder. Flowers and baby blue. As well as a hint of what was probably vanilla. Strawberry was sweeter, but to each their own. "What's his deal?"
Now that there were no more important things over the horizon, he could finally ask the questions that his brain spat out.
Hard-on Silverstain was definitely a mystery.
Why would the racist allow the White Fang entry into the school just to get at his partner?
It reeked of stupidity. Paradoxical, even. But it was certainly a million-lien question.
"That's complicated and personal," Weiss said, smiling as she shot him a sideways glance. "But I believe you deserve to know."
Good. It was one less question out of the two thousand others filed away by his brain.
Nex transferred some more skewers from the serving plate to the built-in grill, waiting for his partner to explain.
"My father hasn't been subtle. He wants to find me a match for the SDC," Weiss said, her words quiet, almost a whisper. "Important men are quick to offer their sons when the head of the SDC is endorsing his daughter."
Endorsing. Like one might a product or a particularly juicy piece of meat.
Nex lifted one of the freshly grilled cuts to his mouth. The meat burst into a rush of spice and sugar.
Hard-on Silverstain was after Weiss Schnee.
He should have aimed a little more accurately with his shotgun. Or a lot more downwind.
"Endorsing?" Nex said, quirking an eyebrow. "What, he wants to sell a new type of dust?"
Weiss stared at the grill, a brittle smile on her lips. "That might be closer to the truth than you think. Marriage, Nex. He wants to marry me off before I can graduate."
Nex hummed, a pit forming in his stomach, which he filled with three more cuts of prime meat. "You're not interested then?"
"No, of course not. I want to become a full-fledged huntress," Weiss said. "I want to show the world that I'm more than just a name. Then I'm going to take the company from my father and repair what he's done to it."
Well, she certainly had her hands full. His partner had a purpose, a long-term goal. While he had nothing of the sort. Just planning to live life and all. But still, maybe he was close to coming up with it.
His reason for living.
Qrow fought for the ones he cared about while Weiss fought for her family's company. Now if only he could come up with something like that, it would be perfect.
"So, what are you planning to do about it?" Nex said. "You have a plan, right?"
Weiss sighed, leaning into him—close enough that her ponytail brushed his nose. "I'm going to enrol at Beacon Academy. But I don't think he's just going to let me go."
His partner's warmth seeped through his side. She was warm. So unbelievably warm. Certainly warm enough to overheat his brain.
"You think he's planning to do something?" Nex said, heat creeping around his neck. "He can't stop you from making your own choices."
Everyone had a choice. Crossing the street or taking a taxi was a choice. Eating croissants over bagels was a choice, but he admittedly always chose the latter. Doing something or not doing anything at all. It was a choice. Maybe one of the hardest ones to make.
"He has a test. If I pass, he'll allow me to go to Beacon," Weiss said. "Abandon his proposed marriages. If I don't..."
Nex nodded to show he understood how much of a control freak her father was. "You don't believe he's going to play fair."
Therein lay the crux of her issue. If her father designed something impossible to pass, something deliberately formulated to make Weiss fail, then there was no way she could go to Beacon.
"No," Weis said, exhaling a sigh. "I don't think he's going to play fair at all."
His hand snaked towards hers. They joined over the smooth, warm fabric of her skirted lap. The contact was electric, and natural, and it sent sparks racing through his spine. It was liquid resolve. The courage to voice out his thoughts.
"You can pass his stupid test, Weiss," Nex said, offering her a smile. "I mean, you're smart, talented, and skilled. You're responsible too. Very responsible. There's nothing you can't do if you put your mind into it."
Definitely more responsible than lazy old him.
Dub du—dub.
Her heart skipped a beat. A pop in his extra pair of ears.
Was she alright?
Weiss flushed scarlet, giggling into his collar. "You just know exactly what to say."
Evidently, she was.
"What's so funny?" Nex said, smiling. But his brain failed to understand why his partner was laughing at all. "Was it something I said?"
His partner thought he knew exactly what to say. It was debatable, but he did not have sufficient evidence to disprove her words. But the fact that something amused her spoke for itself.
"No, it's nothing," Weiss said. "What are your plans after graduation?"
Nex ran his thumb over the callouses on her hand. "I'm going to Beacon. My mom graduated from there. I want to do her legacy proud."
A lightbulb flashed in his head. Perfect. Eureka. One step closer to his reason for living.
Amariss had to have had a purpose beyond just surviving.
"Tell me about your mom," Weiss whispered. "If... if it's okay with you."
