Here we are again!
Cover Art: Jack Wayne
Chapter 7
The ferry to Vale didn't take as long as he'd thought it would. It didn't actually land in the city of Vale itself, but rather a village a little down the coast, only an hour or so by foot and generally still considered a part of the city. Not wanting to appear suspicious, Jaune booked himself onto a bus to save some time and entered the city with plenty of others, disembarking in the shopping district. It must have been the same way Yang and Ruby got to Vale on their day's off from Signal, except that Yang would get her motorcycle in time.
Being back in Vale was an odd experience, even if he hadn't thought it would be. He'd expected that it would feel like home, but it didn't. He hesitated to use the word `different` again, but it still applied. The city wouldn't change much in ten years, although some shops would close and others take their place. Most of the construction was already there and would be for a while. The main difference was that his friends weren't, and it was that which left the city feeling like just any other place. Home was where the heart was, after all. Maybe it was just that it wasn't Beacon.
In the end, it didn't matter. He wouldn't be staying for long if he could help it. The main goal was to find a way into the criminal underworld so he could have a fake ID created, and while he'd managed to avoid being asked for one so far thanks to Raven's portal taking care of international travel, that same luck wouldn't hold in Atlas. It would also be a stumbling block if he tried to get a job, open a bank account or visit a hospital.
More than that, he wanted to get it done quickly. Raven's portal was a windfall he hadn't expected but it came with complications – Qrow-shaped complications. After his little display, there was almost no chance he wouldn't be reporting to Ozpin. Him beating Qrow wasn't exactly instant cause for suspicion, but it would raise an eyebrow – and then raise it even higher - if he was spotted in Vale. Raven having a strong bandit was one thing; Raven's strong bandit being in Vale, ahead of Qrow, was another. Ozpin would have to be stupid not to be at least a little suspicious of that.
Even if Qrow flies the whole way, I'll have beaten him here by at least a day. If possible, I'd best be out before he arrives and gives his report to Ozpin. He had a feeling he'd feature heavily in it and the last thing he wanted was Ozpin finding him here. In a few months would be fine, just so long as it looked like he might have walked the distance.
Paying for a fake ID wouldn't be hard. Finding one who could make it? That was harder. He tried to remember how he'd managed it the first time with getting into Beacon, but for the life of him couldn't. He'd just been moaning about it somewhere and someone had heard him, smelled an easy opportunity for profit, and come over. Jaune wasn't sure the man had even expected the fake ID to work at the time, but it had.
He had a better idea now, however, and made his way deeper into the city. Even if it had technically been three years or so since he'd lived in Vale, he could still remember it easily and his feet took him down familiar paths. A few people looked at his choice of clothes with some surprise, likely recognising them as being from Vacuo and showing their curiosity, but no one acted out over it and he didn't draw any real suspicion. The city was peaceful and quiet, as it had been when he'd first joined Beacon, before the White Fang, the Vytal Festival and Cinder.
It was the city he'd always wanted it to go back to, back when he was just a bumbling member of Team JNPR being dragged out by Nora to the latest pancake place, always with Ren and Pyrrha in tow, laughing at Nora's escapades.
But this wasn't the city he knew, and that reality hit hard when he stood before a boarded up and abandoned building. Rather than brightly lit neon signs showing it to be `The Club`, the sign above the door proclaimed it as a bank, though now out of business, up for sale and partially condemned.
Junior wasn't in business yet.
Well… shit.
That was more of a problem than he cared to admit. Jaune stood before the building and bit his lip, not quite afraid but now a little more anxious. Junior had been his main plan here, and about the only member of the underground he knew – and even then, only thanks to Yang's stories. The only other thief was Torchwick, and good luck finding him, if he was even a famous thief at this point. Wasn't the whole point of time travel that he could use his knowledge? Fat lot of good that was doing him.
"Relax, Jaune," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "There are other ways to do this."
If Junior was out, then others would be in – no one he knew by name, but crime lords and other people would be filling his shoes. It wasn't like crime hadn't existed until Junior and Torchwick rocked up; they'd just taken over.
Obviously, the fastest way to find them would be prisons or police, but since he didn't want to make a terrible name for himself, he couldn't exactly break them out. The whole point of this was to be subtle, not to strap a sign saying `Notice me, Ozpin` to his chest and run around screaming like a headless chicken. On that note, he scratched the back of his hand, grateful for the leather gloves that concealed Salem's mark.
Still, he had to find someone who could make this ID. Jaune sighed, ashamed and a little embarrassed to admit he was out of ideas. "Yang or Blake would know where to go, but what do I know? I only broke the law by lying to get into Beacon. Think, Jaune. Think."
Maybe finding a drug dealer would be an idea. A crazy one, especially since he didn't want anything like that, but he at least knew they tended to gather late at night on the streets, and maybe he could pay them for some information. It was a poor idea, but it was better than nothing. From what he'd heard on news channels when he was in Beacon, most drug dealers worked for suppliers – and those were as good as criminals already, right? If you could smuggle narcotics into Vale, you probably had the ability to forge an ID, or knew someone who could.
