A/N: Hello, and welcome to my story, thank you for giving it a try! I was pondering what V5 would be like, and started thinking about Jaune and Oscar's interactions. Not long after, the basics of this story occurred to me. I'd like to thank Mantisbelle, whose story 'Nom De Guerre' is part of my inspiration for this. For Reading purposes, Italics indicate a flashback to Jaune's perspective prior to the story, and bracketed text are the thoughts of Oz, as Oswald hears them. Thank you again, and I hope you enjoy!
Auriga
"Jaune, do you hate me?"
"…No, I don't hate you Oscar. I hate Oz."
"But I am Oz. I'm the reason she's dead, I made her-
"No Oscar, you aren't. No, you didn't. Oz did those things. You are not Oz. I hate Oz with every fiber of my being; Oscar Pine is a kid two years younger than me that I met a month ago. Oscar Pine barely knows how to fight, or how aura works, or who the hell we are. Just because Oz is in your head, doesn't make you Oz. You are you, and never forget that.
"…Thank you, Jaune."
"What are friends for."
"So, we're friends then? That was a pretty good list of reasons to not be my friend."
"Oscar, that list described me a year ago, don't sweat it. And yeah, I say we're friends. We're stuck in this together."
It was just a kid, not even 16. But he matched the description, and the look in his eyes told him he was right. He made his way towards the deer stuck in headlights. "Is it telling you to run from me, or to trust me?"
"Wh-wh-who?"
He tapped his head knowingly, "The voice. I know about it, kid, I knew the last two to be in your situation. What's it telling you."
"He says he trusted you, that you were a friend. He says you killed him."
He nodded along to the answers, "Typical answer for it; nothing's a lie, but nothing's the whole truth. Do you want to hear someone else tell the story? A different side of things?"
The boy nodded.
"Well then, the name's Jaune Arc, pleasure to meet you. You are?"
"Oswald Piero…"
"Oswald, think of me as an friend. Your ally, not it's. Now let's go get a bite to eat, and I'll walk you through this mess. No bullshit, no grand callings, just what the hell is happening. Sound good?"
The kid chuckled "Sounds Great…"
"Jaune, can I get some advice?"
"Sure thing, Oscar, what is it? Fighting? Qrow? Dance moves?"
"Girls."
"… Oscar, I am not the right guy for that."
"I trust you, Jaune."
"Someone- someone very precious to me once told me 'You can't it wrong if it's the truth'. I regret never getting to tell her the truth. Oscar, I know it can be terrifying, but if there's someone out there, you need to give it a try. Worst that happens is you feel embarrassed."
"It's Ruby, Jaune"
"Worst that happens is Yang beats you into a pulp. Go for it."
"WHAT?!"
"Oscar, if you never try, how can you know what would happen? Ask her out, we have some time before the next big thing."
"He-"
"Oz can screw off, Oscar: this is your life, not his."
"There is an… entity, no good word, that calls itself 'Oz'. It is, at the heart, a collection of minds, an intelligence and aura without a body. It latches onto a person, and uses their body, their mind, as a host. That host is now you, Oswald. When the host dies, their original mind becomes part of that string of minds, moving to the next host. The last host was a friend of mine names Oscar Pine. When Oz is talking to you, it uses Oscar as it's voice, the face of Oz. Now, part of Oz is Oscar, but Oz is the one in control. Your little finger is part of you, but it doesn't call the shots, does it?"
The older man, dressed in a black jacket and jeans spoke of Oswald's insanity as if it were the same as the weather. And Oswald felt his fear melt away.
[He's dangerous, Oswald. He's very smart, and very resourceful, and very, very dangerous. He's killed us before, even if there wasn't real malice in the act. But he may be willing to help us again.]
"I knew the previous two hosts. Oscar and I were close, and I hated Ozpin with a passion. But really, I hated Oz; Oz had overcome Ozpin decades before we met. But this is what I'm offering, Oswald: I will train you to fight, I will be your bodyguard and advisor and mentor. Whether you want to or not, Oz will drag you into some serious stuff, events you can't help but want to be involved in. All the hosts are like that, they want to help. But I'm not helping Oz, I'm helping Oswald Piero."