"Her name was Amariss Shade. Huntress and graduate from Beacon," Nex said. "She wasn't the most traditional mom, but she raised me well enough."
"I see. I promise I'll do whatever it takes to pass father's test," Weiss said, snatching both his hands. "I'd hate to leave my partner alone in Beacon."
Nex smiled, staring into the pale blue. "You think we're still going to be partners?"
"Nex," Weiss said, her grip tightening. Her fingers laced through his. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Chapter 12
Nexus Shade carried many titles.
He was a technician, a bartender, an underage hacker slash anonymous thief, but he was most certainly not a psychiatrist.
The blond guy retched into his drink. Thank whatever gods out there no undesirable projectiles came out of the scrawny teen's mouth. At least, not this time. Vomit Boy seemed to be the worst type of lightweight—the kind that experienced their first time during an existential moment of crisis.
"Wh—What am I going to do, Nex?" Jaune Arc slurred as if they were the best of pals, which they most definitely were not. "I'm—oh, gods!"
Nex patted Vomit Boy's back, nursing a cooler himself. When in Vale, do as the Valeans. When in Junior's club, do your best to blend in. There was no point in alienating the poor guy. Or causing a scene in The Club.
In fact, Jaune was pouting like a kicked puppy. A kicked puppy that repulsed every other guest within five feet, but a kicked puppy nonetheless. It was probably why he was sitting with the guy. Social security blanket and all. He could cope with the vomit. Years as a bartender did that to people.
"Shhh, it's okay. It's okay. We mess up sometimes," Nex said, rubbing the back of Vomit Boy's hoodie. "But we have to move on from the past in order to go to the future."
Nexus Shade was summoning bullshit out of nowhere, conjuring words straight from the Void. Move on from the past? Go to the future? No shit, Nex. Might as well give the drunk teenager a lesson on how the day progressed from morning to night.
"You reall—really think so?" Jaune said. "I can't possibly go back to my family."
Nex shrugged. Right. Because he could totally relate to that.
Jaune slumped into the counter, staring into his first pint of tap. "They'll hate me."
If he looked like Jaune in class, then it was no wonder his partner tried her best to get him to stay awake. Not that he liked being kicked into consciousness. Definitely not. But it was the thought that counted.
Said partner was still on a flight from Atlas to Vale. Atlas Primary provided its students with mass transport via armed airships, but Neo's teleportation was simply more efficient.
He simply told her to go ahead on the first batch of flights, waving it off as wanting some time to himself. She accepted it without much protest, bringing their robot dog with her.
The festival was only three days away.
He needed some way to kill time. Hanging out in a less-than-reputable establishment seemed like a good idea. It was practically his second home.
"I don't know about that," Nex said, humming. "Mind telling me exactly what you did wrong?"
Jaune hiccupped, bravely taking a minuscule sip of the amber liquid. "I ran away from home and faked my way into Beacon."
Nex nodded. It was pretty ballsy. Right up there with the White Fang incident. The one that made headlines days ago. But so far, there was nothing intrinsically wrong with what the drunk guy did. It was simply a matter of principle.
"Then what's the problem?" Nex said. "You succeeded, right?"
If any other person was here, the conversation would not have gone as smoothly as it did.
Weiss would have shrieked at Jaune's face, launching into a tirade about how irresponsible he was. Winter would have tried convincing Jaune to confess to his crime and go home. Qrow would have bought Jaune another pint of beer and called it a solution.
Truly, they were sterling paragons of virtue. And it certainly spoke a lot about him.
"Yes," Jaune said, spitting the word as if it were venom. "Then I realized that I don't know the first thing about fighting. I don't even have my aura unlocked."
Nex sputtered, waves of pink splashing his midnight-blue trench. "And here I thought the White Fang was stupid. Congrats, you just one-upped an entire terrorist cell."
"Gee, thanks," Jaune said, rolling his eyes. They lingered on his extra pair of ears. "I thought all faunus like the White Fang."
Nex shrugged. "Nope. Some of us don't have a death wish."
Jaune glanced at the two swords fastened to either side of his belt. "You're a huntsman, right?"
"Soon," Nex said. "I'm planning to enrol in Beacon as well."
"Teach me," Jaune said. "Teach me how to fight."
The blond looked like a corgi readying itself for a round in the ring. His skin was tinged red. The chest plate over the hoodie looked ridiculous, and his weapon seemed suspiciously similar to Hrunting and Vigilance. The only thing missing was a gun. Clipped to the blond's belt, the blade looked only a few inches shorter.
