The first time it had happened was when he was young. His sister had asked if he was alright, and he said yes. A sharp pain in his palm startled him, and he looked at his left hand. A small scar, practically the size of a paper cut, was now visible in the middle of his palm. He looked up at his sister, fear and confusion in his eyes, silently asking what had happened. She quietly sighed before pulling up her sleeve to reveal a couple tiny scars that ran up and down her forearm.
"You lied." She said.
Those scars trailed all across Qrow's body, each from moments where he'd said "I'm fine" or "It's nothing". Some of them were larger than others, for there was a difference between saying you're okay after stubbing your toe and saying it after murdering someone.
Qrow's scars hid shamefully underneath his clothes. He got at least one new one every day. His life was not a truthful one, and it wouldn't be so anytime soon.
Qrow didn't think he'd seen anyone without lying scars before, unless they were but an infant. Even the sweetest person in the world could have a dark scar trailing down their neck. Toddlers would have little marks on their elbows and cheeks, and teens would wear cold clothes to hide their dishonesty.
However, there was one person who was believed to have no scars at all. The headmaster of Beacon Academy: Professor Ozpin.
When he'd first attended the school, he gradually began to believe the rumors. Ozpin always spoke clearly and smoothly, each sentence flowing out of his mouth without hesitation. There was no sign of evasion or falsehood in his tone. He stood confidently and moderately, and his words seemed to speak nothing but truth.
He spoke the truth when he said he believed in Team STRQ.
He spoke the truth when he helped Qrow come into terms with his semblance.
He spoke the truth when he told them about the maidens.
He spoke the truth when he told them about Salem.
No matter the result, no matter the sacrifice, no matter the possibilities of more huntsmen and huntresses dying for his cause, he never once told them a single lie.
It wasn't long after Summer's death that Qrow learned why.
The gears in Ozpin's office clunked against each other as they turned rhythmically. It almost resembled that of a heartbeat, as if the room were alive. Sitting upon a large platinum chair was the man with tired but focused amber eyes. His fingers were laced together underneath his chin; a default position he took whenever he was thinking. He stared off into nothingness, his thoughts blinding him from the ebony bird that flew past his glass walls and drowning out the repetitive ticking of his clock-like office. It was only when he heard the sound of the elevator reaching his floor that he blinked back to reality. He heaved a sigh and stood, awaiting his expected visitor.
The elevator doors opened to reveal a familiar scruffy-looking, yet seemingly composed man, whose crimson eyes were clouded with months of despair and exhaustion. He strided into Ozpin's office, placing his hands into his pockets.
"You wanted to see me, Oz?" Qrow asked.
Ozpin nodded, "Yes, thank you for coming, Qrow. Please, have a seat."
The phrase was familiar, as Qrow had grown accustomed to it by now. While his seventeen-year-old self would have sat up straight in the chair, his hands laying in his lap and his expression focused and eager to whatever the headmaster had to tell him, Qrow simply dragged a chair from across the room, slouching down into it and pulling out his flask.
"You're still drinking." Ozpin stated.
"Yep." Qrow breathed after taking a swig, "Dulls the senses."
"Which isn't exactly a state that a huntsman should often be in." Ozpin raised a brow.
Qrow shook his head, "Yeah, well, I'm not fighting right now, am I?"
Ozpin sighed. So this is how he handles grief. He thought wistfully. The man then looked up at his colleague and said, "You have scars, correct?"
Qrow froze briefly at the question. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly and put his flask in his jacket, not breaking eye contact with Ozpin.
"Yeah, I do. Don't know a single person who doesn't. Well, except for-"
"Except for me?" Ozpin finished for him. Qrow nodded.
"What makes you so sure that I have no scars?" Ozpin inquired.
Qrow immediately started making random predictions as to where this conversation may go, but he kept them to himself and shrugged, "I mean, I don't know a single time that you've ever lied. You've always been honest, even when it didn't benefit you. It's odd, but admirable."
Ozpin's lips twitched upwards, "Well, I appreciate the compliment, Qrow. However, I'm afraid that it is not one I'm permitted to take."
Now Qrow was intrigued. He was always suspicious about the theory regarding Ozpin's lack of scars, but it was much more than just marks on your body. What if Ozpin was lying to him now and he didn't even know it? Had he figured out some way to keep the scars from being visible? Was he able to use his magic to hide them?
"What do you mean?" Qrow asked, unsuccessfully attempting to hide his skepticism.
Ozpin chuckled, "I see you have suspicions. I suppose that's a good sign. Not all of your senses have been dulled by alcohol."
