Okay, so first off, love the response I got to the last little snack-chapter. Love it or hate it, glad it got some reaction out of you corpses.
That being said, to those who enjoyed it, I have to apologize but I don't think it'll make it into the canon of this story. That being said, it may remain as an Omake for a while, until I ponder some more on making a whole new story based around this idea. So rest assured, you shall not lack for mind-bending craziness.
So, it'll be there for a while longer before I remove it. I won't get rid of it, just tag it on to the end of this guy, so don't worry.
Alright, onto the chapter at hand. Just some disclaimers that are far more pertinent than reiterating that I DON"T OWN JACK SHIT!
This chapter was inspired by actual events, namely the history of South Africa and its former policy of Apartheid. To summarize, so that you can understand what's going on, for a time South Africa made 'Homelands' for some of its native ethnicities. These 'countries' (never recognized by the UN) were within the borders of SA, and were only marginally independent. For the most part, entirely dependent on the SA government for economic support, thereby being constantly in debt and some would argue worse off than being slaves.
I am NOT writing this as a criticism of South Africa. I am not trying to be political. I am just trying to give some background as objectively as I possibly can to a topic that deserves a hell of a lot more attention than I can give it here, and to hopefully make this work of FICTION more understandable.
Anyway, I am always open to talk about it. But most of you aren't here to listen to me prattle on (well, not in that way). So I'll shut up now.
And here I go again…
"Okay Jaune, you can do this."
JNPR's leader drew a deep breath as he squared himself in front of the foreign headmaster's door. He had come too far to chicken out now, confronted with an inanimate obstacle.
It had been a long journey from Beacon to Mistral. Yet the trip from the front gate, down the empty hallways and up to the heavy oaken portal felt far longer. So much responsibility rested on his shoulders, a burden which just seemed to get heavier the closer it got until it came time to flex those powers loaned to him from the headmistress of Beacon.
His team had been trusted with the "Eastern Front" of the war-that-wasn't-quite-yet. The one they had only implicitly signed on for, but swore oaths to themselves to fight for. Thus, all of Mistral, and Haven academy in particular, were their responsibility.
It was a monumental task, and one that would not wait until they were ready.
He wasn't ready. No amount of pep-talk would make him. He raised his closed fist in front of his face, hand poised in front of his greatest challenge to date. He'd take facing Cardin over this immutable door any day.
"Right, here we go-"
"Hurry up Jaune!"
"GAAA!"
He wasn't sure if the shrill scream came from his surprise shout by the impatient ginger, or if it was a result of his closed fist slamming into the unforgiving portal.
The hardwood surprisingly yielded, emitting a groaning crack as the bolt buckled. He was in no position to notice, though. He was too busy nursing his red and swollen knuckles, not daring yet to check them for splinters.
"Nora! We're meeting the headmaster, try to show a little patience." Ren's late cowing of his excitable friend did little to sooth the throbbing pain of his fingers. And it did even less to commend them to the owner of the door.
"Way to make a good first impression, Jaune."
There was a pregnant pause as the other three digested Nora's terrible pun, solemnly vowing to limit her future exposures to Yang. Amidst their collective groans, there came an echo to Jaune's manly cry of surprise, emanating from behind the door.
Cautiously, and with some amount of appreciation for the damage done inadvertently to the poor door, the former huntress from Mistral poked her head into the stuffy office.
"Mr. Lionheart?" Pyrrha called out to the seemingly vacant room whose only light came from the massive bay windows opposite the entrance.
The only apparent occupants of the room were the countless books which spilled form their shelves, cascading down to stuffed velvet furniture and spilling onto the floor. That archetypal smell of musty paper and dust hung around like a summer's day heat after sunset. But beyond that, the room seemed as empty as the rest of the grounds had been. A strange and worrying thing to notice in a school that was supposed to be in the beginning of its fall semester.
"Huh, I guess he's not in right now."
"Ooh! Maybe we arrived just in time for the hide-and-seek game this time! I am so gonna win this thing."
"Nora, stay!"
Surprisingly this command was issued not from her inseparable friend and partner, but from her leader who had recovered surprisingly quickly from his injury. And even more shockingly, the order was followed dutifully and without any hesitation. Nora was frozen, transfixed by the apprehensive and calculating look and Jaune's face as he surveyed the unoccupied office.