This was proof, this man was proof that Oswald wasn't crazy. That was almost as bad as when he thought he was going mad! But Jaune Arc was saying things that fit: he knew Oscar's name, knew what Oscar was asking, and he explained Oscar better than Oscar did! He could still hear Oscar, telling him to be cautious, to not wholly trust Arc, but that fit perfectly with what Mr. Arc described.
[Still, I would take the offer, Oswald; few men alive could be better trainers as Mr. Arc. He trained me, for a time, and he was trained himself by one of the best of his generation.]
"When do we start, Mr. Arc?"
Oscar, or Oz, wanted him, but so did Oswald. If for no other reason, Mr. Arc didn't think he was crazy, and that was enough.
He laughed, "Jaune, just Jaune, please. Or 'Sir', if you really must. And we start when you can. I'm not calling the shots here, Oswald. Neither is Oz. You are."
"We start tomorrow, then. Oz says we need to go to Menagerie, to see the Headmaster of Aegis Academy."
The older man smiled, "Haven't been to Aegis in ages, looking forward to it."
"Jaune, that was terrible."
"Ha, I know." He was fiddling with one of the tassels on his sash, looking off to the distance. "Combat training at the end of the day, or as soon as we can. You have years to make up in months. Thankfully, I know just the routine for that."
"I never thought I would miss loneliness."
Jaune turned to look at his friend, utterly confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, we all think being alone is terrible, that's why we make friends. Why we live with other people. But I can never be alone, not with Oz in my head. I never realized how horrible the idea of always having someone there would be until it was my life."
Jaune didn't really know what to say, but he'd never let that stop him before.
"Can you tune him out?"
"I've tried ignoring him, it doesn't work."
"And I tried ignoring Prof. Port, that didn't work either. Don't ignore him, tune him out. It isn't that Oz is gone, its that Oz isn't loud enough, or isn't the thing your listening to. Sing a sing in your head, or something."
Oscar mulled that over, "Any recommendations?"
"Well, I can never get 'Shine' out of my head once it gets going, not since when I was at Beacon."
"I've never heard that one, Jaune. Hum a few for me?"
"I'll do one better, gimme a sec." Jaune headed back to his room, to get an old gift he didn't use enough.
Oswald was lying on his back, sucking in air and trying to not think about how badly his everything hurt. Or how it was going to get worse. Jaune had put him through hell this past month, as they moved from Atlas to Menagerie. Oz dumped information on Oswald all day, and then Jaune would clean the floor with him in combat sparring, then make him work on meditation or some crap. Meditation was hard because Oz usually felt the need to talk then. But tuning Oz out was a skill he was starting to get a hang of: mostly, he used it so Oz wouldn't tell him things about Jaune he didn't want to know yet. Jaune would tell him about that sash when Jaune was ready, he didn't want Oz spoiling it. But here came his mentor, carrying his green Doom in a mason jar.
"Drink up!" the man downed his own glass of concentrated disgusting with what had to be a fake smile. It smelled like death and tasted worse, but every session ended with a glass of this crap and a conversation about whatever Jaune thought of.
[Personally, I loved those drinks, though it wasn't Mr. Arc who prepared them. The health shakes were always from-] Oswald tuned out Oz as Jaune spoke up.
"Hobbies." The warrior said plainly, "What do you do with your spare time, Oswald? You spend a lot of time looking at the guts of your cane, bit of a weapons nut?" His hand would go to the red tassel, Oswald knew. Weapons always went to red. Yellow was jokes, green was cooking, unless it was breakfast then it went to pink. White for music, or politics, and black for literature. When the weren't training, there was never a moment Jaune wasn't playing with a tassel. Oz wanted to explain it, but he had told Oz he didn't want to hear. The entity never talked about the red tassel, though.