As expected, since Hrunting was engineered to be longer than the standard prescription. It was designed to outreach other arming swords, skewing the odds in his favour. A few inches could be the difference between life and death. His semblance deduced the scabbard turned into a shield as well. One probably the same size as Vigilance.
The sword and shield were timeless classics, ubiquitous weapons for those who had no prior combat experience.
But still, he took the art of sword and board even further, tinkering with it until the style became something recognizably his. He might have cannibalized a sabre, a katana, a greatsword, a halberd, a spear, a shotgun, and a damn cannon somewhere into it, but the foundations of his style began with the sword and shield. The basics Amariss taught him.
There was no denying he could wield his weapons with his eyes closed, obsessed as he was with perfecting the art, even dabbling in hand-to-hand at some point. But stabbing and blowing stuff up was more satisfying.
The only question was if Jaune could dedicate the effort to doing the same. Or if he had the time and patience.
Vomit Boy was staring at him, probably waiting for his answer. Or another round of forbidden projectiles. Both were equally possible.
"Say, if I do this," Nex said, his brain overcome by a budding migraine. What the hell—nothing to lose, right? "Will you go back to your family?"
"I'm going to go back after a school year or two," Jaune said. "I need to let them calm down first."
Clever.
Jaune emptied his mug. "Why are you so concerned about my family, anyway?"
Nex shrugged, offering the scrawny teen a smile. "Family's important. Don't take it for granted."
A cane thumped the counter.
"You sure know how to say it," Roman Torchwick said, smiling as he tipped his hat. "And Jaune. Good to see my forgeries are as great as ever."
"What?!" Jaune said, scrambling to his feet. "Don't say that so loud, people might hear."
Nex rolled his eyes, kissing the rim of his sweet, sweet, strawberry cooler. There fled the moment. Dead in a pit somewhere.
"Roman Torchwick", Nex said. "And here I thought I smelled bad mascara and hair dye."
Roman chuckled, taking the other stool beside him. "Have you looked around, kid? Half the patrons here don't give a damn. The other half are simply deaf to what's going on around Vale."
Thick bass and shrill synths smothered the air. The thief was right. No one here would give a damn even if he were planning to blow up the residential district. Not even if he screamed it out for the entire club to hear.
To his credit, Jaune did look around. But the fact that the scrawny teen only did so after someone told him branded him with a coat of green.
"Err... You're right, I guess," Jaune said, sitting back down. "Did you come here to talk?"
Roman looked at the scrawny teen as if he was stupid. Furrowed eyebrows and all. "And why would I even do that? We had a transaction. Done. Over. Now we can move on with our lives."
Jaune flushed and stared into his mug. He stood up, tossing a few cards of lien on the counter.
Vomit Boy mumbled a goodbye and slipped through the writhing bodies.
Yep.
Apparently, the guy was already experiencing a hangover.
"What did you come here for?" Nex said, shooting his fellow thief a look. "Your face is all over the city."
Not that he was worried about his fellow thief, but Roman Torchwick was coordinating raids on SDC-sponsored dust shops. The less he had to do with the operation, the better. If his partner found out he helped one Roman Torchwick steal from her company...
No use thinking about that rabbit hole. What was done was already done. He could only adapt in the best way he always did.
It was fortunate Roman never came looking for his help.
Until now.
"I need you to do something," Roman said. "A friend wants you to do something. She insisted."
By insisted, he meant someone was holding him by the balls. Not the first time the thief stepped over the wrong toes.
Torchwick could get out of this by himself.
"Nope. You stepped into trouble, dear Uncle Roman," Nex said, flicking his half-empty glass. "Get out of it yourself."
Roman scowled. "Dammit, Nex. This isn't one of your edgy jokes. We're all in this together—you, me and Neo. Help me out and I'll owe you a favour. I'll even double the hard light dust that you like so much."
Well, well. That sweetened the deal by a lot, even if the thief seemed a little too desperate.
It was a favour from Roman, a master criminal who had a foothold in all of the four kingdoms. It could serve as invaluable collateral should something bad happen in the future. The dust was nice, but it would not have been enough by itself.
His partner already shared some of hers with him, circumventing the need to go to the expensive consumer's market or bargain with notorious thieves. His supply of dust was already straight from the source. The coffers of the SDC, even.
"Lay it on me," Nex said, bobbing his head into a nod. The Nex trapped in the glass counter seemed to do the opposite, but it was probably due to the flashing lights. "Who's your friend and what does she have over you?"