He stepped past his other teammates, holding a hand to Pyrrha who tried to follow him through the door. If there was truly a danger, this would be a stupid move to send the team leader in first. But the feelings of trepidation he felt came from his fear of responsibility, and not a sense of danger.
He had many months to sort out the difference between those two. After being the victim of several very nasty pranks disguised as stealth training by their recuperating fox Faunus, he had come to trust his gut feelings a little bit more. And something was telling him, despite the oddity, this was not a particularly dangers situation.
Not yet.
"Hello? Mr. Lionheart? We're the team from Beacon Ms. Goodwitch sent. Did you get our message that we had arrived?"
There was no answer for a while, during which his team began to doubt. But then a familiar little tweet echoed from the far side, muffled by the heavy desk that was front and center across from Jaune.
It took them all a second to realize it was the default sound made by their scrolls when a message arrived. Following the electronic chirp flowed a stream of curses, also muted by the sturdy furniture. Certain words and phrases came through though, and the gist was a general dislike for the poor cellular reception in the school.
Then there was a bang, and the desk shifted outwards and up. This was followed by more cursing and a shaggy but kindly face emerging from behind the obvious yet ample hiding place.
Rubbing his head in a mixture of sheepishness and pain (something Jaune could relate to), the swarthy man they presumed to be Leonardo Lionheart stood up and held out the brilliant face of his blinking scroll towards them.
"I suppose I just received it."
"He, he, uh… bad phone service?"
"Among other things," The man sighed and gestured for the rest of them to enter and make themselves comfortable in the quaintly rustic room and furniture while he took a seat in the overstuffed plush chair stationed behind his desk.
Pyrrha was quick to reacquaint herself with the man who had tried valiantly to get her to attend his academy, and was equally quick to apologize for his now ruined door. Despite having had in no way any hand in its destruction.
The man waved her off with a careless but weary smile, indicating that there were other, more pressing matters that deserved their attention.
"Yeah, about that. What happened to all the students and teachers?" Jaune scratched the back of his head, slightly embarrassed at what might be a tactless question. It was a habit he had picked up from a certain someone. "I mean, shouldn't the semester have started already?"
"Perhaps it should have, but I felt that the situation was too dangerous to allow students back, and I sent the rest of the staff back to their homes so they could take care of their families."
"What? How could you do that?" Pyrrha spoke out of turn, surprising her teammates and even the headmaster. "Haven is supposed to be a symbol of hope for the Kingdom, and for the world. By running scared, you're just giving in to the fear and anger, making them more powerful-"
The passionate diatribe was quietly ended as Jaune placed a stalwart hand on his partner's shoulder, cutting her off and yet promising resolution with a firm gaze and gentle squeeze. She bit her tongue to keep her surprisingly rampant emotions in check as Jaune turned back to the mildly upset Lionheart.
"I can understand why you made that decision, sir." The young huntsman smiled nostalgically, "But believe me, hiding from problems doesn't make them go away. Running doesn't work too well either." He chuckled, recalling his own attempts which ended poorly.
"I'm afraid you don't understand," The headmaster stated glumly, though the four members of Juniper still felt like they were being spoken down to. "Everyone here saw the fall of Beacon. We all felt the fear and anger, the uncertainty reached out over the seas to us when the CCT came down. The combined negative sentiment from our population just watching it unfold attracted massive hordes of Grimm. We lost many good huntsman and huntresses…"
"-With all due respect, sir," The rest of his team flinched, seeing for the first time this Jaune Arc. "We lost people too." If it were anyone else, they might have said he was furious. But the young man kept his darker emotions restrained, aware of all the ill-effects unleashing it would have.
"And yet, here we are." That all but murderous air disappeared as he gazed back to his team, waiting apprehensively as the legendary huntsman behind the desk. He shot them a cocky smile, one based more in practice than actually confidence, before he turned back to the irresolute headmaster.
"Anyways, that's actually one of the things Ms. Goodwitch wanted us to talk about. I really hope that we aren't taking up any important meetings you had planned." He saw the man raise a finger as if to produce just such a requirement, but trampled forward regardless. "But you're just going to have to tell them you'll be a little bit late. I think we have a lot to talk about."