It was while he was lost in thought that he felt an odd yet familiar sensation wash over him. Odd in that it wasn't natural; familiar in that he recognised it instantly and his instincts, honed in life or death struggles, flared to life. Nothing was before him, the street being empty except for him, and yet his mind knew that was not the case.
When fingers touched his hip, his hand shot out – catching onto flesh and bone. He gripped the wrist he had trapped in his hand hard, earning a yelp from the girl who seemed to materialise in front of him. A pickpocket – another pick-pocket, yet instead of Sun's exuberance, this one had some training and a Semblance to go along with it, invisibility or something similar. Jaune shook his head and regarded her for the first time. When he did, his eyes widened and his hand clenched instinctively.
Bones cracked.
The girl screamed.
Several people across the road looked his way. Some tutted, others shook their heads, but they all hurried away, not wanting to get between the scary man and some nameless child on the street. For it was a child he had gripped in one hand, the situation so achingly similar to the time when Sun tried to pick-pocket him. The world didn't change, after all. Orphans would be everywhere.
But this was different and Jaune's wide eyes stared, fingers clenching instinctively and squeezing the girl's wrist even tighter, forcing her bones to grate together and causing her to cry fitfully. "P-Please," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-"
His hand tightened again, without him really meaning to. She cut off with a whimper.
Tan skin, thin limbs and frightened reddish eyes. Everything about her would have earned his sympathy, his compassion, except for two telling things; the Semblance she'd used to try and sneak up on him, and secondly, her hair – a pastel green in colour. The facts worked their way through his mind, not that he needed them to, for he knew her immediately, even ten or more years younger. His wide eyes stared down on a familiar person, a familiar enemy.
Emerald Sustrai…
His breath came out harshly. He didn't see a young girl before him, seven or eight years or so and struggling to survive. Instead, he saw the cruel smirk of a girl much older as she stood beside Cinder and gloated of what they'd done to Beacon. He saw one of the people responsible for the attack, for the fall of Beacon, for Pyrrha's death.
Cinder's plan would fall apart if Emerald died now, wouldn't it? It would be an easy way to, if not stop Cinder, at least make her life significantly harder. All he had to do was kill the girl in front of him; not a difficult task given how defenceless she was. She couldn't stop him.
All he had to do was kill a little girl.
"Please don't hurt me," Emerald whimpered. Tears stained her face already as she hung limply from his hand. She was all skin and bone. "I-I'm sorry…"
It was hard to lessen his grip on her; so very hard. He didn't dare release her entirely for fear she'd flee, but he did activate his Semblance and push some of his aura into her, soothing the pain in her wrist. She felt it and gasped.
It's not her, he told himself, eyes clenched shut and teeth gritted together. He was angry, yes, but more at himself than anything else. It was Emerald, but it wasn't the woman who had destroyed his life – not yet. From what little he'd learned Emerald had been an orphan before she was picked up by Cinder, though he had no idea when or where. Well, it looked like he had the `where` now.
But no matter what she would become, she was a young girl at the moment and he'd just broken her wrist with his sudden shock. And to think of killing her; what kind of monster was he? No one would forgive him it. Not Pyrrha, not Ruby, and certainly not he once the rage faded and he was faced with the dead body of an innocent child. The thought of it made him sick. It was that which allowed him to slowly calm down, and to feel his own regret. He concentrated on his Semblance and flooded her body with more of his aura, easing her pain.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered. The words weren't very convincing, given what he'd just done and how he'd reacted to her, but Emerald didn't argue, probably because it would have been hopeless either way, or maybe because she just didn't want to make him angry. "You're a pick-pocket, right?" he asked. When she didn't answer he gave her a little shake, making it clear he wanted a response.
"Y-Yes."
"And you live in Vale?"
She nodded weakly.
Well, it was obvious enough. Her Semblance would be useful for it, especially since she only affected the person she focused on. Everyone else would have seen her walk up to try and take his money, but passed it off as something acceptable, since, if it wasn't, he'd have done something. I wonder if this is how she met Cinder. That woman would recognise the usefulness of a Semblance like this instantly. And then Emerald would be recruited, and in time would become one of Cinder's greatest assets, a figure would be instrumental in the framing of Yang and the fall of Beacon, along with numerous other crimes.
He'd not been wrong when he thought killing her would fix a lot of things, for it would. Cinder would find other means and other tools, but robbing her of Emerald? It would be a blow.
But he couldn't kill her. He couldn't become that kind of person. It would be no better than what I accuse Ozpin of. Worse, in fact. It would be sacrificing an innocent girl for the greater good of a future that she can't be held responsible for. There had to be another way.
With a sigh, he cut off his aura to her, allowing her enough freedom to move her wrist and discover that it had been healed. Her wide eyes moved from it to him, not understanding how, why, or what might happen to her next.
"Are you hungry?"
It worked with Sun, so why not here? Emerald's stomach grumbled.
Perfect.
/-/
It was an odd thought that crossed his mind, if he'd end up meeting everyone he knew beforehand and buying or giving them food at least once. Ren and Nora had his supplies in Mistral and now both Sun and Emerald had sat opposite him eating food he'd bought, though the situations couldn't have been more different. More trusting and open, Sun had stuffed his face with food.