Qrow didn't respond, simply narrowing his eyes and sitting up in his chair, subtly asking him to continue.
Ozpin nodded, "As you already know, the result of lying will lead to a mark to appear randomly on your body. The bigger the lie, the deeper the scar. Rumors have been spread that I have no scars, for I have never spoken a lie. Unfortunately, I must tell you that those rumors are false."
The headmaster rested his elbows on his desk, folding his hands over one another and closing his eyes. His tone was remorseful, "You know by now that I am not like anyone else on Remnant."
"You're a reincarnation of your past lives." Qrow nodded, "Yeah, I know."
"I have made more mistakes than any man, woman, or child on this planet. One would think that, because of these, I would be covered head to toe in scars. However, that is not the case."
Ozpin's bronze eyes met Qrow's scarlet ones as he continued, "The truth is that I have told hundreds of lies outside of this body. My scars don't travel with my aura, but sometimes...I can still feel them, as if their ghosts still remain on my skin."
The phrase lingered in silence for a moment, and Qrow took it upon himself to speak up, "Why are you telling me this?"
Ozpin broke his gaze for a moment, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, he spoke his name.
"Qrow."
His voice carried so much emotion, so much longing, that Qrow's breath hitched, "Ozpin?"
Ozpin shuddered. No 'Oz', no 'Wizard', just Ozpin. There was concern in his gravelly voice, and when Ozpin stared into his crimson eyes, he remembered why he trusted this man so dearly. He took a deep breath and spoke, "I have one scar. One from the worst lie I've ever spoken. It's so deep, that I can still feel its pain to this day. It is because of this that I refuse to lie any longer. I...I'm not sure if I'd be able to handle it."
Qrow hadn't realized that his jaw dropped until he closed it. He was shocked, not only from his words, but from his face. Ozpin looked so broken, so afraid. He wasn't looking at Qrow anymore, his eyes lost in another time.
The silence grew deafening, and Qrow hesitantly placed his palm on Ozpin's hand, "Oz, I...I'm sorry."
Ozpin shook his head with a humorless chuckle, "Don't be. You've done nothing wrong." He looked back at the huntsman, his eyes barley glazed over with what looked like tears, "But let's keep this between us, shall we?"
Qrow had no time to think about his words before he blurted out, "I want to see it."
Ozpin blinked, clearly caught off guard, "I'm sorry?"
Qrow swallowed, but continued speaking, "I want to see it. The scar."
Ozpin's face tinted a very light pink, but she shook his head and spoke sadly, "No, you don't."
"I do." Qrow insisted, "I'll show you mine."
"Qrow, those are your scars." Ozpin said, "I can't just invade your privacy-"
"I'm giving you permission." Qrow countered. The two sat in silence for a moment, staring into each other's eyes.
"I want to help, Oz." Qrow's voice was soft, "But I can't if you don't let me."
A lump formed in Ozpin's throat and his voice wavered, "What are you planning to do?"
A smile creeped it's way into Qrow's face, "My best."
Ozpin gazed upon his...Gods, what even was Qrow to him? A friend? A colleague? Then again, what did it matter? He was there for him, willing to take all his burdens and all his faults. He laced his fingers around Qrow's and whispered, "Okay."
The two of them proceeded to head down to Ozpin's personal quarters. They were silent on the way, but they never let go of each other's hand.
Ozpin's dorm was almost identical to what Qrow imagined it would be. Clocks were scattered across the walls, and a neatly made king bed sat in the center of the room. It had deep green sheets and black pillows. His drapes matched his circular carpet, and Qrow bit down the urge to crack a joke. Now wasn't the time.
Qrow turned to face Ozpin, taking his smooth hands into his calloused ones. "I'll go first." He said, and Ozpin nodded slowly.
Qrow carefully unbuttoned his shirt, then slid it off his shoulder and removed his undershirt. A short gasp passed through Ozpin's lips as he gazed upon the plethora of scars across Qrow's chest and shoulders, all the way down past his abdomen and hips. Qrow let Ozpin walk around him, hearing his sorrowful exclamations as he took in the sight of his scarred body.
"May I…?" Ozpin asked. Qrow nodded, and Ozpin placed his hand on his shoulder, gently tracing his fingers over each mark. Qrow shivered at the contact.
"I'm sorry." Ozpin breathed.
"They're my fault." Qrow assured, "Not yours."
"I'm sorry that you can't afford to be honest." Ozpin said, resting his forehead on his shoulder. Qrow turned to face him, their faces tantalizingly close. Qrow's hand brushed against Ozpin's, and he whispered, "Your turn."