Jaune would have admitted that he was just riding on the ephemeral power high. It was what drove him to knock on the door in the first place (that and Nora's timely intervention). But once he got over confronting such a powerful figure, realizing that the man was just as spineless as he was, he rode that lent confidence for all it was worth.
He didn't have to be braver than the man he opposed. He just had to be brave a minute longer.
"Ha! Seems Jaune finally got some balls!"
"Oh? Anything interesting I should know about?"
Sasuke looked up from his artistic work to see the toothy smile plastered on his partner's face. But it was covered by the multiple layer of bandages, the same which plastered every inch of exposed flesh except the protuberant ears which were shrouded by a dingy, conical sugegasa.
"Nah, you kinda had to be there."
Sasuke scoffed and went back to his carving, his own smirk covered by identical wrappings which folded into sackcloth robes, whilst Naruto absently plucked a few strings on a turtle shell shamisen balanced in his lap. Though he couldn't see it, he was sure Naruto's eyes were closed in deep concentration which didn't center around the instrument in his lap. That was why he was here, to keep an eye open where his partner could not.
They had discovered that by transforming just his ears into their fluid state, he could interpret sounds which traveled through the air easier, and with greater accuracy. And the leaden glass windows on the headmaster's office resonated deeply so that with a little practice, the fox Faunus could pick up everything being said up there. He might as well have been in the room with them.
But the question for anyone stumbling onto to this voyeuristic scene was why the two huntsmen in training were here in Mistral at all, and why they were practically spying on their comrades.
Put simply, JNPR were the bait.
At least, that's the way it was in Sasuke's eyes. No matter how many euphemisms Glynda, and later Naruto tried to attribute to it, that was the truth in his eyes.
Intelligence and intuition told them that the next likely target would be Haven academy. Things had quieted down in Vale after their run-in with Emerald, and they didn't think it was a coincidence. Nevertheless, it allowed them to try and get their own forces consolidated against Salem's still unknown machinations.
That put the six of them in Mistral and team RWBY in Atlas, with others both at home and abroad. While Naruto wasn't exactly comfortable with being so far away from his 'better half', he agreed it was necessary in the context of their respective missions.
JNPR's cover was legitimate. They were there to reestablish connections with Haven Academy's headmaster who had gone silent after the collapse of Beacon. This was unacceptable to both Glynda and Qrow who needed the man to be vigilant over his share of the relics.
And it wasn't like they expected Jaune to fail. Quite the contrary, as everyone privy to the mission had the utmost faith in him. But the fact remained that if Salem's attack was immanent, she would target the Beacon students first and foremost. All of them had survived her overture. She wouldn't want those kinds of loose ends trailing about. She would want to silence them.
So Naruto and Sasuke were to provide surreptitious support, and maybe run their own little side investigations if they had time. It was the kind of asymmetric warfare being a ninja was all about.
It was those shinobi skills which allowed them to hide in plain sight on the academy's front doorstep. The two dressed as begging lepers, not an unheard-of thing around those parts. The Kingdom of Mistral had a thriving and open trade, unfortunately this did nothing to stop the endemic spread of disease and destitution.
For once, Sasuke was almost glad Naruto couldn't remember most of his abilities. He would have remembered the Henge, and he would have been surprised that they weren't using it. The truth was Sasuke couldn't right now, at least not without accruing considerable pain. His condition had progressed to the point where he needed to use all chakra sparingly.
In a way, he really did feel like a leper. The world slowly eating away at him, body and soul.
He nodded in acknowledgement as a passerby picked up one of his carved figurines and laid down a silver coin in recompense. He held up his end of the ruse by carving wooden dolls in exchange for whatever meager largess passersby gave him. Begging alone would have them picked up by the authorities. Mistral was tolerant of much, but not towards those they viewed as troublemakers.
He had been whittling away unconsciously for hours now, and had surprised himself by making fairly decent works. Irony had him carving the forms of the nine Bijuu. 'Shukaku' had just been purchased, so he focused on molding the block of wood in his hands into a replacement.
He glanced up through the notch in the bandages to see the unveiled glare the same 'customer' was sending Naruto, whose shamisen sat purposelessly in his lap.
"He's just resting." Sasuke excused his listless friend, who went on fiddling with the strings and listening through the wall.