Emerald was far more guarded. She picked at it with her fingers but didn't dare eat. Her shoulders were stiff, the girl prepared to bolt at the slightest opportunity and yet desperately afraid to, fearing what he would do if he caught her. Even after healing her, it was clear the pain and shock of what he'd done so suddenly had terrified her. He probably looked like a monster, unnaturally strong and quick and now focused intently on her.
That he smiled didn't put her at ease. "I said I'm not going to hurt you. Is your wrist okay? It should be healed."
The girl cradled it in her lap, along with her hand, but at his insistence she moved it.
"It looks like it's a lot better. I didn't mean to hurt you." Not quite a lie, not quite the truth. "But I'm hoping a meal can work as an apology. You can eat; it's not poisoned. I've been with you the whole time and that was cooked in the kitchens here. I don't think a place like this would dare serve bad food."
Logic or hunger won Emerald over and she poked at her food a little, a selection of vegetables and mashed potato with beef and turkey on the side. It was a big meal, probably bigger than she'd ever had, but even so she didn't touch it. That was probably a bad sign, reluctance based either on a lack of trust for him, or a bad experience she'd had before. It could have been either, or maybe both.
Ugh, this isn't working very well. Sun was a lot more trusting.
She thought he was going to hurt her. Hell, he had no idea what she thought he was going to do and he had a feeling he'd prefer it that way. A young girl alone on the streets cornered and dragged out for a meal by a mysterious older man. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe it would be better to go with the truth.
"I'm not just doing this as an apology for hurting you. I need something in Vale and I was hoping you'd be willing to help me get it. I'd be willing to pay you." He brought out some lien and laid it on the table. Emerald eyed it with obvious panic and trembled. "It's nothing you'd need to do or be put through," he assured, more than a little disturbed a girl so young could think it. "I need to find someone who can make me a fake ID that'll hold up if anyone looks at it. I need someone who can make one for me and-"
"A forger…" Emerald's voice was quiet, nervous and clearly afraid. Her eyes didn't meet his, locking down onto the food in front of her. He saw her swallow, and not just from fear but hunger, too. She was a far cry from the confident girl he'd seen in the future.
"Yes, that's right," he said, keeping his own voice soft and warm. "I'm not going to hurt you, at least not on purpose. I just need a guide to take me to the right people or to take me to someone who might know more. I'd be happy to pay you for it."
Nervously, her eyes traced up to meet his. "That's it…?"
"That's it," he promised, smiling as best he could. He nodded to her plate. "But eat your food before that. You're hungry, I can tell."
The final assurance might not have meant much, but Emerald's control snapped. She wasn't polite, nor was she quiet, but as she dug into the lukewarm food, Jaune couldn't help but let out a long sigh of relief.
It was a step in the right direction.
/-/
The smiling man watched her eat.
Emerald had no idea what to make of the man but knew better than to argue. He was odd and warm and friendly, but many other people had been, and she'd seen other street rats taken in by their kind words and gestures. There'd been that girl a few streets down who went off with a kind older man who bought her food and clothing. She'd come back broken and sobbing, never quite the same again. She'd killed herself soon after. Emerald had seen it happen and gotten first pick over what scant belongings the wretch had. She'd even taken the knife and used it to defend herself once or twice.
Life on the streets of Vale was rough. She'd lost the knife a little later, though it bought her a chance to escape one of the big boys who wanted her body. She'd left it stuck in his thigh as she ran. Now, she was faced with someone far stronger than that, who could squeeze so hard her bones cracked and who could move faster than she could see.
This was bad. Even at eight years of age, she knew that this was very bad. Ever since she'd seen that first girl broken, Emerald had known better than to trust people's kindness. Not that she'd had much of a choice here with the smiling man.
Ah, screw it. If she was going to get played with and killed, she might as well go out on a full stomach. The food barely had the time to touch her tongue as she wolfed it down, but what little did exploded in her mouth with flavours she'd never tasted before. Someone had given her a bit of pie once, actually out of kindness and nothing more. It was a tiny piece of crust pastry, but the taste had stuck with her for over a year. This? This was much better, and it was all hers.
It was the brown sauce – the gravy-stuff. It tasted so thickly of meat, and there was actual meat alongside it, and it was tender and soft, not hard and stringy like the cut-offs thrown out by the butchers. Not that she got much of a shot at those. The best spots were held by the toughest and meanest street kids, but she'd been able to use her powers once or twice to trick them out of it. Those grimy bits of meat were nothing like this, though. And the plants weren't rotten or eaten through with worms.
Emerald's stomach started to hurt halfway through, not used to so much good food, but she forced herself to keep eating until it was all gone. She licked the plate clean, too, ignoring the disgusted looks from one or two moneybags nearby. Fuck 'em. They got to eat this stuff all the time.
"Was it good?" her new owner – might as well call him what he was, right? – asked. He smiled down on her and she might have even believed he was genuinely interested if she didn't know better. Yet again her eyes strayed past him, to the exit. She was fast but would have to brush by him when she left the table. She'd never make it and feared too much what he'd do if she tried.