Roman tapped the glass with a gloved finger. "She's a flaming bitch by the name of Cinder Fall. The woman's in on some sort of shadowy conspiracy, all cloak and dagger and shit. She's the one ordering me to collect all of the dust in Vale."
That made sense.
While the dust trade was lucrative, aggravating the SDC was not.
Roman had a limit on the amount of dust he could steal before he painted a target on his back. The next time the thief robbed a dust shop, it might end up a little more complicated. If Roman landed in a secure Atlesian prison somewhere, then even Neo would have trouble busting him out.
Gods forbid he needed to hack an Atlesian prison to effect Roman's escape. It would throw his anonymity to the wolves.
"That doesn't tell me why you're following her orders," Nex said. "What do you have to gain from this?"
Roman sighed, pinching his nose. "Nex. You of all people should know. For survivors like us, it's not about what we have to gain. It's about what we can't stand to lose."
Well, Roman Torchwick spoke nothing but the truth. People did things to survive. Things they did not necessarily have to be proud of.
If Cinder Fall was holding a knife against Roman's neck, then he was going to find some way to hold a sword over hers.
His brain filed her name away. Maybe he could look into her background sometime in the future.
"Alright. You've convinced me," Nex said. "What does Cinder want?"
Roman left The Club, undoubtedly satisfied.
Well, shit.
Cinder wanted a virus. A virus that could penetrate the very same code that he gave the good general.
Apparently, the woman's own hacker was stumped when the old-school backdoors were closed, and the system gutted and transformed into something foreign and new.
Roman mocked Cinder, boasting his payroll had the best hacker on Remnant.
Cinder called him out on it, threatening a painful death via immolation.
And so, here he was.
Torn between laughter and tears.
Between Scylla and Charybdis.
Fuckity fuck.
"Great..." Nex said, his wolf ears flattening. "Dear uncle and his big mouth..."
It would be easy enough to hack his own code. His semblance and powerful aura reserves made sure of that.
But he was going to give Cinder Fall the metaphorical keys to the kingdom.
Not without a little bit of inspiration from his brain then. It was like a gift. One that just kept on giving.
"Why the long face?" some woman said. "Bad breakup?"
The woman plopped down beside him, her blonde mane covering most of the stool.
Nex turned, shooting her a look.
Lilac eyes widened.
"Uncle Qrow? This isn't what you—" the woman said, her breath hitching. "You're not him. Sorry. You looked like someone I know. Bad lighting."
Great.
Now he could pretend to be a drunk birdbrain. It could technically fit, considering that he was drinking. In one of Vale's less than reputable establishments, even.
Nex shrugged. "You know, being mistaken for the drunk birdbrain is probably the least annoying thing that's happened to me today."
The woman laughed, waving at the swamped bartender. "Drunk birdbrain? I gotta remember that. The name's Yang. Yang Xiao-Long."
"Nexus Shade," he drawled. "It's short, sweet, rolls off the tongue. Ladies love it."
Jaune Arc, you son of a bitch.
Yang Xiao Long grinned. Like she was used to random guys talking to her in nightclubs. She probably was, judging from the number of eyes looking in her direction.
"Do they?" Yang said, smirking as she raised a challenging eyebrow. "I gotta see that, short stuff."
Nex shrugged. "Maybe. Calling me short stuff isn't really an insult. Size is a liability."
Yang glanced at his swords—the second blonde to do so today. "You're a huntsman then?"
"Trainee," Nex said. "You too?"
Her bracers were damning.
His semblance gleaned everything it could from a glance. They deployed into full-fledged shotgun gauntlets. Not bad, except they had the tendency to damage the user as well.
Yang nodded, raising an eyebrow. "Well, aren't you observant? I'm not used to guys staring at Ember Celica. They tend to look at other things, you know."
Other things?
What else was there to look at?
The blonde seemed to have no other weapons on her person, or else his semblance would have warned him about the possible threats. It was its job. Even if it rebelled from time to time. Case in point—whenever his partner nudged him awake in class. Or that one time her nails left gouges on his arm.
"Whatever. People are stupid," Nex said, rolling his eyes. "Being distracted by other things can be a death sentence."
Yang ordered a strawberry sunrise with one of those little umbrellas, grinning as she held it with expert hands. "I get it, edge lord. You're the broody, serious type. So, how exactly do you know my uncle?"
Edge lord.
Well, it was nothing new.
Roman and Mekel let that title slip from time to time.
More importantly, should he pop Yang's impression of her dear Uncle Qrow?
Nex shrugged. No point in doing it. "He's a regular at the bar I work in. It's Atlesian. You been in Atlas before?"