The patron didn't look convinced, but thankfully didn't raise a ruckus either. The man pressed the wooden figurine into his juvenile son's hands and hurried him away. Sasuke sighed in relief and went back to mindlessly carving and observing the foot traffic.
"You say something, Sasuke?" The young man just shook his head, either in exasperation or mirth, Naruto couldn't tell.
"No."
Naruto shrugged and went back to concentrating his semblance on his ears and interpreting the minute vibrations.
Sasuke wondered if Naruto could even play the instrument he had chosen for cover, or if he had merely picked it at random. If someone noticed his inactivity after a while, they might have a hard time keeping their cover. If someone asked him to play something, they were screwed.
"Hey kid, know any good drinking songs?"
Sasuke cursed and all but froze, hand shifting the kunai he had been carving with into a position where it could be thrown, and preparing to get both himself and Naruto out of there if it should come to it.
But it was even worse than he could have imagined.
"C'mon, I know you're not deaf." The heckler prodded the teen's leg with his sharp leather shoes, finally stirring the him from his focus. "Ooh, or how 'bout a love song. Play a good one, a real tear-jerker."
"Oi! Who do you think you are, kicking a- What the hell are you doing here!?"
"Finally…" Qrow smirked before bending down and snatching one of Sasuke's figurines before he could stop him. "Hey, these are pretty good!" He praised, turning it over in his hands and rubbing the rough-hewn edges. He had, on purpose or otherwise, picked up the nine-tailed Fox doll. "Yeah, looks just like it…"
"What the hell are you doing here you fool?" Sasuke hissed at the man who ignored him and continued considering the chibi-fox. "You'll blow our cover!"
"Alright, alright, don't get your bandages in a knot…" He tossed the figurine back to Sasuke who snatched it out of the air, never taking his eyes off of the casual huntsman.
"….Are you drunk?" Naruto questioned with an eyebrow raised which shifted every layer of bandage on his face.
"Uh, yeah, duh." He said as he produced a flask and sloshed it around to illustrate the amount of empty space inside. "Is that really the first question you're going to ask me?"
"No," Sasuke growled. "We both very clearly asked: what the hell are you doing here?"
"Oh, that." Qrow shrugged, waving a dismissal like he was swatting a fly. "I just figured you guys might like something more exciting to occupy your time."
Though the young man's face was covered, Qrow could clearly interpret the blank stare he was getting. He would just have to bait them a little more.
"Well, if that's the way you feel, maybe I'll just go find someone else to come along on my merry little venture."
"Who? Like Winter?" Qrow shuddered and made a hex with his fingers at the mention of the name.
"Well then, it looks like you need us, since you don't have anyone else you can turn to."
"Hey!" He shouted indignantly, bringing the public's attention, much to Sasuke's ire. "I'll have you know I am fully capable of doing this myself, I just thought I would give you brats and opportunity to tag along. But, seeing as how you are just so damned ungrateful-"
"Does Glynda know what you're doing?" Qrow shrugged once again, but this time averted his eyes.
"Eh, I kind of forgot to mention something to her. But if I had, I am sure she would tell you of the necessity of this operation." He spoke with surprising seriousness.
"Which is…?" Naruto drawled, fiddling again with the instrument in his hands, but anticipating smashing it over the man's head.
Qrow smiled conspiratorially and leaned in over the two so he wouldn't alert prying ears, but also so he could hoard their attention.
"How'd you like to help me hunt down a Maiden?"
"Oh, what a beautiful day!"
"Weiss, it's night. Also, how can you call this beautiful?!"
The other two members of team RWBY stared back and forth at their captain and her partner like they were watching badminton. For once, the perpetually reserved young woman was in a state of elation, and the usually upbeat girl was the lead weight bringing them down.
Although, to be fair, both Yang and Blake found the weather a tad cold as well. It was impossible to keep that sniffle from running down the nose and freezing almost instantaneously into greenish icicles. Objectively, that made it was cold.
But none of that seemed to bother the Schnee heiress. Upon returning to her homeland and being confronted with the bleak frozen tundra that was Atlas in the winter, she immediately ran out into the howling wind to embrace the weather in its entirety.
"Oh come on, Ruby. Don't be such a spoil-sport. The snow is wonderful. Go make a snow-angle or snowman already and get it out of your system."