Some people liked that from their girls. It gave them an excuse to punish them. Well she wasn't going to play his game – no way. She nodded once instead, eyes low and fixed onto the table.
"Would you like a dessert?"
Emerald's scowl increased in intensity. She'd seen them, of course. She'd even tasted ice-cream once, though it was off the floor after some kid dropped it and then walked away crying. Why was that even an issue? It was just on the floor; it was still good. She was full right now but had liked the taste. And, to be fair, the more time she spent here, the less she'd have to spend doing other things with him. She nodded.
"Is that a yes?"
She nodded again.
"I can't hear you."
"Yes," she whispered, red-faced, knees locked together under the table. "I'd like some."
When he asked what she wanted, Emerald had nothing to say – not knowing how to read the menu, nor wanting to admit it. He could tell her words had come to an end so he ordered for her, something called a hot chocolate fudge cake with ice-cream. "It's good," he assured her with a wink.
Why are you doing this? She wanted to ask in return.
But she didn't. She didn't dare make him angry. The smiling man scared her, but she was more afraid of what he'd be like when he stopped smiling.
He didn't need to explain himself and it wouldn't matter if he did. He'd picked her and she hadn't been fast enough to run away or strong enough to break free, so, by the rules of the street, that meant he could do what he wanted with her. If that involved a little kindness before the pain, so be it. Who was she to complain?
But when this cake of his came? Emerald didn't ever think she'd tasted anything so wonderful before. She couldn't resist the sound that came from her lips when she tasted it, nor the way her tongue danced, and her eyes lit up.
If I'm going to die, I want to die remembering this, she thought.
It seemed like a fair trade for her life.
/-/
She doesn't trust me, Jaune thought, walking down the street with Emerald's hand in his – more so he could keep hold of her than anything. She'd looked at his hand like it was a snake when he offered it but gave in with the same sense of finality and surrender she had ever since he'd caught her. Whatever she thought he wanted, she'd accepted it was going to happen either way. It felt so wrong, for any child, but doubly so for her.
Little wonder Cinder had won her loyalty so easily. She'd shown interest and taken the girl away from this life. Compared to this, even working with the Grimm must have seemed a blessing.
It was also much different from how Sun acted, though he supposed that might have had something to do with what Sun said, about how he was looked after by bigger boys and such. The orphans in Vacuo looked to have banded together, or maybe Sun was in a gang of sorts. Emerald was on her own and the worse for it.
Still, she followed his instructions and pointed the way, leading him further and further off the busy streets of Vale and into darker and more abandoned ones. While she could have been leading him into a trap, he didn't feel too worried. He kept his aura to hand, swirling around him and ready to react to an attack from any direction.
"Does the forger live around here?" he asked.
"Mr Xiong," the girl whispered.
"Is he a forger?"
She shook her head.
"What is he?"
"King."
King…? He doubted the man they were going to see was royalty, which meant Emerald probably didn't know better, or that it was a title. He was probably the leader of one of the criminal organisations, then. Maybe even the biggest. Meeting someone so influential would be risky, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. If he wanted a decently made fake ID, then only the best could provide it – and those who were good at their job knew how to keep their meddling hidden from people like Ozpin. Better a professional than an amateur.
"Alright, lead on."
Emerald did so, eventually leading him to a staircase that seemed to go down underground beside a fancy restaurant with not a single customer or waiter in sight. The fact it was so opulent and in such a rough area, without a single sign of damage of vandalism, told him the owner was someone to be feared.
"Down here?" he asked.
Emerald nodded.
"I'll probably need you to vouch for me," he said, tugging her with him. He made sure to keep the girl behind him, however, prepared to use his body as a shield if needs be. The staircase evened out at the bottom, revealing an opening into a wide, open space. There were a few people in it playing cards around a round table. More drunk and smoked at a ramshackle bar. All noticed his arrival and paused.
They weren't as well-dressed as Junior's gang that much was for sure. They wore suits, but it was a mix-match of greys, blues, blacks and whites, often with colourful shirts that were left untucked. Some pointed at him and laughed, while others reached for barely concealed weapons.
Jaune held his ground, refusing to be intimidated. For good measure, he pushed the hilt of his sword forwards, not drawing it but showing that he was armed. "I'm looking for Mr Xiong," he called.
"On what reason?" one of the quieter men demanded. He was better dressed, sober, and watched Jaune with wary eyes.
"Business, I hope. I need something procuring and I've been told he's a good source." Releasing his sword, he showed his wallet instead. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene right under Ozpin's nose. "I'm prepared to pay, of course."
"How'd you even find this place?"
It was impossible to keep Emerald hidden, especially since she was stood behind him. Although his eyes didn't give it away, the man did notice her, and easily connected the dots. "I see. Rats shouldn't be talking about their betters, but I guess it can't be helped. Business, you say?"
"Yes."
"Mr Xiong isn't in the business of wasting his time. I hope this is good."
"I want a fake ID for myself," Jaune explained. There didn't seem much point in keeping it hidden and hopefully the ease of the task would open some doors. "It has to be good enough to work internationally, but I'm sure your boss would know someone who could manage that. Again, I'm willing to pay."
