Hi everyone *waves* Thanks for stopping in to check out this story. All credit goes to Defiled Ladel for writing the original story which really captured my attention and inspired me to write my own version (with his permission of course) so go check out his profile and give his story lots of love cuz it definitely deserves it. And don't be afraid to tell me how you think I did cuz I kinda feel like I didn't change enough to really make it my own story so just let me know when you're done :D
P.S. I'm going back and doing a couple minor edits to existing chapters, mostly the first two, to break up the wall of text that they were originally, along with a couple grammar and spelling corrections (I feel like George Lucas remastering the original trilogy *shivers*)
He was being watched. He could sense it, like something you see out of the corner of your eye that vanishes when you try to look directly at it. He'd felt it since his return to Vale, blazing his way through the forest as if he himself was one of its residents. Every time he thought his little shadow would come close enough for him to get a glimpse, it would vanish back into the forest. He idly poked the low ember of his fire, flames licking at the few remaining dead branches he'd thrown onto it, eyes scanning the trees around him. He was getting jumpy, not because he didn't know who was tailing him, but because he did, and he knew he wouldn't be able to shake her.
Taking a deep breath, he leaned against the tree he had been resting against since he'd stopped to make camp, pulling his cloak tighter around himself. The forest was beautiful at night, especially now that he was back in his homeland. He had been in forests before over the last decade, indeed they seemed to be more his home than the actual houses he'd stayed in. But there was something about the forests of Vale that seemed better than the others. The breeze felt cooler and more welcoming, the leaves crunching under his boots louder, reminding him of the time he spent in the forests as a boy and young man.
He'd never left, not really. He did leave, but it hadn't been a snap decision. Before he left all those years ago Ozpin had come to him and asked if he would be interested in a job. He would be dispatched on a long distance mission to a country whose villages had very little contact with the capital city or other better defended towns and were under constant assault by the creatures of grimm. He wasn't certain about the job at first. He knew his skills were subpar, but Ozpin made it clear the offer would not expire. It wasn't until that day, in his final year that he made his decision.
As always Ozpin knew what was up, and why he was leaving. When he took up the job, the green clad professor informed him that the only one who would know where he was being deployed would be himself. And that was that. He left with a cliché; in the middle of the night as everyone slept, his bag packed with only his essentials. And for a decade he'd wandered mountains, valleys, and plains, exterminating grimm along the way. He'd even spent three years on the front lines during the grimm incursion of Mystral. And that was all there was to it really. Wander the land defending villages on the fringes of the map. At least that was the routine until a month ago when Ozpin had sent a recall order and that another huntsman had already been sent to take his place.
And now he was being shadowed deep in the forests of Vale by somebody he really didn't want to interact with at all. He was poking the fire with his sword when he heard a pop that wasn't from the fire, followed by a hushed curse. He smiled and pushed himself to his feet, kicking dirt over the blaze to extinguish it and strapping his sword to his back.
He set off into the forest, following the gentle sound of a river sloshing its way down the slope until he found its source. He took the opportunity to fill his canteen before hooking it to his belt and continuing on, traveling upstream until he found a small wooden bridge that arced over it. He was halfway over when he turned and leaned against the railing, his arms crossed over his chest and a smile on his face. "Okay Blake, you can come out of the bushes." He said, chuckling softly when he saw her head pop out, eyes glowing bright and twigs decorating her hair
There was no denying Blake had matured, he long raven locks falling down her back like a black waterfall, he ears were proudly on display, twitching at every noise coming from the forest behind her. Jaune let his eyes cascade over her, drinking in her curves as she emerged from the brush. The way her newly ample bosom bounced with each step, the sway of her flared hips. She was a woman now, and a damn good looking one. She'd changed; much like everyone else had changed he was sure. They had all been on the cusp of adulthood when he left, and after he left they'd had ten years to mature fully. Blake was clearly in her prime.
He managed to focus on the clothes clinging to the curves he'd been admiring, covered with dirt and grass stains and clinging to her like a second skin. He idly wondered if she dressed like that every day or only on assignments. When his eyes met Blake's he saw a smile in them.
"Yes Jaune, I am in fact a woman. Has it really been so long you had to eye me up like a teenager?" she asked, joining him on the bridge, bathed in the light of the moon. At the word 'teenager' Jaunes smile died, his mind flooded with memories of his time at Beacon, of her. His eyes grew hard and he answered her question with one of his own.
"How'd you find me? Wait, too easy, how'd you find out I was coming back?" Blake blinked rapidly, surprised at his sudden change in mood. "Ruby overheard Ozpin talking about troop movements with General Ironwood. Said he talked about recalling a long distance Huntsman called the 'White Knight'. It was easy to put the pieces together after that." She paused, looking down and rubbing her arm. "We thought you were dead Jaune. You just up and left. I understand the 'why' but you could have at least told someone you were going." She said, unable to keep the edge from her words, her ears flattening against her head.