"Nope," Yang said. The expression was a little bit familiar. Odd. "Atlas is a bit too stuffy for me."
Nex nodded. "You said it."
The conversation dried up for a few minutes. Apparently, neither of them had anything life-changing to talk about.
Nex spent the time finishing off his cooler. He was about to get up and return to his cheap motel room, when Yang pushed a scroll towards him.
"You know who she is?" Yang said.
Some woman stared through the screen.
Black hair, red eyes, pale skin.
The woman looked like a Qrow with waist-length hair.
Nex shook his head, standing up and dropping some lien on the counter. "She looks like a Qrow."
He sighed, strolling away.
"But so do you..." Yang muttered behind him.
Seriously. Yang Xiao Long needed to get her eyes checked.
Maybe even get a pair of glasses.
Chapter 13
Weiss dragged a suitcase with her left hand, the square little thing rattling every time she took a step.
Students dressed in various colours swirled around them, the bullhead station of Patch filled to the brim. The swarm trickled, stepping on the dusty highway that led to Signal Academy.
The Atlesians were dressed in their signature grey. They shuffled along in a more or less straight line, flanked by Mistralians garbed in lively reds and greens. They bantered as loud as the colours of their uniforms. Certainly enough to flatten his extra pair of ears.
Those from Vacuo inserted themselves into the groups from Mistral and Atlas, their casual attires making them easy to spot. The Valeans from some sort of pharaoh academy walked ahead of the pack, dressed in brown uniforms with different accents.
Nex grinned, nudging Weiss' forearm. "Missed me?"
"Not even a little," Weiss said, flashing him a smile. "How did you get here before me?"
Nex shrugged, glancing around. Just to make sure they did not lose each other. He toned down his semblance, restricting its passive range to less than a foot.
It was buzzing because of all the weapons in the crowd—the one on the rocky sidewalk. Information overload was a bitch and a half.
Curse his semblance. Probably his brain too.
"I woke up early," Nex said, rolling his eyes.
Gods forbid. But it was true. Jaune Arc was surprisingly dedicated.
It was certainly a surprise to find out they stayed in the same motel. But all expectations were demolished when Vomit Boy knocked at four in the fucking morning, Crocea Mors in hand, begging for some well-deserved beat—ahem, training and aura.
It descended into a mindless routine for three days.
Train with Jaune in the entire morning. Explore Vale in the afternoon. Hang out in Junior's club in the evening. Yang even came back once or twice and shared some drinks. Jaune went along, embarking on a Vomit Boy adventure.
It turned out to be an almost fatal mistake. The two blondes had to be pried from each other when Jaune spilt a little nasty on Yang's hair. Fun times, but not something a sane man would recommend repeating.
Weiss gasped, grinning as she held her right hand over her chest—feigning a heart attack. "Who are you and what did you do with my partner?"
What happened to the woman who never even got a pun to save her life?
"I guess he's gone. Replaced by aliens," Nex said. "Where's our dog?"
Weiss stepped to the right, dodging a stray bicycle. The one probably abandoned on the road. Her bag almost crashed into another student.
She must have been unused to the open countryside. Her fancy-looking bag bounced up and down on its bulky wheels.
But still, it was almost as if he was back in his hometown. Amariss would be there. Waiting in their cosy hut. The only difference was the bright, sunny weather and the presence of sand instead of snow.
"The school didn't tell you?" Weiss said, drawing a deep breath. "Atlas Primary will be in charge of safeguarding the project of its chosen representatives. Atlas Primary will collaborate with the other combat schools and set up the auditorium and the central square in a way that maximizes the available space for the festival activities and the different presentations."
Nex nodded. Same old Weiss. It made sense, at least. Maybe he missed the email because his scroll was flooded with messages.
Mekel could be surprisingly overprotective of his employees. Where surprisingly equated to annoying. Seriously, he was an adult. Not a kid. He could take care of himself.
"Did you memorize that off an email or something?" Nex said.
And of course, the answer was painfully obvious. This woman was his partner. Not replaced by aliens or something.
"Or something," Weiss said, flushing as sweat trickled down her cheeks. Well, their uniforms were made for cold weather. "I paraphrased it."
Nex reached into his duffel bag, pulling out his umbrella. The very same one that almost beat up a drunk birdbrain. A shame it was only an almost.
"Here. I've got a trick."
His umbrella snapped open, casting a shadow over them.
Weiss scooted closer, her shoulder pressing against his.
Some of the other students stared at him with pointed eyes.