The man nodded, apparently pleased with the answer. "Wait here. I'll go and speak to Mr Xiong."
The man left through a back door a moment later, and with his absence the sound in the room returned to its normal levels. Most of the people went back to their own conversations and games, though it was perhaps inevitable that not everyone would. Two men, one in a white suit with a blue shirt and the other in a grey suit with black, approached him with wide smiles.
Jaune returned it. "Can I help you?"
"Maybe you can, maybe you can't," the man in the white suit laughed. "Not my place to decide, though. Not and risk the boss' wrath; just wondering about that sword of yours. You know how to use it?"
"There wouldn't be much point me wearing it if I didn't."
"Not as useful as a gun, though, is it?" the other man asked, pushing back his jacket and revealing one holstered on his hip, directly into his trousers of all places. It would normally have been quite the intimidating sight, but he wasn't a civilian, had aura, and these two were within reaching distance of him.
"It depends on the person, I guess. Not so useful at range, sure, but up close it's quiet and doesn't run out of ammo." He kept any sign of threat out of his voice, adopting a friendly tone instead. "But guns have their place; I've just never been very good with them."
"Heh, they're not for everyone." The jacket fell back, and the atmosphere lightened. "How about that little tagalong you got? Yours?"
"Yes." He pulled Emerald behind him a little. "Is that a problem?"
"No, no."
The two men backed away, sensing they'd moved onto dangerous territory. He couldn't afford to let Emerald out of his sight right now. It was possible that the moment he did, she'd run into Cinder and become a weapon once more. He couldn't – wouldn't – kill her, but that didn't mean he was prepared to let her become an enemy.
"Mr Xiong will see you," the man from before called, stood now at the open door. He was flanked by two more, armed and dressed immaculately. Jaune nodded and pushed past the other two, holding Emerald's hand and pulling her close to him in case they tried anything. They didn't, and he soon found himself being led down a much plusher corridor lined with dark wood walls and a red carpet.
"Nice place you have."
"Mr Xiong likes his comforts. I shouldn't have to warn you that if you try anything, you'll die – you and the girl."
"I'm just here for business. I won't cause a scene." He wasn't Yang, for crying out loud.
The man nodded and led him a little further. He stopped them at a set of double doors. "He's in here. Knock before you enter." he said before leaving.
Jaune raised a hand to do so but paused. He looked down to Emerald, who still wouldn't meet his eyes but looked increasingly alarmed, now not so much at him, but the one behind this door. This couldn't be easy for her, neither trusting him nor being in the presence of these people. "Stay calm and leave everything to me," he whispered. "If anything goes wrong, get down and out of the way. I won't let anything happen to you."
Emerald didn't look convinced, in a way that said she didn't think he could stop anything happening if it did.
Jaune winked. "Trust me. I won't let them do anything."
After a long moment of hesitation, Emerald nodded once.
Jaune raised a hand and knocked on the door.
"Enter," a firm voice called.
Mr Xiong was a large man of middling age and greying hair. He was clean-shaven but wrinkled with a stern frown and sterner eyes. Dressed in a dark-blue suit he sat behind a huge desk with several ornaments on. Behind him lay a fireplace, above that a portrait of a woman. The room was flanked with bookcases, three men in suits, armed, stood on either side. In the centre, before the desk, were two chairs.
"Mr Xiong," Jaune said, bowing his head in respect. While he might not have known how to talk to criminals, he could guess it was like talking to Miss Goodwitch, only that you had to be twice as ingratiating and throw money about. "Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice. I appreciate your time."
"Hmph. My man tells me you need an ID."
"That's right, sir."
"Call me King. This is my son, Hei," he gestured to a young boy Jaune hadn't noticed before. Well, young might have been a push since he was sixteen or so, but the point was there. "Everyone around here calls him Junior."
Jaune nodded. So, this was young-Junior. He didn't look much like what he'd have expected. Then again, he was a kid.
Hei returned the nod with one of his own. "A pleasure to- argh!" he fell, clutching his knee. Even Jaune jumped as Mr Xiong – or King – brought his metal cane back, which he'd driven into his son's knee with simple brutality.
"Shut up, Junior," he snapped. "You're here to watch and listen, not to talk. You're as bad as your mother. You should learn a thing or two if you don't want to end up like her. Got it?"
"Y-Yes, fa-King. Yes, my King."
King scoffed and rolled his eyes. Not a single of the men in the room moved to help Hei and the boy stumbled to his feet with a great deal of agony, taking his position by the fireplace with tears in his eyes. "Who might you two be, then?" he demanded. "I might be making you a new name, if the offer is good, but I'll not help anyone who doesn't give me their real one first."
"A pleasure to meet you, King. My name is Jaune Arc." It wouldn't mean much. If Xiong looked it up, he'd find a seven-year-old boy in Ansel and assume he'd been tricked.
"And the girl?"
Jaune nudged Emerald.
"E-Emerald."
The man's eyes narrowed. It was an imperceptible thing and all the warning he received, but it was enough for Jaune. He caught the cane mere inches from Emerald's face, gripping it tightly in one hand. The girl fell back with a startled cry. Every man in the room reached for their weapon.