Ruby took one look at the pristine white blanket which appeared to be rising by the minute, and then at her hands which would not stop shaking. No matter how appealing that sounded to her, she imagined that after about thirty seconds into the attempt her fingers would freeze and break off.
"No thanks. I think I'll pass."
"What's with you?" Weiss huffed, not comprehending what the average visitor to Atlas might feel like during one of their seasonal storms.
"It's too cold!"
"Cold? This isn't cold?"
"Wait, if this isn't cold, what in the world do you think is cold?"
"Well, at nighttime the temperature does start to drop, and things can get a little chilly-"
"What?! It's going to get even colder!?"
The other two silently watched them bicker from the moment they set foot off the aircraft, unsure of what to do, since they too were looking at the weather outside the protective metal hangar with growing amount of trepidation.
"Oh yes, it is lovely weather!" Blake and Yang shared a groan as they turned to the perpetually upbeat android who was to be their guide and escort during the mission.
"Et too, Penny?" Yang gave the android a half-smile as she buried herself further into the sheepskin jacket she brought along. "I would have thought Snow-Angel was the only one who could love such cold temperature. She's always turning down the damn thermostat…" She whispered the last part under her breath and even though Penny no doubt heard it, she ignored it in favor of the more jubilant answer.
"Of course! This type of weather is perfect for me, all of my processors are running at maximum efficiency and I can scale back my cooling system to conserve 1.8% more energy per hour of operation!"
"But don't you, I don't know, feel cold?" Blake asked, getting chills just from looking at the unchanged dress of the android.
"No. Should I be?"
"I don't know?" Yang said, getting frustrated at having to wait around so long in the unheated chamber. At least it was out of the wind. "I mean, you do feel things, pain and such right? Doesn't that mean that you'll get cold at some point?"
Penny cocked her head at the two of them with a disturbingly blank expression on her face that only briefly morphed into one of intense concentration. Which, if anything, was perhaps more unsettling than the blank one. She snapped out of it so suddenly that it caused the two women to take a step back, as they had the first time they had met.
"Yes!" She looked especially proud of herself for reaching that conclusion.
"Yes?"
"Yes. I calculate that there is a temperature at which I would begin to feel uncomfortable. At that threshold level I would begin to experience thickening of the lubricants in my joints, including dangerous expansion which could damage my fittings. I estimate that at this range I would begin to experience discomfort."
"So you're alright now? Any idea how cold that would have to be?" Blake asked cautiously, wondering if they had to worry about carrying the gynoid in the near future.
"Forty below?! Forty Below what?! What temperature has negative numbers?!" A cry from across the large chamber caught all of their attention as it seamlessly bled into their own conversation.
"It's minus-forty, it doesn't matter what scale you're using!" The equally frustrated cry from Weiss resonated against that of Ruby's, her blissful state cleanly forgotten.
"W-What?! How is that even a thing?!"
The two had noticed that Ruby and Weiss had been arguing a lot more lately, but they were unsure of what to make of it. Blake was worried about their team dynamic, but Yang assured her that was just typical behavior for close friends, even siblings. She cited herself and Ruby as an example, though that didn't give the dark-haired woman any more confidence.
"Friend Ruby does bring up a good point, though." Penny had even less of an idea of how to interpret their argument. So instead, focused on the things she could understand. "We should get to our destination before the storm gets any worse. If we wait any longer, whiteout conditions will make travel nearly impossible."
Everyone silently gathered around Penny at this declaration, Weiss and Ruby included as they drifted away from the cracked hangar doors.
"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Yang asked impatiently.
"I'm not walking in that." Blake said disparagingly, jabbing a finger at the snow falling sideways across the open doors.
"So, what do you suggest we do-"
"Sorry I'm late."
The four huntresses turned around to greet the cordial but gruff voice which emerged from under the shade of the aircraft they had arrived in. Their tall frame was handsomely bundled against the obviously inclement weather outside, but even the four of them knew who it was. Though it had been awhile for most of them.
The android had already known of his presence for a while, and gave an amicable, but noticeably reserved wave.
"Hello General."
"Hello again, Penny." He nodded, shifting the gray patterned scarf off his nose and mouth and removing his darkly tinted sunglasses. "Team RWBY." He nodded again deferentially to the gob smacked students.