"More of a tinkerer; I like to know how things work. The cane is basically the only thing we have with interesting parts. Besides the train, and I don't think disassembly would be approved."
"Most likely not, we have to preserve our Training Space anyway."
"Still awful"
"I know. So, tinkering? That's good, keep that up; maybe try and pick up a new thing or two as well. Training is important, but you need time to be you."
"What about you, Jaune? What do you do for you? I don't think I've seen you do anything relaxing."
"Well, that's because we haven't exactly been able to stop at any dance clubs along the way."
"You dance, Jaune?" Jaune cutting loose seemed ridiculous; the man was either determined enough to out-wait time, or what Oswald had assumed was maudlin, he was too young to be sure.
"And play guitar! But as my luck would have it, my guitar was a casualty about a week before we met. Being on the move means I haven't bothered with a replacement yet." Hand on white, the whole time, a death's grip more than the usual toying.
"Something for you is important, Oswald. Helps you stay you: Oscar gardened. He grew up a farmer, and would prune the bushes at campsites if he had nothing to do!"
"…He's bitter about it, you know. He didn't want to die."
"…Oz is bitter. Oz is always bitter. I did what I did because Oscar asked me to, Oscar made me swear to do that. That Oz doesn't mention it only proves my point; it isn't my friend Oscar talking to you, it is Oz."
"I wish he wouldn't talk…"
"A burden and a blessing, Oswald. Oz will use us, but it's intentions are good at heart. The safety of the world is a good goal, so we use it in turn."
"It just doesn't care about the cost?"
"It cares, but it sees the cost as low enough. And Oz isn't necessarily wrong, but Oz can't understand."
"Understand the price of life." Jaune's hand moved to green at that.
"So, you do listen to him occasionally? That's how Oscar would explain it. When you can't really die, how can you truly value life? Oz doesn't really understand anymore, but it knows the concept of life is valuable. Valuable enough to spend eternity protecting the total."
"…Oscar asked you to kill him?"
"He was a good friend, and he asked me to kill him if he stopped being 'Oscar' and became just 'Oz'. One day, that happened, and an Arc never goes back on his word."
"Promise me the same, Jaune."
"If you ever change your mind Oswald, just tell me. That isn't something I enjoy, and I think you're too young to be asking that."
[Oswald, not a day goes by since my death where I don't regret that promise. Please, reconsider that request. Jaune does mean it, he will kill you if he thinks you've been superseded. We can't afford the delays another death would cause. She is beginning to stir again.]
"Jaune, I want you to promise me: if it ever stops being me talking, if all it is is Oz, I want you to kill him."
"…Alright, Oscar."
"Thank you. I won't be able to say it then, so I'll say it now: Thank you for saving me."
"You wanted to see me, Oz?"
"Yes, Headmaster, I wanted to speak to you about the wastes. Simply, I believe that the enemy has begun to maneuver again."
Aegis Academy was a tower, a single battlement along the foundations of Kua Kuana's budding walls. The one window of his room looked out into the wastes of Menagerie, and Oswald's host joined him in looking out over those deserts.
"I have some people I can send to scout, if you'd like. And you are in command here: Mr. Wukong, or Sun, works fine."
"Volunteers, please, I don't want anyone ordered into danger like that."
The Headmaster laughed lightly, "Jaune really made a mark on you, huh? Oz, part of being a Huntsman is agreeing to take certain risks. When our enemy is involved, it's Grimm, and no huntsman would back down because there may be Grimm. I'll ask, and every one of them will agree, and wonder why I bothered asking."
"Still, I'd prefer if you ask." This may have been from Jaune, but it was now his. Oz wouldn't have bothered with the distinctions of requests and orders.
[She's been quiet since that first burst of activity. Quiet is never good, Oswald. We need to know what she's planning. Her being in Menagerie is an advantage we can't waste, even if it is a greater risk.]
"Speaking of my mentor, have you seen Jaune? We haven't spoken in a month."