King raised an eyebrow, not surprised, but perhaps impressed. "Children should be taught to respect their betters," he said.
"Teaching and discipline would be my responsibility," Jaune returned, releasing the cane and giving it a firm shove back.
King took it and sat down. "True, I suppose. Very well, I'll allow it. Take a seat – both of you. I'd offer you a drink, but I doubt you'd take it and I'm not wasting fine brandy." He poured his own, downed it, and slammed the crystal glass back down. "So, a fake ID? I can have one of those made in minutes. Or rather I can have you added onto the database. It'll be your job to apply for an ID badge and all the other shit, but you won't face any problems when you try. The question is what's in it for me and whether you'll make it worth my time."
"Five thousand lien says I will," Jaune said. It was a good sum, not princely but more than fair. Of course, he didn't hold a hope the man would accept it. That would be stupid.
"Twenty."
"I don't have twenty-thousand and I'm not willing to work for you to clear such a debt. Six."
"You come here, barge into my home and make such stupid demands? You've got balls, my boy, but any animal can be neutered. Eighteen."
"This isn't going to end and there's a limit to what I can pay. Six and a half."
"What's your limit, then? Might as well safe us both the time. If it's not high enough, I'll have you throw out." King gestured to two of the men, who stepped forward. Jaune glared at them until they backed away.
"And have you demand every lien? I can't afford to leave here a pauper. This won't take any effort on your part, so it's almost all profit. I'll give you ten – but not a lien more. I can't afford it and I'll find someone else."
"You think there is anyone as powerful as me?"
"Maybe not, but I'm sure there are some as ambitious. They could use my lien."
King drew in a large breath, his nostrils flaring. "That's a dangerous claim, boy. I am not a man to be trifled with."
Jaune held his gaze. "With all due respect, King, neither am I."
"We'll see. Twelve is my final offer. Take it or fuck off."
"Twelve it is," Jaune said, reaching into his wallet and drawing it out. It would leave him with perilous little remaining, but he only had to get to Atlas. Once he was a huntsman, he could earn more. He placed the lien on the table, but King didn't reach for it. He nodded his head instead and it was Junior who came around the table, stumbling a little on his leg. He moved quickly, afraid any hesitation might earn him worse.
With shaking hands, he counted through the money. "It's all here, my King. Twelve thousand to the lien."
"Good. If you'd tried to stiff me even a single one, I'd have kill you here. Put it in the safe." King ignored Junior's response and brought up a terminal on his desk. "I have someone waiting to add you to Vale's database. He'll need a few simple details, so I'll leave you in his hands. Make it quick."
The man on the other end of the call stammered nervously but quickly ran through a list of questions, which Jaune answered as best he could. He gave his age at twenty, it being close enough to the truth and maybe even accurate. The hacker had already picked out a birth location, past and more – painting him as an orphan from a frontier town who had emigrated when it fell to Grimm. Most of his job history had therefore been lost. It was only a few major details he had to provide, and just to make the cover story better.
"I'll need a name," the hacker said at last.
He'd already thought of one ahead of time. He was too used to his to change it much and no one would piece him as being the same person as someone ten to fifteen years younger than himself, even with it. "Jaune Ashari."
Well, Asol had said he was family, no? It wasn't like he was stealing the name – just claiming his place among the tribe at last.
The hacker accepted it and finalised the information, inserting it into the database and even providing proof for both he and King, bringing up basic census information, which now included a Jaune Ashari in its lists.
"Good work," King said. "You'll get your payment via the usual channels."
"Tha-"
He ended the call. "Well, I think I've kept my end of the bargain. When the King demands something, it gets done. Remember that." King looked back over his shoulder. "You remember it too, brat."
"Yes, my King," Junior replied, bowing. His hands were clenched into fists.
It was faster than it had been with his faked recommendation to Beacon, but maybe that was harder or perhaps in the future Vale would upgrade its security. Either way, if it worked to get him to Atlas, he'd be happy. There really was no way of testing it now and suggesting that King might short change him seemed an obvious way to end this meeting in bloodshed. He'd have to take it on faith, and if it didn't work? Well, he could always get his own back if he had to. He knew the way here and could tell the police that.
"Thank you, King. You're as good as your word." Jaune rose, motioned for Emerald to do the same, and ushered her toward the door. King must have made a gesture behind him, however, for two of his men stood there, blocking it.
"I am," Kind said, "Which is why I need to reiterate a point I made before. Business or not, I can't have some street rat telling anyone she meets on the street how to find me. You can leave, Mr Ashari, but the girl remains."
Jaune felt Emerald begin to shake. He placed both hands on her shoulders and drew her back into his waist, hoping it would calm her. It was a terrible sign that despite not trusting him in the slightest, she pressed against his legs, subconsciously seeking comfort in the stranger who had hurt her not two hours before. He glared at Xiong for it. "I thought we had a deal, King?"
