Mom always hated this place. Her son had never understood why.
It was everything a memorial should be. The statue loomed overhead, almost twenty feet in height. Holo-lights, like pillars of glowing, translucent granite, formed a ring around the monument, their white glow serving to banish the creeping darkness of the surrounding night sky, and to deepen the shadows on the statue's face. From the thin line between his lips to the angle of his brow to the glint of steel in his eye, everything about him radiated grim determination, a stoic tenacity that could whether even the most brutal of storms. He stood with his feet shoulder's width apart, his near mythic blade housed in his equally famed shield, which lay between his legs, point planted firmly in the ground. Two strong hands gripped the pommel of the sword. The craftsmanship that had gone into this was truly breathtaking, and every lien the Schnee Dust Company had poured into it was on the stone. From the detailed muscles of his fingers, which it was said could bend steel, to the expert curve of his broad shoulders, which some said once lifted a mountain. This was the kind of man who could battle wave after wave of Grimm, lead men fearlessly into battle, and inspire the sort of legends children would learn by heart and reenact with friends.
This was the sort of man he called Father.
But he was the only one who called him that. He looked down at the plaque that lay at the bottom of the statue.
In loving memory: Father, Husband
Friend, Leader,
Hero.
Jaune Arc
"Hi Michael." The voice was high and clear, like birdsong in the morning. Only a slight deepening over the years betrayed her true age.
The boy started, his ruminations so deep even his highly tuned senses hadn't detected her. His voice was shaky and unsure. Familiarly so.
"Hi Ruby."
Ms. Rose smiled as the boy returned to his thoughts. Truthfully she'd been standing behind him for some time, just watching. Michael Arc chose to wear simple, loose-fitting clothing. Boots, cargo pants, and a relaxed t-shirt suited him just fine. He neglected the armor his peers wore, aside from some simple yellow forearm bracers he'd received as a gift from Aunt Yang a long time ago. Besides, he shared both his father's extraordinary Aura and his mother's prodigal fighting skill, so really any sort of armor was just extra baggage. Despite all those differences though, despite the gap in training and experience between Michael Arc and his father when he'd been at his age, Ruby couldn't help but feel like she'd traveled back in time as she watched this red-headed teenage boy standing indecisively in front of what looked like, for all the world, a mirror-image of himself, with just his own thoughts and the ever faithful Crocea Mors at his side.
She stood by him, her dress catching in the slight breeze. It was a more streamlined, less frilly version of what she had worn back when she'd first met Jaune. Red with black trim, rather than black with red. But other than a slightly increased height, a slightly increased hair length, and a far greater increased number of birthdays than she'd like to admit, the years had been lenient on her. At least outwardly.
She looked up at the statue of her old friend, saying nothing. If there was one thing Blake had taught her, it was that silence was perhaps the most efficient of interrogation methods. So she waited, allowing the pause to grow. Of course, Blake had used silence to make others feel uncomfortable, and Weiss had used it to express annoyance. Ruby used it simply because there was nothing to be said. The empty air between them was comfortably quiet, not awkward. He would tell her what was wrong. Eventually.
"Mom always hated this place."
And there it was. Ruby glanced at the young lad as he sheepishly nodded, conveying his loss at their unspoken contest.
"It's just…I dunno…"
"Nope."
Michael looked at her in surprise. Not at her reply, but at her own response to her own reply. Michael's talent with Aura and sensing its constant shifts in others was truly remarkable, almost like telepathy. And right now, as she said that single word, he sensed something stir within her. Grief? Loneliness? No.
Nostalgia.
"Michael," said Ruby, staring directly at her young pupil, using a voice that while not a commanding one, was certainly very close. He forgot about whatever that feeling was immediately.
"You know a lot more than you think. Just say what you feel is right." Her tone was softer, like what Yang had used to reprimand her when she was a kid.
"I guess…" continued Michael, "It's regret. I think that's what I'm sensing."
Ruby stayed quiet as Michael finished the thought he didn't even know he had.
"Every year she comes back here and every year I can sense it. And I think it's regret. Regret for his death. Regret for her failings. Regret for everything she couldn't do. And sometimes she looks at me and I think she feels the same things."