Jaune took a deep breath and leaned against the railing of the bridge, his hands gripping it so hard the wood creaked. Blake hated seeing him remember that day. Hated remembering it herself, and the terrible secret she and the others had kept from him for two years. He finally looked at her, and the anger in his eyes made her take a step back. He spoke, and his voice was soft. But his words were sharp, and as he spoke them she felt every cut they made.
"Tell them what exactly Blake. 'Oh hey guys, sorry but I'm leaving. Why? Well maybe it's because you all decided it would be fun to keep an important secret from me for two years.' Why the hell should I have told you anything? You decided it was fine to let her lie to me, stringing me along and giving me the false hope that we could have something after Beacon. And you know what the worst part of it all was? It wasn't the lies, or the blatant disregard for how I felt, oh no. It was that, after everything, none of you. Not one single freaking one of you had the nerve to say you were sorry. So tell me Blake,why I should have told you a SINGLE FUCKING THING!?" he hadn't realized he was yelling until he heard his voice echo through the night, scattering the sleeping birds. Blake looked like she was ready to run, one foot set behind her and her ears lying flat against her head, her eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
Jaune let his shoulders sag as he sighed, letting go of his anger. "I'm sorry Blake. Let's just get back to the city." He turned and started across the bridge again. Blake stared after him, sparing a glance at the bridge and noticing something strange. Where he'd gripped the railing there were deeper dents in the wood where his left hand would have been. "Jaune." She muttered under her breath before looking at his retreating form, her focus on his left arm. Sighing again and unusually focused on the past, the black haired faunus jogged to catch up with him.
She wasn't sure how long they walked before Jaune suddenly held up his left fist. She stopped and crouched low, drawing Gamble Shroud and racking the slide. Jaune drew his sword and Blake was startled that he had no shield. They sat there like that for a few minutes before a rustling in the bushes drew their attention, and the actual threat came at them from behind. They were shaped like jungle cats from hell, the infamous skull like protrusion and the bony spikes along its back, and armored plates on its tail. "Hellcats!" Jaune yelled as he spun, driving his sword into the face of the one leaping at him from behind. Blake dove to the side, feeling her hair being tugged by the hellcats claws as it went past her. Bringing her pistol around, she fired half the clip into the beast's bony skull, its blood and brains splattering against the trees.
"How many are there?" Jaune asked as he dropped to his back, letting the hellcat spear itself on his blade. Blake stopped long enough to scan the tree line, thankful once again that she was a faunus. Gotta love perfect night vision right? She saw the hellcats as they moved among the bushes and trees. "There's eight out there prowling. And the other three out here still with us." She said, leaping over her next attacker and emptying the last of her clip into his head. "Reloading." She called, ejecting her empty clip and inserting a fresh one. Of course there's always one predator that notices the vulnerability and takes that chance to strike, and for a brief moment Blake was frozen, unable to react as death leapt at her, maw gaping and razor sharp teeth exposed. Blake tried in vain to bring her blade up in time but before the jaws could snap shut around her throat an arm moved in front of it.
As the hellcats teeth sank into the flesh Blake heard a metallic rasping, as if the teeth were scrapping against metal. She moved her eyes up to the arms owner and saw Jaune standing there, holding the arm up as if it didn't have a three hundred pound Grimm hanging from it. He met her eyes briefly before turning his eyes to the Grimm. "What's the matter you poor bastard, can't get a good taste?" he said before driving his blade into the creatures neck, killing it. He stared at her briefly before he tore the synthetic flesh off of his fake arm, letting it shift and change until a barrel popped up and extended from his forearm and a metal plate covered his fist.
"On your feet Blake, fights not over yet." He said as he charged off to take on another of the roaring hellcats, using both his forearm gun and sword. Blake recovered her senses enough to spring back to her feet and fight alongside the blonde knight. It took a while and some battle wounds, but eventually they emerged victorious. Blake watched as Jaune cleaned his sword on the fur of a dead hellcat before sheathing it again, his left arm returning to normal. Blake stared at it for a few minutes before tentatively asking "Jaune what-" Jaune held up his hand. "I'll tell everyone all at once. For now, let's move on." he said. Blake nodded and started off, passing him and heading further into the forest.
When she didn't hear him following she turned back. "Jaune?" she said, turning back to see him staring back in the direction they'd come. 'It would be so easy to go back.' He thought. The thought had been hanging over his head like an angry cloud ever since he'd come back. He shook his head, dissipating that cloud and the thought with it. It had been too long to hold onto old grudges. "I'm coming." He finally said, jogging to catch up with the dark haired woman, who smiled to herself as they headed off. It would be hard for him to forgive them, he knew that. But he would have to. He was tired of being alone.
And he had made her a promise, and it would be rude to keep her waiting longer than he already had.
To say Ruby Rose was anxious would be an understatement. The twenty-nine year old was walking around in a nervous huff.
"Three days. It's been three days since Blake told us she'd found Jaune. It shouldn't take so long to get back to the city, should it?" she asked the other member of her team, who was just as anxious as their leader for the return of their friends. Ever since they had discovered that Jaune had spent the last decade hunting out in the wild and not rotting in an empty grave, they had devoted as many resources as they could to tracking him down. A month had now passed since they had gotten word he'd made it back to Vale and two weeks since Blake had left to make contact, now they waited impatiently for the arrival of their friend.
Ruby had been a nervous wreck since she'd heard of their imminent return. She'd spent the past few days vigorously cleaning every surface of her home to preoccupy herself. She'd asserted that until Jaune could find a place for himself, he would stay with her. When met with the questioning looks of her teammates she said it was a step towards making amends and getting her friend back.
Weiss was nervous, perhaps even afraid, about seeing him again. Her last words to Jaune had been her harshest and it had stirred anger in him that no one had suspected was there. He had come back at her, yelled at her so loudly she was surprised that the whole academy hadn't heard him, about how he had been nothing but kind to her, wanted nothing more than to be her friend when he'd finally given up on dating her.
And all she'd offered him in return was insults and harsh words. His final words to her haunted her the most when she thought of him. "I hate you, you spoiled brat, and I'm done putting up with you." She wondered if he still hated her now as much as he did then. She'd blamed herself for his leaving, and she would take this chance to apologize.
In the storm that was Ruby's preparations for Jaune's arrival, everyone else had seemed to overlook Yang. Surprisingly, she was nowhere to be found anywhere on the floor Weiss and Ruby occupied. She was lying on the bed in the spare bedroom that Ruby had deemed would be Jaune's. Zwei, faithful dog that he was, was lying next to his blonde owner to provide what comfort he could to the obviously troubled woman, who idly stroked his fur as she lost herself in thought.
In the wake of Jaune's departure, team RWBY had begun working with what was left of team JNPR and over the course of several years had developed excellent chemistry. Considering the friendship that already existed between the two teams it was obvious that team RWBY would bring them into the fold, making them one of the most effective grimm hunting teams in Vale, being deployed on the toughest missions and slaying even the strongest grimm. Over the years rumors had popped up here and there about a warrior out in the badlands. A warrior that apparently looked a lot like a dearly departed friend.
So three years after Jaune 'died' Yang went to investigate a ghost.
SEVEN YEARS AGO
Mystral had been blindsided by the sudden incursion of Grimm, though they'd held them off for a year before finally asking for support from the neighboring kingdoms. Yang, along with several other huntsman and huntresses had been selected as the vanguard, to be sent to Mystral as support. Her team had not wanted her to go, and had volunteered to go with her once they found there was no getting her back, to no avail.
When she'd gotten off the airship she'd expected to be part of a counterattack. A soldier was waiting for her and her support team to take them to the battlefield. They boarded the armored personnel carrier and rode in silence for several hours filled with sounds of gunfire and snarling Grimm. When they arrived they found they were in the middle of a siege. The defenders had been pushed back; villages and towns abandoned as the Grimm pushed slowly and steadily at humanity like a wave until they crashed against the fortified walls of the capital city, each day spent barely pushing them back from the gates. Yang was to be sent out past the waves of Grimm to scout for any surviving people and escort them back to the gates.
The first few days were hardest, the Grimm attacking her and the small groups of refugees she managed to find almost constantly. She never wanted to have to repeat this experience. Each day was a struggle just to get out of bed, each day listening to the casualty report and losing a little more hope that they could win this fight, each day going out into the field and wondering if she would come back.
A few months into her deployment the stories started to reach her, soldiers and other huntsman whispering about groups of civilians and vanguard scouts being saved by a blonde man in shining white armor and a ragged cloak, hacking through Grimm with a glowing broadsword and shield. The stories gave her hope, and her efforts redoubled to help push the Grimm back.
It had taken close to three months, but the defenders finally managed to push back the tide. Now that they had breathing room Yang was sent with a few other huntsmen as a scouting party to help establish a forward base to organize one last counter offensive. The spot itself had been easy enough to locate, a prime position for the forward base, the only thing left was for her team to secure the location. Yang felt a cold chill shoot down her spine and looked around, listening intently. She heard nothing, absolute silence. That was the giveaway.
"Ambush!" she cried as the Beowolves dove at her and her team. Time ceased to have meaning in that tangle of fur, limbs, blood, and explosions as the fight seemed to drag on. She heard cries being cut short as the Grimm overwhelmed her friends and comrades. Before long she found herself surrounded. If she could just hold out long enough for backup to reach her. She fought hard, but there were just so many of them. She felt the Ursa before she heard it, its shadow falling over her and the Beowulf she was fighting.
When asked by her surviving comrades that night she would swear she could feel its claws swinging toward her. She closed her eyes waiting for the killing blow to fall. But it never did. The next sound she heard was that of claws on metal as the blow was blocked. She looked up to see a man in a ragged cloak holding his kite shield aloft, blocking the Ursa's claws before drawing his sword back, red and orange etchings coming to life along the flat of the blade before bursting into flame. He swung the sword, taking the arm and head of the beast clean off, leaving behind the scent of scorched meat as the Ursa fell to the ground lifelessly.
Yang could do nothing but stare at the man, who cast a brief glance in her direction, a smile plastered to his face. As shocking as it was to see the friend you thought was dead for ten years, not only alive and well, but kicking ass, it was even more shocking to hear his voice, deepened with age and hardened by years of fighting. "On your feet Yang, fight's not over yet." He said, before darting off, leaving a trail of embers behind him.
Yang sprang to her feet and fought with more fire than she thought she possessed, and after another span of immeasurable time the last of the grim fell dead. Yang cast a glance at the cloaked man, who was wiping his blade clean on the fur of a Beowulf before hitting a button embedded in the crossguard, making the sword collapse until it resembled a shortsword and sliding it into the shield, which also collapsed until it reached its more portable form. After hooking the sword to his belt he pulled the hood of his cloak down, revealing his face.
He easily stood a whole head taller than her, his features chiseled and rugged looking, with a few days growth of beard decorating his jaw. His scraggly blonde hair fell to his shoulders and almost covered the three deep parallel scars along his left cheek. "Well Yang, nice to see a friendly face in my neck of the woods." He said, putting two fingers to his lips and whistling. From the surrounding bushes several refugees emerged, most of them women and children. Yang could only stare at them all. There were easily twenty of them. "Jaune, what" Jaune held up a hand to cut her off. "Hold off on the questions until we get back to base." He said, pulling his hood back up and signaling the refugees to follow him. Yang stared after him before jogging to catch up to him.
It took them several hours to reach the base, the journey involving trekking through the lines of Grimm and doubling back along their route, and fighting, so much fighting. Yang wouldn't have managed it without Jaune there to fight beside her. They had great battlefield chemistry, even if they'd only just reunited. Jaune would cover her back with his shield, and Yang would watch his blind spots. Occasionally he would use his shield to send her skyward so she could rain death on the Grimm. Finally, they reached the safe zone with minimal casualties to the refugees.
When they were finally safe in the barracks she punched him in the face. "That's for walking out on all of us." She said, following up her statement with a bone breaking hug. "This is for surviving long enough for us to find you." She said, finally putting him down and really taking in the sight of her old friend. He looked good for a dead man. She took in the barracks as Jaune entered the small kitchen.
There were four bunk rooms connected by a small common room with the kitchen, really only a stove and oven with a refrigerator next to it nestled between two of the bunk rooms, a tiny table sat next to the wall across from the stove, which Yang took a seat at. Jaune removed his cloak and armor, unbuckling his sword belt and hanging it on the chair next to Yangs. She watched as he pulled two glasses from a cabinet and filled them with a liquid from a pitcher he pulled from the fridge.
"This part of Mystral is known for its orange groves. A village I saved specializes in making tea from them that replenishes aura and energy. They gave me a few barrels of it in gratitude so I keep the fridge stocked for the others coming back from the field. Try it." Jaune said, placing a glass in front of her and taking a seat, glass in hand. Yang eyed the drink for a moment before shrugging and taking a swig. She blinked in surprise. Not only was it delicious, she felt the fatigue from the fighting start to lessen, at least a little bit.
After downing her glass of tea in a few large gulps, which Jaune chuckled at, Yang stared at Jaunes robin egg blue eyes and finally spoke. "We thought you were dead." Jaune sighed and set his glass down. When he spoke it once again startled the blonde brawler, who had been expecting to hear the voice of seventeen year old Jaune, only to be confronted with adult Jaune, and oh did she love his voice. "That was kind of my plan."
This response cancelled out the pleasure she felt at hearing his voice with a heavy dose of anger. "That was the plan? To what, let us think you were dead while you were off playing hero in some backwater?" she grabbed him by his collar and slamming him against the wall. Jaune, considering his position and the angry woman pinning him to the wall, remained silent, his face expressionless as Yang, eyes blazing crimson and brimming with tears vented three years of frustration and grief. "Do you have idea what you put us through?"