Hey, it was definitely not his fault they were unprepared for the island's heat. They should have brought enough tools, so that they were not caught off guard by any circumstance.
Weiss closed her eyes, smiling as her skin burned. Seriously, it was like she was turning into a tomato. It was really hot for her then. The cons of living a city life in Atlas.
"Thank you," Weiss whispered. "This is surprisingly gentlemanly of you."
"Surprisingly?" Nex said, quirking an eyebrow. "I'll have you know, this umbrella's been with me for ten years."
Since his mother's funeral, even. It could have been probably modified into a weapon, if not for the fact that a shield and umbrella combo seemed stupid.
Swords were definitely more practical.
Neo's parasol-fu was a rare exception. But then again, everything about the mute minx seemed to be a rare exception.
"It's good that you're prepared, then," Weiss said, nodding. "Preparation is something that our peers seem to lack."
True.
They seemed to be of one mind on that front.
Weiss glared at the more obvious students, their eyes zooming back to the road. "Some more than others."
She did not seem to notice that she herself was unprepared. Either that, or Weiss Schnee chose to ignore the tiny fact.
Point for double standards.
By the time they arrived at Signal, half of the other students looked ready to collapse.
The bullhead station to and from the city of Vale was almost an hour's walk on the highway. Plus, the overgrown forest that screamed monsters in the dark and the blazing, early-summer sun did little to help them stay on their feet.
Red eyes shifted between the leaves, and it was probably their sheer numbers that made the monsters hesitant to attack. Maybe that was the reason for this annual festival—flooding a place with enough trainees to scare off the weak but annoying Grimm.
The professors made them recall the house rules before they entered. Rules which were promptly shoved into a very dark place somewhere. Yep. That one.
Signal Academy.
Its marble spires reached for the clouds. Probably a signal that they were safe from the Grimm.
The academy's compound stood on the edge of the island. It was a long fall from the cliffside. And even then, it was doubtful anyone could survive the jagged spikes protruding from the clear waters.
"And so, ladies and gentlemen. Huntsmen and huntresses. We arrive at the much-awaited Sanus Festival," the headmaster said, standing at the middle of the courtyard. "Welcome to Signal Academy. While our expansive facilities are open to each and every one of you, I do hope that you brought tents and camping equipment. As we all know, preparedness is the sure mark of a good huntsman or huntress. Food will be served in the academy's mess hall, in an hour when our very own students are dismissed from their classes.
"Do not be absent. Do not miss this opportunity to foster the bonds between the four kingdoms. And most importantly, do not hesitate to feel at home."
Nex blinked, nudging his partner's arm. It was quite the long speech. "The headmaster and I seem to agree on something."
Blasting that other headmaster's stuff led to a stern lecture about school rules and property damage.
Debatable.
It was called disproportionate retribution. If the headmaster wanted someone to blame, then he should have blamed his son.
Oh, wait.
Hard-on Silverstain was rotting away in a cold, dark cell somewhere. With his White Fang buddies. No one could possibly blame the headmaster for choosing to vent.
"Did you bring what the headmaster mentioned?" Weiss said, looking like she was in the middle of a panic attack. "Please tell me you did. You are the type of guy to be prepared for anything, aren't you?"
He smiled, the other students cheering as they dispersed into what was practically a field of grass. Signal Academy looked like the homey sort of place. Not the cold, urban bunker that was Atlas Primary.
"I brought a big tent, sleeping bags, a portable dust stove," Nex said, dropping his camping bag on the dirt. It landed with a thud, kicking up a mushroom. "And probably some other stuff."
It was a testament to his packrat skills that every one of those fit with his acoustic guitar and his duds.
Weiss crouched, reaching for his bag.
"Wait. Let's find a nice tree first," Nex said. "Not a good idea to place a tent under direct sunlight."
Weiss arched her eyebrow, springing to her feet. "If you're sure."
Most of the other students were doing the same thing as his partner did.
Amateurs.
The heat would be unbearable after thirty minutes or so.
Nex stared at the tree in the secluded corner.
It looked comfy enough, its broad leaves casting shadows on the matty grass. And it did not look like as if something was in immediate danger of falling on their heads.
He squatted, plucking a strand of grass and taking a whiff. Bitter, with a hint of dried morning dew. Harmless.
A tall, three-story building stood right across them. Its open windows revealed a metric fuckton of students. Poor boys and girls sitting in bored, yawning little rows.
But still, the building would provide extra shade during the hours of the morning.
"Here should be fine," Nex said, smiling as his partner bent down and started rummaging through his bag. "You know, I can pitch the tent myself."
Weiss shook her head, her ponytail swaying in the breeze. "I can help. No, I want to help."
"Alright," Nex said. "So, you know how to pitch a tent?"
Weiss stiffened, halfway between pulling out a pole and putting it back in. "I must admit that I didn't deem it necessary to learn the skill."
Nex smiled, taking the pole. Their hands brushed—just like in the barbeque place. "Want me to teach you?"
If he was going to spare time to teach Jaune Arc the glorious art of sword and board, then he was going to teach Weiss how to pitch a tent. His partner was planning to become a serious huntress. Camping skills were a high necessity. Considering the urban jungle that was Atlas, it was understandable, even expected, that his partner was ignorant of such a skill.
But it was never too late to learn. If it was, then people would never change.
Half an hour later, Nex grinned at the dome-shaped roof, sighing as he buried his nose into the groundsheet, sucking at the grass through the smooth, waterproof fabric.
There was no other feeling like it in the world.
Nex flapped his arms, touching the tent's central pole. He poked the cute, dust-powered lamp attached to it.
Honestly, he could have closed his eyes and fallen asleep on his stomach, if not for the pair of black stockings looming over him.
"Thank you for taking the time to teach me," Weiss said, her hand parked on her trim waist. "But what exactly are you doing?"
Nex sighed, taking another long, deep breath. "Smelling the grass through the groundsheet. It's a cathartic activity."
Not that his partner would understand, since this was evidently her first time.
"Whatever you say, Nex," Weiss said, heaving a sigh. Right. "Classes were dismissed a few minutes ago. We should go to the mess hall."
Sad.
The groundsheet was glorious.
But still, he pushed himself to his feet.
"Oh, wow," Yang Xiao Long said in all of her blonde glory. When did she get here? "That's kinky."
"Yang!" the girl said in the shrill, hyper voice of the mascot on that cookie commercial. The one displayed on the giant billboards of Atlas. "I'm sorry, my sister doesn't really engage her brain."
Weiss. Yang. And a girl with red on her uniform.
Silver eyes blinked. They shimmered like mercury. Stars against the night sky.
"Excuse me?" Weiss said, her voice climbing. "Who are you and what are you doing inside our tent?"
The Weiss-bomb exploded, freezing everyone within a five-foot radius.
But it was definitely the silver-eyed stare freezing his limbs solid.
Shards of glass cracked somewhere, spiralling into nothingness.
Amariss. Qrow. Summer.
Nex rubbed his forehead, his eyes half-shut. He groaned, shaking the cobwebs away, even as his semblance screamed. Sweat stuck to his skin, the accursed heat urging him to collapse, sleep, and never wake up again.
"Hey, Nex," Yang said. "You alright there?"
Nex sighed, trying to plaster a smile on his chapped lips. And probably failing. "I'm fine. Just a bit... tired from all the walking."
"You know these misfits?" Weiss said, glaring at their definitely unannounced guests. "How could you just barge in like this?"
Yang smiled, her lips twitching. "Hey, we're not misfits. Sorry for not knocking, okay? I just wanted to check on my friend over there."
Nex tore his eyes away from the red-cloaked girl. The girl who looked so much like Summer.
Summer Rose.
Nex gestured at his partner, his hand trembling for a moment. "This is Weiss Schnee. My partner. Weiss, this is Yang Xiao Long and..."
Yang never missed a social cue. Not in The Club and certainly not in Signal.
"This is Ruby. Ruby Rose," Yang said, winding her arm around the quiet girl's shoulders. "She's my cute little sister. Say hi, sis."
"Hi," Ruby said, smiling as she waved at them. "Guys."
Weiss smoothed her features, managing to resemble a still winter. It was textbook political training in action. Admirable, if not for the narrowing of her eyes.
"While I'm sure that it's a pleasure to meet you and your sister," Weiss said, "the headmaster requires our presence in the mess hall. If you'll excuse us."
"That's great," Yang said, rolling her eyes. "We can take you there."
The blonde brawler offered no real avenues of escape. It was either come with them, or blow them off entirely.
Picking a fight with Yang simply because Weiss did not like the unfamiliar pair was stupid. Besides, Yang was his friend. Admittedly, a new friend. But a friend nonetheless.
The jury was still out on the silver-eyed girl who failed to say anything, and who brought back flashes of that night.
Ruby Rose.
Summer Rose.
Silver eyes.
But still, whoever her mother was, his personal woes were not the girl's fault.
"Weiss, they're students from Signal," Nex said, poking his partner's arm. "I'm sure they can show us around."