Ruby looked at this boy, this child who felt alone and scared, even when surrounded by friends and family. If he had been paying attention he would've felt that same feeling from her as he had before. She moved to place her hand on his shoulder.
He shrugged it off.
"And honestly I don't blame her!" His sudden outburst was both surprising and hauntingly reminiscent. "I'm not him. I don't think I could ever be him! But sometimes she looks at me and I just know that all she can see is him. And I know I've let people down, I know I've gotten people hurt, but I just can't-"
He stopped suddenly as something slapped him on the back of the head. Hard. And it certainly wasn't Aura.
He shut up, his face heating up like a coal in a furnace. He looked up again. The face remained, as impassive and insouciant as the marble it was carved from.
Something was shoved in front of him. He looked down to see Ruby's personal Scroll open and displaying what looked like a picture.
"This was taken the night of our first inter-semester dance. It has all of us together, both my team and your father's. Weiss insisted we take one for record-keeping. Yang thought it'd be fun."
Ruby passed the scroll to her protégé. She watched the boy's face intently. She really wanted to see this.
"Umm… is he behind the guy in the dress?"
"Michael. Jaune is the guy in the dress."
Ruby really wished that that scroll was in her hands right now. Because at this moment she would've given anything to be able to record what was happening on Michael's face. His features were twisting and contorting from an almost painful mix of, at first, utter bewilderment, soon followed by gushing laughter contained with such force Michael was certain one his lungs was gonna collapse. Although his respiratory system remained intact, his futile attempt at controlling his merriment did not.
Throughout Beacon campus rang the sound of unrestrained laughter.
Ruby really should've been more concerned with keeping the rest of the student body from angrily being awoken on a school night, but at the moment she was too busy guiding the son of her oldest friend to one of the nearby benches before he collapsed from glee. When he was done laughing he passed the Scroll back to Ruby.
"He lost a bet," Ruby explained. Michael had heard tale after tale of his father, from all manner of sources, both personal and scholastic. But he'd never heard this story.
"He foolishly believed that your mother was out of his league. He thought that the boys must've been clamoring over each other just to ask her out. So he wagered that if she couldn't get a date to the dance he'd wear a dress. Well, the day of the dance came and she had no one. She was, and frankly still is, far too terrifying. He found out. And in less than five minutes he was on the dance floor in a gown. To this day, no one knows where he got the dress."
Michael just sat there, trying with all his might to process this information. Eventually he came out of it.
"Wait, he danced?!"
Rather than explain some more, Ruby decided to just show him.
Baby! It's time to make up your miiiiiiiiiiiinnndd!
As the unforgettable music of that irreplaceable night drifted out from the Scroll's speakers, Michael sat entranced at the sight of Team JNPR, led by the great and mighty Jaune Arc, his father, tearing it up on the floor. Ruby was entranced as well, though by something else at the moment.
When it was over Michael was speechless. Truly and utterly speechless. So Ruby decided it was her turn to talk.
"Michael, when I first met your father he was puking his guts out on the airship to Beacon. He actually got a little on Yang's shoe. I accidentally kept calling him Vomit Boy for a week!"
It went on like that for several more hours. Ruby regaled little Michael with story after story of his father and their days together at Beacon Academy. How during Initiation he didn't even know what a landing strategy was. How he'd mistaken a Deathstalker for an ancient relic and ended up getting thrown fifty feet in the air by it. How Yang mistook his panicked shout as the terrified screams of a damsel in distress. How he once ate Nora's candy by mistake and almost got both of his legs broken. How he lost fight after fight against Cardin Winchester, only to finally give the bully his comeuppance in the forest of Forever Falls. She told him of how he'd lied and snuck his way into Beacon. She told him how he didn't care if he got expelled if it meant protecting his teammates. How he once got into a fight with a vending machine… and lost. How he stood up for every bullied student, human or Faunus, even though he couldn't win a single fight. How he had to train with Pyrrha every night, even weekends and holidays, just to keep up in Combat Courses. How Coco once made a casual, off-hand remark about Faunus that hurt Velvet's feelings, and Jaune had stood up to the frightening fashionista for someone who wasn't even on the same team as him. How he once accidentally kissed Ren (an embarrassing episode which Jaune and Ren forced Ruby to forget ever happened). How, after Cardin's dad died, Jaune was the only one outside of CRDL who reached out to him, turning an old enemy into one of his most steadfast friends. She told him how tough it was for him when his best friend lost his ability to speak. She told him how Nora just shut down, so Jaune and Pyrrha got together to do both her homework and her class project for her. She told him how determined he was to make everyone in RWBY, JNPR, CRDL, CFVY, and pretty much half the school, including many of the teachers and staff, take night courses on top of their regular workload until everyone knew enough Sign Language to talk with Ren again.
"So wait," asked Michael in perfect Sign Language. "My dad's the reason Beacon offers courses on Sign Language?"
"Yup," Ruby signed back.
"Huh."
And of course she spoke endlessly of the night with the dress of mysterious, indeterminate origins.
She spoke of this and what felt like a million other stories. And when it was over she moved on to the last story of the night.
"When your dad died, Pyrrha didn't know how to take it." Ruby spoke in a quieter voice than normal. The sky was beginning to brighten, and both of them were starting to tire.
"Your mother had spent her entire life training to fight and, if need be, make the ultimate sacrifice. But she just wasn't ready for someone to make that sacrifice for her. For a while she just lay in bed. She'd eat when she was hungry, sleep when she was tired, and if she had enough energy left in her, she'd cry. At first I thought if we left her alone she'd rally by herself. Stupid really." Ruby's eyes dipped down. "Looking back on it, I think I just didn't want to face it. To face her."
Ruby looked up as a warm hand gripped her shoulder. He smiled in reassurance, and she smiled in thanks before continuing.
"But when she finally came out of it, she didn't do it in the way I expected. She started going on missions. But not like she used to. She started taking missions that were way riskier, sometimes going solo on jobs that required at least a full team. She'd go out, get the job done, and come back, usually wounded. But as soon as she was physically fit for duty again she'd take another mission and be on her way. Soon she wasn't even waiting for permission. She'd come back to Beacon looking like she'd just jumped through a paper shredder, but then she'd pick out another mission and be gone before anyone could stop her. It got so bad I had to order her to stop, and when she wouldn't listen to me I had to order her restrained! But of course, not even that deterred her. The Brig just couldn't hold her. She'd break out eventually and then it'd be back to the usual for her. Occasionally she'd show up to drop off a criminal she'd captured, but that was it.
Maybe she wanted a distraction. Maybe the pain of battle blocked out the pain of loss. Maybe she couldn't stand to be around so much grief anymore. Maybe she just wanted to be alone. Or maybe she wanted to die. I don't know. To this day we haven't discussed it again, and honestly I'm not sure if I should be the one to ask her.
Then one day she stumbled onto campus grounds. She had cuts and bruises all over, several fractured ribs, a dislocated arm, and a broken leg. Her foot was almost sliced off at the ankle, and if it hadn't been for some pretty intensive Dust Treatment from Weiss she probably would've lost it. But that wasn't what brought her back. I knew as soon she was close enough for me to sense it."
Ruby took a deep breathe. Everything had led up to this singular sentence.
"It was you."
The first rays of sunlight crept up on the horizon. Daybreak came up right behind the Memorial Statue, obscuring the whole thing in shadow until it was only a silhouette. But Michael wasn't looking at a statue right now.
"What?"
"You saved her, Michael," continued his mentor. "You saved her when no one else could.
"Even back then I could sense it. A powerful Aura within her womb. Like Pyrrha's. Like Jaune's. But wholly unlike either. You were the reason she came back to us. And you're the reason your mother is still alive."
Ruby got up, as if a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Despite this, she seemed more tired than ever. She got up and faced the Statue once more.
"Pyrrha hates this Statue because it just isn't true. Tell me Michael, do you honestly think this man and the one I've been telling you about these past few hours are one and the same?"
Michael didn't need to answer that.
"Oftentimes in our rush to lionize we forget to humanize. We forget that it's out flaws that make us strong." continued Ruby, in terms conveying the true weight of her age. "The Jaune Arc that I knew did his best to be a good Fighter, a good Huntsman, and a good Leader. But before all that he always tried to be the best Person he could possibly be. And no matter what, that always came first."
Ruby looked back on Michael, the old teacher giving him a smile for which he didn't need his Aura-sensing to decipher its meaning.
"Michael, Pyrrha doesn't look at you with regret because you're not like you're father. She looks at you like that because you're so much like him. She thinks back with pride at all you've accomplished, from your first steps, to your first words, to your first time with Crocea Mors, and her only regret is that your father never got to see this. That he never got to see the good person you are, or the good man she knows you will become. That is her only regret. But considering the life she's lived, I think that's to be thankful for."
Ruby turned away to gaze at the statue again. She liked it best at this time of day. The sun obscured that ugly, dishonest face. In her mind, Jaune was exactly as he had really been, how he would've been if he could've seen his boy all grown-up. Smiling.
Michael got up as well. He was as tired as uncle Ren doing his Sloth impersonation. He stood up to thank Ms. Rose. But then he stopped. He sensed something from her. Something he definitely recognized, having felt it in nearly everyone, from Nora and Ren, to his own Mom. But looking back he'd never felt it in Ruby, not because she never experienced it, but because she must've been repressing it this whole time, hiding it from him, Pyrrha, Jaune, and perhaps even herself. But here, tired and basking in the light of a new day, she had slipped up. As Ruby gazed upon the statue of her young student's father and the first friend she'd ever made at Beacon, Michael spoke up.
"You loved him."
Michael staggered backwards as Ruby's rush of emotions sent his senses into flux. He shook his head to clear his mind. Ruby meanwhile, closed her eyes for a second and just smiled.
"You always were good with your senses."
As she walked past him and back to her office, Michael couldn't help but stare, speechless for a second time in their conversation.
Headmistress Rose walked on.
"It was a long time ago."
Michael Arc continued to stare.
"Not to you."
.
.
.
Author's Retrospective Review
Now this sucker totally came out of Left Field, even for me. I was honestly about to give up on entirely. The saccharine praise, the hyperbolized egos, I was honestly considering deleting my account and just posting stories on my Facebook page, and frankly that option still isn't entirely off the table. But then I got one of those dreaded 'ideas' that either leads to utter humiliation or something approaching the shadow of success, and voila!
I think the key to this piece was properly conveying Michael Arc's character and his relationship to his father, the goofy Jaune Arc we've all come to know and love. Just like Jaune, Michael is a boy trying to fill the shoes of his ancestors. The problem is that, by the hypothetical end of the events of RWBY, Jaune's Huntsman career and life have gone on to become the stuff of legends, and Michael has no idea if he can possibly live up to such a legacy. Like so many others, including his father, he was so focused on what a hero is supposed to do, he forgot about what a hero is supposed to be, i.e. a good person, first and foremost.
First impressions are always important, and I feel confident in saying that this story's looks pretty good. I like how it keeps the reader guessing as to the identity of the main character for a full paragraph, just enough to build a sense of mystery, but not long enough to get grating. Hopefully the reader was able to go through the first paragraph and almost reach the conclusion that this was Jaune talking before they hit the bit with the plaque. If so, good job me! Give yourself a pat on the back. Speaking of the bit with the plaque, I also like how that turned out. If finding out Jaune died didn't sucker the reader in, I don't know what will.
The end also felt quite strong as well. Unrequited love is perhaps the most intriguingly tragic forms of love, and I think that final reveal left a pretty strong impression. Going back over the whole story, it repaints almost the whole thing from an aged woman remembering an old friend, to a wounded soul remembering a lost love. It also speaks volumes about Ruby's character. If anyone in RWBY would be able to hold onto feelings of unreciprocated love without growing bitter and spiteful towards Jaune, Pyrrha, or even Michael, the very product of the love that she wanted but could never have, I think it'd be her. She's Ruby Rose, not Professor Snape!
I could go one, but honestly, there's so much I think went pretty freaking well with this thing! This is pretty rare for any writer, a piece that truly went above and beyond my expectations. Which means I should probably print this out and frame it, because stuff like this only happens once in a shattered moon.