The older man hesitated. "It's… an anniversary of his, Oz. Well, several in a row. He went quiet for a while five years ago as well. He'll resurface in a few days, I'll keep an eye out myself."
"Jaune has never talked about it, not once in three years. I assume it has to do with his sash?"
"You don't know?"
"I won't let Oz tell me this; it would feel like betraying Jaune."
The man seemed more dour than he could ever remember. "Jaune and I, we lost a lot of friends last time. Jaune lost more than me, in a way. He doesn't talk about it to anyone, not since it happened."
[He talked to me.]
"When you hear word of Jaune, let me bring him in."
"Will do, sir." Sun Wukong, Huntsman, Headmaster and war hero, saluted the 19-year-old kid and walked out of the room.
Jaune didn't care the room was a mess, didn't care that Oscar was looking at him with pity and disgust. He needed to forget about this month, victory be damned. It wasn't worth it to him.
"Jaune."
"Jaune, you need to get hold of yourself. I understand your pain, bu-"
"YOU don't, Oscar. And I ain't gonna talk to OZ about this!"
Silence reigned
"Jaune, I'm your friend, talk to me. Let me help you."
"…You shouldn't be. My friend. My friends only die; hell, you want me to kill you one day! Pyrrha's gone because I was too weak, Ren and Nora are gone because I wasn't smart enough to see that ambush, and now Weiss is gone because I thought it was safe.
"Four people, better in every way, Oscar, dead because they decided to trust me. ME! A lying cheat with blood on his hands."
"They trusted their friend, a man who had saved their lives before, who they went into battle with willingly, don't take their choice from them, Jaune."
Oscar was right, the prick. But he didn't want to deal with this right now. He'd face it in the morning.
"Leave me in my grief, Oscar. I'll straighten out tomorrow."
As his friend left, Jaune went back to drinking, humming that tune Pyrrha loved.
"You're sure this plan will work?"
[No, but it is the best plan we have. I'd prefer a quiet fight, but the horde is a legitimate reason for a large-scale assault. That the best teams will be fighting something more than Alpha Grimm isn't something that may get out. Mr. Wukong and Mr. Arc both believe it is a sound plan, and they've quite literally done this before.]
"What happens if we win? Is there a way to stop her for good?"
[Salem is a creature like myself, sadly. Her works take longer, and unlike myself she relies heavily on the power of her host. We can never truly end this, but removing her so frequently will hinder her greatly. When she first fell twelve years ago, the Grimm population plummeted, more land was recovered in a year than had been in the previous century. Even if this plan could only bring a victory half so beneficial, we should take it.]
"Jaune, will you lead the strike team? You've fought Salem before, even if briefly, and that's more than anyone else."
Jaune did not hesitate, hands staying on his weapon. "Will do, I'll try and put a team together, as well. A few old hands are still around, but the younger generation will need experience and I don't want greenhorns all alone."
"Thank you. Ms. Adel, will you head up the main force?"
The woman seemed surprise; "What about you, Oz?"
"I intend to be on the strike, obviously. I may be weaker than most of this council physically, but Jaune is a distant second to my knowledge of Salem."
The entire group seemed unnerved at the prospect of him fighting Salem personally.
[Oswald, the risk is too high. The general must remain in the rear, despite desire for glory. Our knowledge can be given to the team, but our combat skills will only slow them down. And I can assure you, we will be targeted.]
Oswald didn't want to hide behind his followers, he didn't want to be Oz or Salem. He was Oswald Piero, Huntsman. And Huntsmen did not flinch from danger.
"Oswald, I will not take you on the strike."
It was as if Jaune had put on a dress and punched him in the mouth. He couldn't even think a response.
"For once, I'm probably agreeing with Oz. I have no problem with you leading the main force, or even serving in it under Coco. Grimm are a risk we can handle. But coming on the strike is too much of a risk, both to the team and to yourself."
"Jaune-"
"I know, better than anyone here, what a weak link will do to a team, Oswald."
A dozen huntsmen and huntresses, veterans of hundreds of battles and a decade of strife, flinched away from Jaune's words.
