Chapter 1 – Home
This sensation he felt was familiar, for this anger was too much for him to describe as he shakes and glares maniacally at the culprit of this bloodlust. Anger and frustration engulfed his conscious.
It was him; he recognized that appearance anywhere. His teeth clenched, tasting fresh blood.
He knew the Grimm mask he wore, the blaring red hair, and the sword that lays beside his waist, but most importantly, the delighted chuckle he spews from his mangy maw. The mace wielder, filled with repressed rage, recognized the animal anywhere – it haunted his sleep for too long to remember when it all's started. What lay before him was his recon team, their dismembered bodies, and blood decorating the White Fang campsite. Their paling faces said it all, it came from nowhere, and it was too late to react. And he was surrounded as he recognized more than several White Fang uniforms emerging from the shadows. They knew… They knew from the very beginning.
This wasn't supposed to happen according to the plans Ilia relayed to him and his team when she revealed a major White Fang campsite in Vacuo bordering near Vale's territory.
Carson gripped his trusted mace 'til his knuckles turned white. There was no time for mourning his friends; he knew his team wouldn't allow it even at his most vulnerable. 'Man up and quit pussyin' around,' they would jab at him. It was also no time to spew his hatred to the damn lizard girl either. Unfortunately, he wasn't thinking too clearly in general.
"You bastard!" Cardin yelled at the top of his lungs as he lunges towards, his mace hungry for a bludgeoning.
The animal dared to smirk at him as he his lowered stance and emitted an intense glow of red. "Typical behavior of an inferior race," the terrorist leader taunted the charging ginger. And as expected, Cardin winded his strike too far, too predictable for even the Beacon's standards. But it held a crushing kinetic force. And Adam gladly returned it to him tenfold as he drew out his blade.
Cardin roared, delirious from the ambush and swung his mace with two hands directly above the son of a bitch's dome. And his movements, although telegraphed, was fast, for he quickly directed the arched swing to his right side. It wasn't enough, however.
And no matter how much he flailed, no matter how tough his frame or how he proves his unyielding prowess, it wasn't enough as he could see the incoming flash of crimson cutting through his armor and into his soft flesh. Adam phased through him like a mirage as he followed through his attack. As the slash went through his midsection, the clean-cut forced his blood to rush out in quick session. Aura would have secured any injuries from turning grim, but he knew better than to think Adam would be unable to reach past his armor and into his being. That would settle soon enough he thought. All he needed was a definite hit to the bastard's skull. That's all he needed, how unfortunate that speed was never his forte.
And he knew he couldn't come close to the combat level as this little devil spawn. But it would serve him eternal bliss if his last moments were Adam to fall before him and lie under his boot. It was too farfetched of a dream though.
As the brave yet careless warrior collapsed to his knees, the pain started to numb him. That wasn't a good sign – his vision blurred and it was harder to breathe. Cardin was dying, much to his annoyance.
He had much to say to the red-haired freak, but Cardin's strength was fading slowly, and Adam, even after taking him and his crew down, simply wiped his beloved katana with his coat and proceeded to walk towards him.
"Such a stupid ploy," Adam scoffed as he reached for his scroll. "Did you honestly think you could just walk in here and expect an open target? Heh, very foolish of you, but they were within my expectations."
"F-fuck you!" Cardin coughed, pressuring his wound with his palm. "You're dead!"
"Hmph, is that all you're capable of saying?" Adam sighed as his stands before the downed man. He then kicked Cardin in the stomach, causing him to gasp and hiss as his wound spilled more blood.
"I've heard of you a while back, Cardin Winchester. The man who leads a mercenary unit that targets the White Fang hideouts, destroy our Dust supplies and transportation, and worse yet," Adam gave another good kick at him, "the filthy lowlife who executed over countless of good Faunus, men and women alike, within my organization."
He grabbed his neck and pulled his head up to get his attention. The blue eyes, although losing its color, still has a sliver of life left. "I've always wanted to meet you and tell you this before I rid you from Remnant." Cardin, barely breathing at this point, collected the blood in his mouth and spat his bile at his face. Unfortunately, he didn't even have the strength let it fly far enough. However, it did stain his uniform. Well, at least that was a decent response on his part. He was tempted to reach out with his hand and smear it over his smug face.