"We do. And now I'm making you another deal. Don't get me wrong, boy, this isn't personal. It's simply business. If I let her get away with it, what's to stop the next one, and the next? How long before I have the authorities knocking on my door. I didn't get to this position by being gentle or taking risks. I got here by being a King." He slammed his cane down for emphasis. "Now, leave the girl behind and you may go. Make the right choice."
"The right choice?" Jaune looked down to Emerald, who for once looked back, with clear terror in her eyes. She was sure he was going to give her over, and why not? She wasn't anything to him and he didn't owe her anything. But if he did, and if Cinder got a hold of her, it would be the future all over again, wouldn't it? He'd decided against it with Sun, not wanting to change the future, but here, on something like this? Well, this was the future he wanted to change.
"Letting you have her wouldn't be the right choice, King," he said, nudging Emerald to the side a little, covering her with his body. "In fact, it would very much be the wrong one, not that I expect you to understand."
"That's a bold claim." King clicked his fingers and the men moved in. "But I'm King for a reason. What I want, I get. What I demand, I receive. And you, my boy, seem to be under the illusion that your opinion matters here. I hope you're prepared to pay the price."
"I guess I better be." His hand fell to Crocea Mors. "I can't afford to be stopped here." Jaune eyed the men about the room. "You don't want to do this. Please reconsider."
King's response was a click of his fingers.
The first man had only touched his gun when Jaune's fist impacted his face, twisting at the last to drive him back and through the double doors. He used the impact to reverse his momentum, grab the other by the arm when he reached for his own, and then twist the goon in front of him, turning them both to block any shots from behind. The body in his hand shook as they fired anyway, dying in a hail of blood. Emerald cried out in fear, having only just caught on to the sudden transition from words to violence. He backed into her, herding her away with his body until she was behind a pedestal atop which a statue stood. It was thick enough to withstand a few shots and he was their real target. "Stay there," he hissed, earning a frightened nod from the girl.
He took in the room instantly, trained by Pyrrha to do so. Six men, two down, four remaining – armed with handguns, Mr Xiong behind his desk suddenly less sure of himself, Junior behind him wide-eyed. His sheathe came up, deploying into his shield as he blocked several more shots, moving back to the centre of the room so Emerald would be out of the line of fire. The shield didn't cover his entire body but didn't have to. What shots went low bounced off his aura, impacting against him and hurting but not piercing flesh.
"Huntsman!" one of the goons cried in horror. The sudden realisation of what they were up against brought an immediate halt to the fight. Jaune wasn't sure if he didn't look the part or if it was something else, but Qrow had called him a bandit, too. Either way, strong-arming someone they thought was a petty criminal and doing the same to a huntsman who had aura, and might even have a Semblance, were very different things.
They weren't quite so confident now and Jaune flashed an easy smile. This really wasn't fair. He might as well have been a Beowolf in a kindergarten.
"Keep shooting!" King roared. "Huntsman or not, they all die in the end!"
He wasn't wrong and Jaune knew it. He'd seen enough people die to harbour such foolish notions and he was no longer the young man he was. Even so, it would take a damn sight more than four untrained mobsters to take him down. Yang would never let him live it down if it did. Dropping his shield, he charged forward and covered the distance between him and the shooters in only a few seconds. They spread out instinctively, making it harder for him to engage them all, but he put himself in the middle and forced them to risk the cross-fire.
"When surrounded, attack one of the flanks and break through, then you won't be surrounded," Pyrrha had always said. He did so, lunging at the first man on the left, who screamed and fired three quick blasts into his chest. They pinged off harmlessly but Crocea Mora didn't. The blade cut through the man's suit, through the bulletproof vest he wore underneath, and also through his body. Twisting, he again turned and used the dying man as a shield, kicking him off at the same time.
Even before he hit the ground he was on the next man, sweeping once to sever the arm between the elbow and wrist and again to cut his throat. There wasn't time or opportunity for mercy, not when even an injured man might call for aid. I can't afford to let Ozpin find me, not yet. People were killed in deals gone bad all over the criminal underworld. As long as his name wasn't attached to it, he was fine.
The third died a fraction of a second later but feet outside the broken door told him more had heard or been summoned by King. Jaune shot a glare to the man and a more worried glance towards Emerald, huddled by it. With a scowl he dispatched the last goon but rushed to the door, letting King live for now. He reached it before they arrived and killed the first through the remaining door, splintering wood and bone in a single swing. Fighting in the corridor would let them gun him down with weight of numbers, so he dragged the dying body back in and forced them to round the corner. The first to do so died. The second shared the same fate. The third, wiser than his fellows, hesitated.
It was King who broke the tableau, however. The man roared and stood from behind his desk, revealing a shotgun in his hand. It was a better make than any gun the goons used, huntsman-quality at the very least.
"You son of a bitch," he howled. "You dare to come here and mess with me, the King? I'll fucking kill you!" He cocked his weapon, aimed and fired.
Jaune didn't move. The shot had gone at least two metres wide.
"Damn you!" King roared, firing again and again, missing again and again. "I'll kill you. I'll kill you. You dare try to make a fool of me. No one makes a fool of me. Rarghh!" The shotgun clicked dry, the wood panelling to Jaune's side filled with holes smoking with dust. A quick glance to Emerald showed her focused on Xiong. Jaune spared her a wink, which he knew she didn't miss. If he was the lesser of two evils that was still better than what he'd probably looked like before. He'd take it.