"… Ms. Adel, you will lead the main force, I will serve in an advisory role. My knowledge is in essence theoretical, yours is practical. I did not make these battle plans alone, after all."
"Yes, sir."
Jaune walked up to his friend. His broken, weeping friend.
He held the hood so tight, Jaune couldn't help but reach for the sash.
"Does it ever stop hurting, Jaune?"
"No."
He sat beside his friend. Not an immortal, but a young man whose world would never be as bright.
[I know it hurts, Oswald. I know this feels like the worst moment of your life-]
"That was when you showed up."
[The victory in my lifetime cost me many friends, and nearly even more. Sun Wukong was a good man, he was a paragon of what it means to be a Huntsman. He would not regret his death, he did not flinch from his duties.]
"That doesn't make it better. He's dead because of me."
"He's dead because a Goliath impaled him, Oswald. Are you secretly a Grimm?" Oswald turned to the familiar voice. Jaune, holding a bottle in his hand.
"Jaune, you're drunk."
"I always get drunk after our 'victories', Oswald. Don't think I'll let you join me, though. Smart enough to know that would be dumb."
Oswald couldn't deal with this right now, he needed to be alone. But he never could, could he? Even if he ignored Oz, it was still there.
"They're my friends. The tassels."
Oswald froze, he slowly turned to Jaune.
"Seven friends. Six tassels and a sash. All seven dead because I wasn't good enough. Won't let myself forget them. The weakest one, and I'm the only one left."
[Mr. Arc was no more responsible for their deaths than you are for Mr. Wukong's, Oswald. He blames himself needlessly. None of them would want this of him.]
"…It says they wouldn't approve of you blaming yourself."
"Well, I can let them down one more time. Always was the fuckup of the group, sure they understand. You ain't a fuckup, Oswald. Oz's probably preening at this win. Hold us over for years."
"Does- Does is ever stop hurting, Jaune?"
Jaune, his mentor and friend for years, looked at him with sad, tired eyes.
"Nope."
"Oscar, are you sure about this?" He sure as hell wasn't.
"Positive, Jaune. This will be the best move to keep them down. Well, the best move that the entire world won't notice."
"I still can't believe you got Sun to agree to this. He's been trying to keep Aegis on the sidelines, at least until it has more reputation."
"Mr. Wukong was happy to oblige" Oscar seemed distant, listening with barely half an ear. His tone wasn't right, either.
"Oscar…"
No response.
"Oscar? Oscar?!"
His friend kept studying the plans for the new operations in Menagerie.
"Oz."
"Hmm?" Oz looked up at him.
Jaune didn't know what to do. No, that was a lie. He knew. He just wished it would never happen. Prayed every night it would never have to happen. But really, what would a little more pain be? He could carry this load.
"I made a promise to a friend once, Oz. A promise I never wanted to keep."
He drew Crocea Mors.
The reports from agents in Vale point to unusual movement in the Emerald Forest, it's our best lead. There's always a brief disturbance in Grimm activity when she arrives. A morale boost, almost, only long enough for her to seclude herself. The Grimm there have been too successful, too resilient. The Alpha count it high as well: could she be making them?
Oswald was sat at his desk, idly twirling his cane, running over plans in his head. It had taken years, but the Grimm were showing signs that Salem was on the move.
But why Vale? It's been nearly twenty years since the Attack on Beacon; the academy and kingdom are recovered enough. Menagerie made sense, knock off a growing power before it matured, but Vale is no longer a limping dog in the world.
A chair being dragged across his office drew Oswald from his contemplation. Jaune was here.
"Time to meditate, Oswald. And no communing either, you know the rules.
"I'm far too busy, Jaune. The Vale reports indicate Salem has moved into the Emerald Forest, we sh-"
"Salem will be there in two hours, Oswald. Time to meditate." Jaune was already assuming the pose, the chair that used to sit before the desk against the wall.
"Time for meditation will be there in two hours, as well, Jaune. Cutting off a train of thought so abruptly is terrible for the next session."
"Take time for you, Oswald. Take time for you."
"And I should use that for those stupid meditations? Jaune, we know my semblance, my aura is perfectly fine, I do not need to keep up these exercises."
"Neither do I, but I still do them every day. They're not just for training the soul, they're for healing it. Now come on, take some time and zen out."
"Still terrible, Jaune." His sash was between his hands, Yang's Tassel idly flicking left and right.
"That's the point. Sit. Breathe. Stop thinking."
Oswald pulled himself out of his chair. There was no arguing with Jaune when he was like this. Ren was a sticking point, he knew. They all were, and his friends covered a damnably large range of points. He took the pose Jaune had taught him so many years ago, trying to find a quiet that would not come.
"Fuck."
Oz was dead. He'd killed Oz. That should have felt good; Oz was the reason Jaune has lost so many friends.
But Oz just had to be wearing a friend's face, didn't he?
It had been obvious months ago, but he didn't want to see it. Didn't question why Oscar was drinking coffee and not tea in the mornings, why Oscar was using 'Mister' and 'Miss' for people who'd known him personally for years, why Oscar wasn't keeping up Ruby's rose garden. Answering to Oz and not his own name meant he couldn't lie to himself any more.
In a few months, though, Oz would be doing it again. Pulling some helpless civilian into this shit, slowly breaking the person down and reassembling the amalgamation that called itself 'Oz'.
Well that's an idea.
But first things first, he had to explain to Sun and this new inner circle why he just stabbed Oz in the chest.
Jaune hadn't wanted to see, not really, but he doubted anyone else would ever be as blind as himself.
"Miss Zedong will lead the scouting mission."
"Thought May was on sabbatical, Oswald?"
"She will come back for this mission, she understands the importance of what we do, even if she is not wholly a part of our group."
Miss Zedong was quickly becoming an asset, despite her growing age. Partnering her with the Winter Maiden for this would be a useful way to test the waters for a more secure membership. Mr. Wukong had never properly been replaced, sadly. His corps of advisers had remained ten after the Menagerie Expedition. Ms. Wukong would be graduating soon, and both her parents had been deeply involved, perhaps she could begin her own initiation?
"Oz…"
"Hmm? Yes, Jaune?"
"I made a promise to a friend. Nearly eleven years ago. An Arc never breaks his word."
Crocea Mors was swinging by the last word, and Oz reacted on centuries of instinct and years of muscle memory, dodging the blow. He could not afford the time lost to reacclimating a new host, Salem was just beginning to operate again! He lashed out with his cane, relying on the strength of youth to best Jaune's experience. They traded blows quickly, silently, but Oz was growing tired of the fight; he struck out with his semblance, the stones beneath Jaune flowing up his legs. Jaune was melded into the floor below the knee, unable to move.
"Jaune I do not have time for this, we have to plan!"
"Wouldn't that be 'Mr. Arc', Oz? You usually don't bother with informalities." The rage in his eyes was bright, one hand ready to strike with his blade, the other drawing his sash from his shoulder.
"I am fond of you, Jaune. We've known each other for twenty-five years-"
"Oswald Piero was a child twenty-five years ago."
"But if you continue this ridiculous fight, you'll leave me no choice. Stand down. This is not our fight, Salem is out there! The creature that took your friends is out there!" He pointed his cane at the sash, Jaune's one treasured possession.
"The creature that took them from me is wearing a friend's face again. You wouldn't understand, Oz. You can't understand."
"Understand the value of life? I disagree."
"Understand the value of a life, Oz. You play a numbers game, but not all of us can do that all the time. So how about we put an end to this? Go add one more tic to the list, Oz. I have some friends to finally see again."
"I will not kill you in cold blood, Mr. Arc, that is not my way." He released the blond man from the floor.
Arc lunged.
And another tic was added.
So if Miss Wukong, Miss Zedong, and the Winter Maiden will be part of the scouting, should we find a fourth? Teams of four is tradition among Huntsmen.