Practicality would win over her anger.
His partner snapped quickly, but she would cool as long as no real offence occurred. Surely she was intelligent enough to understand the value of what he was proposing.
Weiss frowned, shooting him a sideways glance. "If you're sure, Nex. My partner and I will follow your lead."
By follow, his partner meant exactly that.
Ruby and Yang walked ahead, the blonde brawler whispering something to the silver-eyed girl.
Other students passed them on the paved pathway, wasting their breath on pointless chatter.
His wolf ears flattened on his scalp, trying to limit the amount of stimuli entering his brain—the casualty of a freak migraine.
Weiss placed her hand on his arm. "Are you okay? You seemed disturbed when you saw them."
Disturbed was an understatement.
"I'm fine," Nex muttered. "Just a bit tired."
Where tired equated to being dead on his feet. Buried six feet under. While still alive and breathing.
Weiss frowned, her fingers squeezing his forearm. "Then let's eat. So we can freshen up and rest."
Yep. That idea was golden.
The sun dipped into the forest, casting the academy in darkness. Lights flickered between the shadows and the leaves and the trees.
Not the red eyes of Grimm, but fireflies on near-invisible twine lighting up the perimeter.
In Atlas Primary, it would have been lines of cold lampposts and surveillance cameras.
The mess hall stood before them—a torch-lit stadium. One big enough to store hundreds of students.
He wanted to ask their tour guides exactly why Signal Academy had a gigantic mess hall, easily bigger than the one at Atlas Primary. But it would have been the start of looking gift horses in the mouth.
A questionable habit.
One that led to paranoia and sleepless nights—more nights than usual.
Yang and Ruby joined them at their table, the blonde hogging most of the conversation.
Weiss nodded along and asked questions about Signal Academy. As expected of his partner.
Ruby entered the conversation once or twice, but only when someone asked her a direct question. Particularly the ones about herself.
"So, Nex," Yang said. "You never did tell us how good you are in a fight."
Nex shrugged, stabbing a slice of roasted beef. "Should I have?"
There was no point in telling them how good he was in a fight.
Talk was cheap.
His weapons spoke louder than he ever could, talking through monsters and people alike.
"Well. Ruby's really interested in your swords," Yang said. "She's kind of a weapons nut."
Ruby mumbled something into her bowl of stew, the spiced meats offering no reply. "Weapons are an expression of their owner. They could say stuff we can't."
"That's true. There's no substitute for a good weapon," Nex said, smiling as the silver-eyed girl seemed to sit a little straighter. "But I think books come to a close second. Right, Weiss?"
Yang blanched, but she ducked behind the piles of food on her plate. Almost managing to hide her expression, even. A good effort, considering that apparently no one else saw it.
Weiss nodded, smiling as she shot him a sideways glance. "I agree. A good book can take you places that you've never been before."
She seemed like she wanted to say something more, but she stopped, reconsidered, and promptly busied herself with her food.
Oh well, oh well.
Apparently, both of them were pretty quiet when it came to other people.
"I'll show you my swords later," Nex said, staring through her silver eyes. "You want to spar?"
Ruby smiled. A shy little thing. "Yep. I mean, nope. Sanus Festival has a tournament for pairs. Me and Yang want to enter. Sorry."
"Yep. We're so going to win this thing," Yang said, grinning as she planted her fist into her palm. "Nothing personal, Broody Face. But you and Weiss-cream can say goodbye to winning."
Weiss looked up from her dish.
No. Oh gods, no. Anything but this.
Yang managed to hit the one button that could make his partner do anything short of jumping off Atlas.
Nex wanted to mourn his plans of lying on the grass, closing his eyes, and dreaming of the clouds, but his partner would barely give him the chance.
Screw Yang.
If he was going to be dragged into this, then he might as well show up Qrow by trashing his cute little nieces in the tournament. He pushed the spike birdbrain's office alcohol supply with laxative scheme to the back of his brain.
Maybe next time.
Weiss nudged his calf with a hard shoe. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. Nex, we are also participating, aren't we?"
Nex smiled, his brain preparing a eulogy for his murdered shut-eye. "Do you really want to? I mean, we're already representing Atlas in the dust fair. Shouldn't we—"
"That wasn't a question, Mr Shade," Weiss said, flashing him a smile, even as her eyes sharpened. Poking holes into a certain blonde. "We're going to participate. And we're definitely going to win."
Nex sighed. Caught between sleep and this woman. His partner, even.
Troublesome.
Yang smirked and dragged her finger across her neck, whispering something about whips.