"Looks like we're at a bit of a stalemate, Xiong. You can't kill me and honestly, I can keep this up all day. Or I could just turn around and finish you now. I'll give you a final chance to end this. Let us walk away and no one else has to die."
"Never! You're crossing a line if you thin-" He froze. "Urk." Blood bubbled from his lips. He glared back, behind him, to where Junior stood, shaking but holding a fire poker in one hand, which had been driven into Xiong's back. "Y-You treacherous brat," he hissed. "I should have killed you along with your whore mother."
"My mom wasn't a whore!" Hei Xiong screamed. He tore the weapon free and slammed it into the side of his father's face, if not killing him then knocking him out to bleed out and die. For good measure he stabbed down again and embedded the thing into the man's back. The boy panted harshly but looked oddly vindicated. When he looked up to meet Jaune's gaze, he managed a weak smile. "I'd like to take that offer if it's still available."
Hei `Junior` Xiong, huh? Well, this explained why he'd not been able to find the guy. "It is," he said. Jaune sheathed Crocea Mors and stepped aside, allowing some of the men to file in. They froze at the sight of the body, and at the boy stood over it.
"Let him leave," Hei called. "Let them both leave. I'm in charge now and I call them friend. They're free to go." He panted harshly. "There's going to be changes around here. Plenty of changes."
Like a club, uniforms and a new name. It wouldn't change all that much but Hei was perhaps a better man than his father, at least from what he'd seen. Jaune regarded the situation and what he'd just done and sighed. This really wasn't as subtle as he'd hoped his return to Vale would be, nor as peaceful. He could almost imagine Nora laughing herself hoarse. With a shake of his head, he made his way through the wreckage. He moved over to where Emerald hid and extended a hand.
/-/
Emerald stared at the smiling man's hand.
She then stared at the bodies on the floor. Death wasn't new to her, though this was a lot more sudden than she was used to. People killed each other all the time and some had tried to kill her, too. But she'd never seen someone do it so quickly and so easily, and with just a sword and shield. More than that, she'd never seen someone do it and then smile afterwards like nothing had happened. The fact he was smiling at her only made it harder to understand.
This man had just killed people – and not just people; Mr Xiong's people. They were the meanest, toughest and most feared people on the streets. Although, she thought as she looked at King's body, he wouldn't be feared quite so much anymore.
Who was the man who'd picked her up off the street? What did he want with her? Why had he not given her up and walked away while he had the chance? Why had he killed people for her?
Why had she used her special abilities to help him?
Nothing made sense.
But his hand was pointed toward her, inviting her to put hers in it once more. The last time he'd done that she'd only accepted because she knew he'd hurt her if she didn't. It had felt hot and frightening, all his power easily noticeable. It had been her placing her fate in his hand and giving him control. Now… now, she had no idea. He was still scary. He still terrified her. She still didn't know what he wanted with her or whether the smiles would stop and be replaced with something far worse.
But what she did know was that she'd just been a part of killing Mr Xiong, and that there would be a lot of people who wouldn't like that. They'd find her and hurt her, make her scream, and then surely kill her for it. Even if it was just an accident or she hadn't meant it, they'd kill her.
Unless she had someone around who could stop them…
The smiling man might do all those things and worse, but that was the thing, he might. He might not, too, and between certain death and uncertain death, there was only really one option to take. With a visible shake and an audible swallow, Emerald reached out and placed her hand in his. The much larger fingers dwarfed hers as it closed around her, tugging her up and against his legs once more.
Emerald had no idea who he was or what he wanted, but she knew she'd tied her fate to his, for better or worse.
"Come on," he whispered, leading her past and over the dead bodies, through dangerous men who parted left and right, afraid of the smiling man. "I think it's time we left Vale."
Jaune `Totally not Changing the Past` Arc, ladies and gentlemen. Come to Vale, see the sights, cause the usurpation of a criminal family, abduct a street rat and leave. Cue Ace Ventura parking scene; "Like a glove!"
So, yes, Jaune now has a follower. I know a lot of people were eager for the adoption of Sun, or of Ren and Nora, but I had someone else in mind and that's our dear Emerald, who I haven't really put much into writing in my other stories. I tried to do her justice here, though it was odd to write a child's pov where I'm purposefully trying to age her a little, to show how she's had to mature quickly, but while still retaining some elements of kidlike behaviour. The differences between her and Sun really come down to their upbringing, where Sun has the protection and camaraderie of his little pack, while Emerald is on her own.
Also, Jaune has no idea how frightening he looks to a child. I like the idea that he really thinks he's no different to how he was in Beacon at seventeen, but everyone else can see it, especially Emerald (and maybe even Qrow). Well, I suppose any huntsman or huntress would look incredible vs goons, though. For reference and so there isn't any misunderstanding of OP or not, these guys would literally be the quality of the goons Ruby fought in episode one.
They're definitely not Malachite quality.
Next Chapter: 26th May
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur
