Author's Notes:
Yo! Just some background about the premise on the story – I was reading some Coeur Al'Aran (love him or hate him, call me a basic bitch; his stories hold some unexplained hold over me whenever I read them), specifically his "Relic of the Future".
If you're reading this, you most likely already know at least the basic plot but if you don't… Well, I'd suggest just reading it. Wondered what a Jaune who went through hell would be like meeting STRQ and more importantly interacting with a chibi-version of the entire RBWY cast? Then the story is for you.
Plugging for already popular authors aside, Jaune interacting with a younger version of the cast sounding like a pretty nice story premise and I was surprised no-one has written a "Jaune's Day-care" fanfiction on the site. Beholding all the wisdom, I decided to have my own crack at it – so here we are! Let's not hope it flies off the rails too soon, shall we?
Light warning: somethings may deviate from perceived canon under the prospect of more interesting storytelling.
Oh, and I also re-wrote this, replacing the old Chap. 0.
And disclaimer 1: I do take some inspiration for my Arc family OC's from Coeur, if not all of it.
Disclaimer 2: I don't own RWBY, created by Monty Oum for Rooster Teeth. May his soul find peace.
Without further ado, enjoy the story.
Chapter 0: The Babysitter Arc
"It's just not fair!"
Nicholas Arc took his hand and scratched his rough blonde beard with it's gloved, leather surface.
"Jaune, I'm not letting you do this. There's absolutely no way that you will be able to achieve this foolish dream of yours!"
"B-but you haven't even tried, Dad!" The younger Arc pleaded his father.
From his beard to the hard wooden surface of the kitchen table, his hands slammed on the piece of furniture in pure, unrestrained fury - surprising both his son and the audience at the opposite end of the room.
The action shook the food that lay atop it, now cold despite the heat of the argument.
"I haven't even tried because I know it's not possible, Jaune!" He roared.
"I... I-" tried Jaune.
His head still down, blonde locks obscuring his blue eyes that were bright in anger, Nicholas continued, "People die if they're not prepared and... and I'm not letting you throw your life away like that!"
"...I..."
The Arc household was in shambles.
Perhaps not physically, but most certainly emotionally. Strong bonds that had once united the large family threatened to snap, all while bridges were threatened to be burnt.
It was supposed to be a regular Sunday evening, a regular meal to finish the day, a regular conversation should have unfolded... of which the hopes of dipped drastically as the only son of the house, Jaune Arc, announced at the dinner table:
"I'm going to become a Huntsman!"
Nicholas Arc had seen many a good man die in the effort against the Grimm and in the line of a Huntsman's work.
All faces, no names, of people he went on missions with, dead - only remembered by a slab of stone with whatever name they had carved into it over a few lackluster words of their life.
Nicholas Arc did not want his son to be a face without a name.
So, much to the dismay of the entire family at the table, Jaune's father did not take lightly to those words.
"Don't be absurd, Jaune! No, there's no chance I'm going to allow you to pursue this."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I'm stopping you from killing yourself!"
And then, Jaune expressed how his father's decision was 'just not fair!'.
"...I'll train, Dad! Every single day, I'll work blood, sweat and tears just prove to you that I can be a Huntsman!"
"Maybe if you hadn't been slacking off and playing video games for the past seven years of your life we could have enrolled you into a prep school like Signal or Siren - but no! 'Maybe next year' you would tell us every single time we would ask!" Nicholas explained, beyond simply frustrated. "You cannot just become a Hunstsman on a whim!"
Jaune's own head dropped at the truth of his father's harsh words. He had been... hesitant in the past, to say the least, But in recent times, his desire to become... somebody had grown immensely.
It's as if one day, he woke up under the soft sheets of his bed and realised that he was wasting his life - his time on Remnant to do something good for the world!
No longer to be the sorry kid who roleplayed with his friends about doing something that he could have really achieved.
No longer the introverted idiot who stayed in his room every single day to play video games - only coming out when forced by his sisters.
No more being a loser; a nobody.
Head shooting upwards, Jaune's eyes were bright with determination instead. "I want to be a hero... like my grandfather - your father!"
Unlike his son, Nicholas' head remained down, "Yes my father was a great hero..." before rocketing upwards to reveal his gloomy, dark eyes that were once a brilliant blue. "and he died... without so much as a goodbye!"
Standing up straight, the Arc patriarch bore his sad gaze onto his only son, "I don't want to lose you like that, Jaune."
Then onto each one of his sisters and his mother, "I don't want to lose any of you like that."
Jaune was at a loss for words. Their father rarely showed any signs of weakness, on account of being the pillar of solidarity that he and his sisters could rely on at any point in time. But... in this state, he seemed almost as desperate as the young teen himself.
But the irritation he felt outweighed pity, a gurgling sense of rage overwhelming his logic.
"Graagh! Fine!" Jaune screamed, storming off to the other side of the table and intending to break past the wall of blonde hair that blocked his path.
Without nearly any resistance, Jaune succeeded. For some reason, that hurt him.
But to Jaune's relief, a firm hand found itself onto his shoulder and halted him.
The owner of said hand was Sapphire Arc, the oldest sibling. She had always been the one to end fights that he, or any of his sisters, started thanks to her unnatural ability to take control and assess.
However, now she looked indecisive and hesitant to say anything - her eyebrows furrowed in worry and uncertainty alike.
"Jaune... I just want you to know, that whatever you decide, I'll be there to support you. Even if you make a dumb choice - and knowing you, you probably will - know that we all will still love you," Sapphire told him.
The heartfelt statement received a chorus of nods from her sisters, even Coral - who's book was placed to the side of her instead of it being open and her attention drawn to the contents of its page.
His mother still looked to be in a dilemma about the situation, but after glancing to the sight of her husband, Juniper Arc smiled sadly and bobbing her head slowly.
Suddenly, a weight befell Jaune's midsection as the youngest Arc, Amber, threw herself onto her older brother.
"Please..." she whispered. And even though no other words were said Jaune felt the warm liquid dripping from her eyes and through his black Pumpkin Pete's hoodie.
The hopeful Huntsman could never truly bring himself to be angry at his sisters.
Even when Sapphire and Saffron kept dragging him to the kitchen and into the backgarden to learn how to cook and do laundry.
Even when Hazel and Jade often made him their personal pack mule on shopping trips to the village mall.
Even when Amber and Lavender begged him to play board games with them.
Even when Coral forced a cat-maid outfit onto him in order to recreate a particular scene for one of her novels.
...
Alright maybe not the last one, but the point still stood!
Sapphire was right, his sisters did love him and he reciprocated it dearly.
Taking away the arms that Jaune found out he subconsciously wrapped around Amber's crying form, he lightly hugged his sister before passing her onto the eldest Arc sibling.
With newfound determination, Jaune stood slightly taller and eyes were a little bit sharper.
Albeit wet from the threat of tears welling up, but sharper nonetheless.
He marched to the exit of log cabin - a place betwixt the forests of frontier Mistral - turning back to realise if he really wanted to go on this path, he had to be prepared.
His eyes darted to the wall, a display where the ancestral blade of the Arc lineage hung proudly. It almost called out to him, Jaune felt.
Wanting to be taken with him. Jaune's grasp slowly surrounded the royal-blue leather hilt of Crocea Mors and it - no, she - whispered beautifully.
Strapping and securing it to his waist-side and taking a half-full rucksack of various items, Jaune ran through the door leading to the outside world.
He was going to become a Huntsman, whether his family thought he was or not.
Turning around, half a hundred meters away from the door, he declared, "I'll be back! Next to you see me, I'll be kicking ass and taking names! I will be a hero, and I give you all my word!"
Because after all, an Arc never went back on their word.
As their son dashed into the thick green forest, Juniper Arc turned to her husband, placing her hand onto his arm in a comforting manner.
"Nicky, you should really stop him. What if he gets hurt?"
Nicholas tore the distant look he had from the exit Jaune had gone through, now meeting the eyes of his loving wife.
"Perhaps... this is what he needs. Once he learns that the word out there," he said - pointing towards the door, "is not what he thinks he's like, he'll come running back home. And I promise I'll be there for him when he does."
To reassure his claim, the bearded man placed a small kiss onto his wife's lips.
"Do you really think he'll come back to us?" Juniper questioned, still hung up from her son's actions.
"Absolutely," Nicholas stated, not quite giving his full word.
His son way past the barrier that separated the Arc's from the wild, Nicholas could not have been more wrong.
/*-*/
It was a beautiful day outside. Birds were twittering and vegetation was thriving while black beasts on the ground roared and swiped crazily.
"HOLY SHIT!" Cursed Jaune as he barely managed to dodge an ivory white claw that would have torn a chunk out of him if he didn't move.
The wilderness had given him a whole two-day 'no Grimm' mercy period in which it was just hiking, camping and eating Pumpkin Pete's. Unfortunately for the blonde, perhaps possibly also fatally, his worn combat boots had created somewhat of a ruckus thanks to the large number of leaves that came under them - alerting a small, but nearby, pack of Beowolves.
Damn his inability (and also lack of need) to buy stealthy footwear!
Turning to face the wild beasts that threatened his life, he counted three black masses in the shape of wolves - including the one that had just did a one-eighty to stalk it's prey once more after it's failed charge.
To Jaune's credit, he had actually managed to force Crocea Mors' sharp edge through the midsection of the Grimm who was now furthermost, hiding behind the non-wounded members of its pack. And, for all the slack these monsters get for being 'mindless', they sure knew how to survive.
Whether natural instincts meant cognitive function or not, Jaune decided to leave that to the many scholars dedicated towards the subject.
As an additional note, Jaune probably used up all the good luck and karma built up over his fifteen years of walking on Remnant in a swing of good fortune.
He also hoped that the Gods accepted debt because he'd like to loan out a little more luck to finish off the rest of the pack.
I mean, sure, he knew some swordplay thanks to the grand total of five lessons his dad made him take but those were to combat people, not creatures of Grimm!
Why were Huntsmen even teaching people how to fight other people instead of Grimm anyway?!
The answer to his question came in the form of a clumsy roll through the mud, staining is already bloody blue jeans. Wait - blood?!
Oh Gods, he was bleeding!
Since when did he start bleeding?
The answer, in this instance, took the appearance of bone meeting steel and an ear-splitting screech as Crocea Mors cried from its surface being struck.
It's resulting force steadily pushing Jaune back, forcing the young teen to slide the weight off quickly.
Teeth, a pure white and all sharp, showed themselves to Jaune as the Beowolf growled menacingly - indicating it's oncoming attack as Jaune noticed.
Having grown the balls to neither roll or block, the teen knight shoved Crocea Mors through the black beast's exposed stomach as it flew through the air.
Crocea Mors gleaned under the sunlight as her edge penetrated the mass of coal flesh, however, the momentum from the jump forced Jaune to stumble backwards as the corpse slid off the sword.
It emanated a whimper from its maw, or as close to a whimper as the satanic monster could muster before dissipating to a fistful of ash that drifted in the light wind.
...Did he do it?
He killed an honest to Gods Grimm!
Jaune laughed at the face of Fate, who told him he couldn't.
Man, he killed one Grimm and left the other to probably bleed out and die!
The blonde could die happy at this point, out of the three...
There had been three Grimm.
Jaune's happy expression faded, instead leaving his face contorted in a mixture of pain and disappointment - in mostly himself - as a claw tore through Jaune's black hoodie and pink flesh.
He really should have put on some armour.
Though, looking at the wound, it was deep. Mortally deep. Maybe even steel wouldn't have stopped it from ripping through the blonde.
Then the pained kicked in.
The immeasurable amount of it, coursing and pulsating throughout his body that not even the adrenaline from earlier could numb.
It screamed at him to get away, but the twisted irony is that he could not comply with the demand as the boy could no longer feel the legs underneath from him.
Red was all Jaune could see through his once blue eyes. His eyes were still blue, of course, he just meant the blood - oh Gods the blood.
There was so much.
It hurt so much.
Was his father right?
He was, Jaune knew.
He was unprepared and so, he was going to die - just like his father prophecised.
His family - what would the rest of them think?
Would his mother cry?
He knew Amber would, the feeling of her tears on his clothes still fresh on his mind.
Sorry, Amber, maybe Arc's do sometimes go back on their word...
Is that... Uncle Vlad? Cross the river and enter the light? Yeah, sure, why not - what?
No! Fuck off Uncle Vlad, Jaune Arc wasn't going to give into Death's door that easily.
Even with any form of mobility scraped from the young Arc's arsenal, Jaune used the last remnants of energy keeping him conscious to yell at the top of his voice:
"SOMEBODY HELP ME!"
"..."
...Silence. Not even the forest replied to his mortal plea.
There was no help; nobody would come.
There was only death, pain, and suffering - all three awaiting him.
This time, Jaune internally apologised to his father and his family.
To anyone he thought would care, he sent his inside thoughts and prayers.
He was sorry to everyone.
But mostly..?
He was sorry for himself.
Just some loser kid pretending to be a hero in the end, wasn't he?
And as the young Arc took the thought into the darkness with him, he could have sworn the mocking grin of the creature above being wiped away by the silvery steel of a blade across it's neck.
Ending notes:
I actually drafted a beginning where Jaune was already on the road, but this felt like fewer plotholes would have and fewer questions would have been asked.
Uh oh, looks like our golden-haired hero's on the ropes of death, but who's the savior?
Don't worry, we'll get to actually babysitting next chapter. And I swear the other chapters will be longer - this was just a prologue of sorts!
(EN FROM THE FUTURE: Also, I took the time to rewrite this - taking out a few previous inconsistencies - so I wonder if it's any better...)