Unfazed by this, Adam drew merely his blade once again, ready to finish him off.
"Even though you are a beneath me, even if you did everything in your power to get rid of us. I have to admit," he chuckled as placed the sharp edge of the ginger's neck, "that hate of yours is similar to mine. Perhaps it's even greater than mine. But unlike me, you don't know how to utilize that hatred, nor do you understand where that emotion even stems from," he shrugged. The dying warrior raised his limp hands to strangle him, but could barely apply any pressure as he wrapped them around his neck, "and you may never will. Perhaps it's better that way," he sighed, the sword dug into his jugular.
'Fucking sub-human bastard!' the mace wielder roared in his thoughts. The memories of his childhood were catching up to him as Cardin was filled with an unrelenting will, his fingers tightened around the terrorist's neck. His throat drying from blood, he could only whisper his last sentence but with a grim tone.
"You'll die and rot like the fucking filthy animal you really are, and when you get bent, I'll drag you into my hell and make you pay!" Adam didn't respond to his insult. Instead, he angled his hilt, pressing the blade away from him.
"Goodbye Cardin," he said before he slowly decapitates the glaring ginger-haired man, "and good riddance."
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In the southern region of Mistral lies a small town named Howling Shores, where the city lays on top of a plateau near the large airship stations that sit around the settlement. It was a peaceful community, but it harbored strong winds and a raging sea. That, and the sounds of turbines clocking in every morning. Luckily, the infrastructure was robust with steel and concrete. There were soaring walls forged in augmented steel that also blocked off most attacks from Grimm besides the Nevermores and Lancers. And since it's one of the very viable airship ports for trading with merchants at the Menagerie, compared to the bustling cities up near the Wind Path, it was a trading and shipping area brimming with Faunus and alike.
It was also the middle of the summer, but that just signaled the adults to work harder and the children to take a break from the academics. And inside near the northern borders of was a two-story home, but it was designed and forged in enhanced steel to take a colossal amount of hits. And within it was the Winchester family who guards against any threats when alerted from the local council. It was a time like any other for the tall, mighty, and proud huntsman, Sean Winchester.
At least that's what he was hoping for.
Today was an odd one for Sean and his wife, Merry Winchester. First, instead of his alarm clock giving him the pleasant midi music he expected in the morning, or the love bites from Merry when he was reluctant to get up, a sudden screaming son of his invaded his eardrums. It was a Sunday goddammit, so unless there's a pack of Grimm at his doorsteps, there should be no tolerable excuse as to why he was so damn noisy.
Second, when he walked into his son's room with just his boxers and saw what was going on, Cardin was a stuttering mess and started running around his room as if he no longer recognizes his own home. Was it a nightmare? No, if it were, he'd know for sure the brat would crawl his way into the bed and ruin his night with his lover.
Third, his very son dared to gawked at him like a stranger, then at himself, then back at him, only to raise his hand as if measuring how he stands up to his dad. And finally, when he finally spoke in the morning, it took the cake of an odd Sunday.
"This can't be real. No, it must be that bitch playing tricks on me," Cardin whispered to himself but audible to the father, "But holy fucking shit…"
Sean donkey punched him hard enough to imprint his knuckles on the back of his head for saying such heinous words and at such a casual tone. "Watch your language brat!" Cardin reeled back in pain and growled, lowering an octave on purpose.
"Ow! What the fucking hell!? Is your retarded habit kicking in again?" Cardin bitched hard as a single tear was shed from the bump on his head.
He prayed and questioned how he learned such language. And habit? What habit? Was he the one who screamed bloody murder? He thought not.
Damn little shit will have Merry chew my fucking ass out if I don't fix that potty mouth.
"Oi son, what's gotten into you?" He commanded Cardin's attention as the boy started rubbing the back of his head – as if that hurts. Thankfully, he unlocked his semblance at a tender age of 6, albeit with some serious resistance from his beloved. And now after a year, the boy seemed to get the hang of it already.
"I don't think I've ever taught you the adult vocabulary, and I know for sure neither did your mom." Sean was suddenly worried.
Cardin's eyes widened for a quick second, which was something he noticed when he mentioned her. With locked jaws, Cardin asked through his clenched teeth.
"Where's mom?" His blue eyes showed he was determined. Hardened. But that wasn't something a young seedling should show. No, it was more similar to his own when he lost his own significant other. Sure, his son loved his mother dearly, perhaps near the point of blue balling Sean, but it that was a face that would eventually give him a permanent scowl.
Something was off about the child, but it was early - as in 6 am in the morning early. At best, he's operating at 30 percent mental capacity, with black coffee it'd be 50 at most. Hopefully, Merry can deal with this shit and leave him out of it.
And speaking of she-devil, Merry Winchester came into the scene, her shoulder length and curly brunette hair bobbed every time she moved and her pale skin shined even in the dimmed bedroom. Well, it more like she dragged her slippers in here, and was wearing nothing more than his black lingerie to show most of her glorious bust.
"What's with the ruckus," she slurred, blinking to adjust to the room's lighting.
He was expecting an'ew mom; you're blinding me! Put some clothes on' or something along those lines. Instead, Cardin hitched his breath was still as if even the world was frozen. And his bewildered blue eyes expressed mixed emotions in milliseconds, but one particular feeling was evident: immense gloom.
When her maternal instincts kicked in her like a pack mule, she immediately took note of his face and rushed towards the boy with a worried voice. She knelt down to match the height of eye contact and kissed his forehead and hummed to a lullaby to calm his down. However, her actions lead the child's shedding tears as she caressed his cheeks and motioned her palm in small circles.
"Cardin, little pumpkin, please tell me what's wrong," she begged for her son to answer.
Merry was a former huntress and was regarded as a strong-minded leader back in her prime. Also known to wield a fearsome weapon she called Bash N' Smash, Merry was no push-over. May the people's insults and threats go over her head, for everyone knows she's not the kind to settle things down until she comes out on top. But she was an all-natural hero and role model to the huntsmen community, yet she's also to be feared and proceeded with caution. He never recalled how he stole her body and soul, but he had to thank and curse his drunk persona for the daily gift that was Merry. She also had a massive heart but harbor vulnerable attachments with family, and that was primarily so when she felt her own tears to shed for her boy's suffering.
"Please, I need to know! Was it something you eat? A nightmare? Did someone hurt you? It is, isn't it!? I swear to Oum if it's that Thrush brat, I'll give that bastar-" Before she got to finish her sentence, Cardin buried his face into her chest and gave her the tightest hug he could muster with his small frame.
There was no need to ask anything; she returned gesture but with more care and gentleness. "It's okay pumpkin; everything's alright. I'm here baby." No, everything's not okay, Sean thought. As far as he could tell, his son's going through a change, and it's unfortunate that it wasn't puberty. This was much worse.
"Mom, mom, mom…" Like a mantra, Cardin cried in her arms. His tears were still flooding. But something about mentioning the retired huntsman got his dad's attention. But it didn't deter Merry from going along with his troubles. She would gladly stay like this for as long as she had the energy, and for her part that even meant an eternity. However, after several minutes of hugging, humming, and stifled cries, Cardin quieted down.
"Cardin," she soothingly rubbed his back, "I'm not going anywhere." She slowly pulled away from him, much to the ginger's reluctance. When she looked into his eyes, fear enveloped her mind.
They were deep like an endless abyss. No joy and lack of curiosity – her child was hurt, but she didn't have the slightest idea where this troubled look came from. His eyes weren't like that when he had the innocent blue iris that shined like her own. They weren't her boy's eyes; it's too much like Sean's when they were back in their back in their young Huntsmen years.
But she also noticed a vigor of energy overpowering that depressed darkness as something dawned on his mind. Cardin backed away from her but spoke before she could grab him back into another hug.
"Mom!" Cardin shouted at an octave bordering shouting, startling both of his guardians, his demeanor transforming suddenly before them. They couldn't complain about it; it was certainly better than what they witnessed before his breakdown. "I need you and the old man out of my room for a bit."
"Hmm?" She tilted her head.
…
Old man?
Old man…
OLD MAN?
"What did you call me!?" It's like he wanted to throttle him or anything, but at the very least tossing him through the window would make them even. "I'm a young and sexy thirty you midget!" Cardin sighed before he grabbed the seething Sean by the wrist and pulled along with his mother through the door.
"Ah, sorry, I forgot," Cardin said and snapped his fingers, "What I meant to say was 'get out of here, drunk pervert.'"
Sean 'tsked' while Merry giggled at his light jabbing. Whatever brought on this character, it was a sign to say that he's growing up a little more than she thought.
"We'll leave to yourself, but you have to tell what you've been thinking about recently, okay?" She knelt down and reached with her pinky out.
"Promise me?"
Cardin's cheeks were tinted roses and facepalmed himself. She's never done this with him before, and she knew it was embarrassing to both of them, but he reluctantly grabbed back with his smaller digit before he muttered.
"I promise mom…" It was good enough for her for now.
Immediately after the agreement, Cardin closed and locked the door before they started to hear pitter patters and the sounds of the closet and drawers creaking. It seemed he was going to be busy. Merry grabbed the grumbling man to the small hall and into the kitchen and broke the silence.
"Sean," Merry whispered with her husband's attention directed to her, "Is Cardin going through something I don't know about?" There was never a time she lacked attentiveness of the seven-year-old. This wasn't the Cardin who would oversleep, play around the house, or even listen to his father respectfully. He's not even so timid anymore; the child was conscious about himself and his actions. "I mean, did he meet someone new? Is school mistreating him? What if he fell and hit his head? Is it us? What if we're the ones at fault? Oh Oum, what if he watched something we should've hidden? OH Oum, what if he found your liquor stash and tried it out!"
"Breathe woman!" Sean said. He placed his hands on her shoulders. Although it did calm her, it didn't stop her from muttering the possibilities. "He's just going through some kind of revelation." That got her to stop and considered his words.
"Revelation? We've been living here for over a decade; he only knows his home to the school. He's only ever gone out when you decided to unlock his Aura and train him, and that was months ago."
"It doesn't have to be something physical you know," Sean said.
"Please don't tell me he's going through 'changes.'" She deadpanned.
"Heh, I wish. The kid's only seven – he's got 'til at least five more years to feel the hell I went through." Sean snickered.
As much as she wanted to joke around, Cardin's condition was eating her inside out. But Sean may have a point, maybe he was suddenly contemplating about something, and then *BAM*, her little goofball was another kind of ball she'd have to describe later.
"We'll figure something out. Whatever he's going through, you'll always be by his side waiting for the excuse to save him and absorb his affections." Sean said with assurance.
Merry raised her brow. "Don't you mean 'we'?"
"Nope," Sean shook his head, "with the way he's heading, I'd rather knock him around, and you can heal his wounds after the workout. You know, like good cop bad cop."
"You're making it sound like he's some criminal," Merry sighed. Sean scoffed at the accusation.
"Of course not. I just think he's prepping up to face the cold, harsh reality, and we, as the responsible adults, should support him in his endeavors."
"Honey, you're not making any sense. He's only seven, the only cold and harsh reality he's gonna face in the next few years is when we'll have to explain to him about the Birds and the Bees." she scowled, pinching the bridge of her nose when she recognized the playful smirk on his face. "Monty, you're still drunk aren't you?"
Sean chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her lithe frame, pulling her in into his personal space. "Not at all, maybe a little sleepy, but if you tell me more about the Birds and the Bees Merry, I can start my motor up."
"Pft!" his wife pushes him away before he got her in into the flow. Well, at least someone was thinking the bigger picture. "I'm not in the mood. You better start thinking with your smarter noggin for a moment."
"I am thinking with my smarter noggin!" He pouted. "And he's making a rather compelling argument."
…
"Oi," a young voice pitched in. Both of the adults turned and saw their child glaring back at the grown man.
"Keep your grubby hands to yourself!"
Cardin donned himself a military backpack that was gifted by Sean's father, a Kevlar vest wrapped light paddings, his basic outdoors shorts, and was carrying a metal baseball bat. He as usually fond of wearing his plain black shirts and baggy jeans; that was what he wore most of the time, and he never acknowledges the other types of clothing they gave him.
"Why are you dressed up like that Pumpkin?" Merry asked. Sean thought the same question. The boy grinned, his expression of disgust was replaced with excitement.
"I'm going to train as a huntsman seriously," Cardin proclaimed, "and when I get strong enough, I'll attend Beacon Academy!" His mother gasped followed by a feeling of dread.
"Beacon?" Sean felt worried.
Cardin nodded, "Yeah, the same one mom went to."
Somehow this made even less to them about his sudden antics this morning. The training they got. After all, in some way or another, a family of hunters bonded through fighting the forces of Grimm and resolve the strife of the everyday people. If anything, it was surprising for Cardin to have not invested in training sooner when they told him stories about the Winchester history ever since he was 4. But to go to Vale and study under Ozpin was an entirely different matter. Sean only knew the man through news and the occasional drunks who've met him. Merry's view was a new story. And much to his frustration and curiosity, she was never open for discussion when it came to the mysterious man or about the academy.
All he recalled from her after all these years were 'I'm never going back there; you hear me you bastard? So quit asking me about it or no sex for a week!' And he would naturally shut his trap.
He peered back to Merry's frightened eyes – she was stunned from Cardin's statement. But unlike when it's mentioned from anyone else, she looked frightened by the possibility of him leaving her nest and into a minefield. Unfortunately, Cardin was never the type to grasp the words he uttered or recognize the still face from Merry.
"And you!" he pointed his tiny finger at Sean.
"Me?" He asked for confirmation. The kid never really had that kind of resolution in his voice. After all of the years he's been raising him, he was always resistant to talking with Sean directly. It wasn't out of fear, but more like out of shyness or caution.
"Yeah, you!" Cardin's grin widened until it reached near the height of his ears. "Train me 'til you drop dead old man! You owe me."
"HUH!?" Sean exclaimed. Literally a while ago, the boy cried for just hiking up north to the mountains and bawled even harder when he whacked him upside the head in a spar. But that wasn't even the most surprising thing about the boy's transformation. Out of reflex, the head of the family yanked him off the ground and shook him rather violently. It was no big deal to Cardin though, he had worse.
"Who you calling old man you midget!?" He growled much to the boy's amusement.
"Ha! Who else? Weren't you listening?" Cardin laughed at his dad's attempt at scaring him, "don't tell me you've gone deaf too, old fart."
He's 30 years old, technically at his prime. Inside of him just snapped at the comment. "All right," he sighed, holding the snickering child to the front door before rightfully tossing him to the wind. More precisely, he threw him as hard he could in his natural stupor. To his credit, he heard a yelp from landing on concrete and sliding onto the dirt. "I'll play your little game boy, but don't be crying home to your mommy when I'm through with you."
Still smiling, Cardin got up and gifted Sean a delightful pair of birdies.
Something told him he didn't learn that from his friend at the Thrush household. But no matter, he was concocting a far more insidious way to piss him off anyways. After slamming the door shut, the stunned Merry out of her trance. She hurled towards him with renewed energy and thrust him against the wall with enough power to shake the entire room.
"Whoa, what happened to you not being in the mood?" Sean laughed and ignored the scowl.
"You told him?!" she snarled, emphasizing her point by rewinding and throwing him against the wall again. Oh, he felt something crack from that. Hopefully, it's the support beams creaking and not his spine.
"Why would I tell him? Besides, if you haven't noticed, we have a thing called the internet and news! And scrolls!" He threw his arms in exaggeration. "Of course, he would know about one of the most prestigious schools for Huntsmen and Huntresses. It's in his studies."
"That's not what I meant. I mean how did our son know I attended Beacon?" Merry tightened her grip, causing Sean to wince. Damn her monster strength. "I never mentioned it to him, not even once did I slip it out… You're the only one who knows and no one else inside the city's borders."
Sean sighed.
"Honey, he probably figured it out some his classmates or someone near the ship stations. Every day there's a new face after all in Howling Shores. So calm down-"
"I am calm," she interrupted him before letting go and backpedaling away. "I just need some time to think this over."
"Oookay, now that you're calm, I'll just be on my way and teach the brat for a few hours."
She gasped, and a snapped her fingers. "That's it!"
"Hmm?"
"Since he wants to go to that shithole so much. Heh heh," one uncomfortable silence later, an innocent smile hid the beast inside of her. "All you need to do is train him hard and long enough to convince him otherwise!" Sean looked at the deranged woman for a bit.
"And what's your definition of a hard and long enough training?"
She was always the strong bullheaded mother, and she would never subject her son to the practices of being a huntsman. She fidgeted a little and twiddled her thumbs in guilt.
"Oh, you know, add a couple of hundred kilos of weight bindings in his conditioning, spar until he can't lift anymore, and use difficult to know huntsman jargon. And have him disciplined like how you were in the Vacuo military… Make sure you break his determination but not his will to live. At least that's my definition…"
"Monty! That's pretty damn brutal dear!" He guffawed and closed in on her to peck on her lips. "But this is why I love you." She blushed and pouted at his display of affection, but she wasn't complaining or pulling away.
"Get out of here you drunk pervert!" She provoked him with Cardin's phrase, causing him to frown slightly. He was still feeling somewhat coarse though.
"Anything for my everything, sweety." Her blush turned a shade darker. She was always easy to tease.
"Then do what I say and get to it, mister Winchester." She smirked as she unlocked and opened the door for him to stroll through. "Be back by 6; you wouldn't want to be late for dinner."
"Yes, Missus Winchester, your wish is my command." Relieved that she's back to her original self, he walked out and gently closed the entrance, ready for his child's new tenacity.
And he meant it too. Whatever the child's going through must be grave enough for Sean to get involved. But he didn't mind about it. In fact, Sean was ecstatic inside, for this is proof that Cardin wished to continue the family legacy of hunting Grimm and instilling their prowess against the enemies of humanity. And if he's going to help the boy to reach his destination, then the only thing that'll get in his way would be his eternal flame. Not that he didn't want to, but life as the slayer of Grimm was a duty, and they could use all they can get their hands on. However, if he's implementing the routine, his wife wanted him to, then so be it. No longer will he hold his hands or guide him through every step. Besides, something told him that wouldn't be a problem anyways.
When we walked to Cardin, he sees the iron will through his pupils. They told him exactly what he thought: don't half-ass it old man – give me everything you got. Heh, and already he's acting like a man.
"I pray for the best little fella; you're going to need it." Sean chuckled darkly.
But Cardin quietly laughed back at him, flipping him another birdie for good measure.
"That's what I should be saying to you old fart," Cardin's words held venom, his smile turned upward menacingly. "We got the whole summer, so don't you dare skip out on me. You wouldn't want to upset someone who a status above you."
"Hahaha! Ooh, such big words! Watch your mouth sometime in the future, 'Pumpkin' - you have no idea how that'll bite you back in the ass!" Truly, this was a significant change from the mumbling boy he was just a few days prior. Although that unnerved him, perhaps even frightened the mighty huntsman, it was relaxing to see ginger haired imp standing up against him with such apparent defiance. In his own right, Cardin was growing up and adjusting well for his age. And that assured him enough to continue playing ignorant of Cardin's new manners. He'll figure it out one way or another.
As if the tensions between them couldn't get any worse, both of them started to chuckle as they began walking through the streets and let the civilians feel the palpable pressures between a loving father and son. Cardin gripped his baseball until his knuckles turn white. Sean bared his fangs; his smile turned demonic. It'll be only 10 minutes to reach to the border's entrance and another 30 minutes to arrive at the training grounds outside of Howling Shores.
Oh yes, he'll figure it out, even if he had to get his hands dirty to get the job done.
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A/N: 'Sup y'all,
And holy shit, writing this out was a bitch. This was supposed to be around a thousand words, but I always end up dissatisfied with my work and rewriting everything. I'm still not satisfied with it, but I rather not delve into this too much. Hell, I don't even know what genre I should categorize this story, it's too much of a mixed bag for me to decide.
So this just popped in my head, and although the 'back to the past samurai jack' concept is pretty overused, I honestly couldn't really get it out of my head. It's as if my subconscious is nagging me to write it out at least and see what I'd do with it.
And Cardin is like an empty slate for me to play with. There's Jaune for that as well, but I thought since there's a shit ton of him doing everything already, I'd settle with a grouchy Winchester and trial with what I can do with his personal foundation, such as him being racist (speciest probably?) and an overall prick. I intend to keep that part of him but at the very least extend the reason or develop some excuse.
I also plan to change point of views every once in a while – most will be Cardin's view. So this should be a fun story to experiment, I think.
I also make no promises of what's to come with this story or any other stories for that matter. I won't say how long it'll be 'til I drop the next chapter, nor will I integrate any reviewer's critique in my writing besides grammar issues. I find it unhealthy when someone makes promises only to break one and continue doing that out of embarrassment or lack of motivation. If that ever happens to me, I'd follow the last excuse.