Ozpin nodded, removing his scarf. He slipped off his jacket and unbuttoned his vest. Qrow helped him in removing his undershirt. His bare chest was devoid of scars, but he saw the tip of one peeking over his shoulder. Ozpin hesitantly turned around, and Qrow saw it.
It started from over his shoulder, trailing all the way down past his hips. It was as wide as his hand, and it's jagged edges made Qrow wince. He fingers traced the large scar, his heart sinking the longer he looked at it.
"It's awful, I know." Ozpin muttered.
"How…?" Qrow wavered.
Ozpin sighed, "I...it was a long time ago. I was explaining the maidens to the headmaster of Haven. He asked me if there was anything else I was hiding. I...I told him no. I remember the pain, but not much after that. I awoke with paramedics around me. I told them that I was fine, assuring them that there was nothing for them to worry about. When I returned home, I saw it. I haven't told anybody about it until now."
Qrow heard the other man's voice begin to shake, and he walked around to look him in the eye. Tears were starting to flow freely down his cheeks as he spoke, "I've hidden so much from so many. Whether it be about my past or Salem or…"
He choked out a sob, hiding his face with his hands, "I'm such a liar. I've failed so many times in my lives, and I can't talk about it with anybody. Nobody can ever understand, and I don't want them to. I don't want anybody to have to endure what I go through every single day…"
Ozpin felt two strong arms wrap around him, and the next thing he knew, his face was in the crook of Qrow's neck. Ozpin moved his hands from his face and wrapped his arms around Qrow's middle, clutching him like a lifeline as he let out all the pain he'd kept hidden for so long. As he did so, he swore he could barely, just barely, feel Qrow's shoulder's shaking as he held him.
"Don't…" Qrow whispered, "Don't you dare say that about yourself, Oz. I don't care about your scar, I don't care about Salem. You're one of the best things that's ever happened to me. You believed in me when I couldn't believe in myself. You've done so much good, Oz. Do you realize that? I couldn't be more thankful just to have you in my life."
Ozpin held Qrow tighter, as if he would disappear forever if he let go. With Qrow holding him and whispering soothing words into his ear, his sobs gradually went down to soft hiccups. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, but he never loosened his grip.
Once his crying subsided, Ozpin sighed into Qrow's shoulder, pressing his face deeper into it. Qrow continued to run his right hand up and down Ozpin's back while his left rested on his head. The two of them stayed like that for a long time.
"You're okay." Qrow said softly. It wasn't a question, but a reassurance. He was okay. When he was with Qrow, he was okay.
"Thank you." Ozpin breathed.
"I'm here for you, Oz." Qrow told him, a smile evident in his voice. He pulled away from the hug, much to Ozpin's dismay, and looked into his tired eyes. They were red, as well as his nose and cheeks, and his glasses were slightly foggy. Qrow reached up to wipe away a stray tear. His hand lingered there for a moment, and Ozpin took it into his own. He turned his head and brushed his lips against it, and Qrow's heart skipped a beat.
Qrow settled his fingers underneath Ozpin's chin as he leaned in slowly. Ozpin could feel his breath ghosting across his lips, and he shuddered. He leaned into him and pressed his lips against Qrow's.
The kiss took Qrow's breath away, but he kissed back regardless. He was gentle, as if Ozpin's lips were a flower that would wilt underneath too much pressure. The intimacy of the situation was almost overwhelming, and Qrow felt that if this lasted any longer, he'd be floating off the ground with nothing to pull him down.
Ozpin broke the kiss, watching as Qrow's eyes fluttered open. Stars sparkled in his scarlet irises. The words were on his tongue, he could feel them. Those three beautiful but dangerous words that very rarely made it past the headmaster's lips. He wanted to say them, but he felt that he wasn't allowed.
Apparently, Qrow couldn't seem to form words either. He eventually gave up on speech and took to nuzzling his face in Ozpin's palm. Ozpin ran his fingers through the other man's feathery hair and pressed his forehead against his. They weren't sure how long they stayed like that, completely lost in each other, until one of the clocks in the room chimed.
Ozpin checked the time, then groaned, "Oh, dear. I had a meeting planned for 4:00, but…" The man chuckled, "I don't...I don't want to leave."
"Then don't." Qrow grinned, "You have at least a hundred meetings a day. Who's to say you can't skip a few?"
"Well, what do you have in mind?" Ozpin asked.
Qrow curled his lip as he thought, "I guess...we could order takeout and watch a movie? Unless you're up for something a little more fancy."
Ozpin chuckled, "No, that sounds perfect. Takeout it is, then."
Neither of them gained any scars that night.