The Beacon huntresses all faltered at the unannounced celebrity appearance. Weiss especially, for she had seen very little of the man after he walked out of a benefit gala for Beacon. He now looked considerably more worn-down than he had then. Or maybe it was just the surprise. None of them imagined meeting the man again in a place such as this.
"Well then," he continued, undeterred at the perplexed looks he was getting. "Shall we go?" He stepped aside, motioning towards a stately vehicle that at first looked more appropriate for the parade ground than the frozen and half-buried streets that awaited them.
"Uh, yeah, sure." The leader of the team wormed her way to the front of the group, taking the lead towards the six-wheeled staff-car on steroids, nodding convincingly to the rest of her team.
"I apologize once again for being late," The General addressed them once they were all cozily situated in the brutishly elegant machine, which upon closer inspection was far more heavy duty than its immaculate white paint and supple curves suggested.
He sat facing backwards to the direction of travel, and opposite the five of them who were comfortably seated on the U-shaped leather bench seat. And despite the obviously massive engine, they didn't have to raise their voices to make themselves heard across the cabin. The ample insulation all but cut them off from the world outside.
"Yeah, no problem." Weiss coughed, and Ruby quickly reworded her response. "I mean, it isn't an issue, General, sir."
"How come you're here to pick us up? Seems like kind of a small job for a bigshot like you." Yang stated bluntly, patently ignoring Weiss who was glaring daggers from across the coach. Although, everyone was quietly thinking the same thing.
Ironwood remained quiet for a brief pause in which they thought he was considering the answer as he appraised each of them in turn. However, he and Penny shared a knowing look which lasted all of a second, and made Ruby feel decidedly uncomfortable.
"I am not sure that you girls quite understand the importance of your mission here. Eh-well, actually," He nodded in Weiss's direction ", you might have an idea, Ms. Schnee."
"Well, I'll admit that I'm a little… ignorant on why we are here." Ruby stated with both humility and a little shame. "I mean, I understand that Vale and Atlas haven't been on the best terms recently. So I guess we're here to help fix that?"
Seeing her partner and captain giving an admirable attempt at political savvy, Weiss decided to take pity on her and offer her own insight.
"That's part of it." She sighed, glancing out the porthole windows which were but a white screen as they plowed through the snowbanks already as tall as most men.
"We're heading into the largest Township outside of Mantel to look for signs of dissidence which might undermine the government." She glanced at Ironwood who showed no expression, but the ambient weariness etched in the lines on his face.
"The government of Atlas needs everyone on our side right now so that Salem and her forces can't get a foothold. That includes the White Fang who might have gained increasing influence within the semi-autonomous structure of the townships. "
"That's also why they chose us." Weiss cut in "Because they need me, as a Schnee, I am a powerful symbol of their commitment." She glanced at Blake who was at her left and had already made the connection but was mulling things silently. "And it helps that we have Blake so that the people might actually listen."
And so that they wouldn't outright murder her. She left that part out, but most of the vehicle's passengers understood it.
"Okay, but that still doesn't really explain things." Yang stated petulantly, crossing her legs and arms with a huff. She was getting tired at all these political machinations. "I get Ice-Princess being a celebrity of sorts up here, but what does Blake have to do with it? What do we have to do with it?"
Still the General didn't give anything away, although he did manage to sneak a glance at the leader of the team who was too busy connecting dots to notice his furtive look. Weiss, and Blake both had their uses explained in the context of the mission.
Penny and he were there because Ruby was there, because Qrow had warned them ahead of time and suggested his niece get as far off the grid as possible for the time being. They were there to keep her safe, while on an admittedly dangerous mission. It was the lesser of two evils, and a perfect context for hiding her away.
Unfortunately for Yang, she was just along for the ride. But as a member of team RWBY, she would find herself as crucial as everyone else if things played out how he feared.
"The Townships have a… less than flattering name outside of Atlas." He started out, seeming to go off on another tangent to the blonde's ire.
Before she could voice her complaints, however, Blake interjected, unable to hold in her scathing opinion any longer.
"They're Faunus Ghettos. They're sending us into a cage to pacify the animals."
The interior of the car was dead silent as they almost unnoticeably glided to a halt. The snowfall had died down to a gentle patter outside, letting the harsh yellow security lights shine in through the perfectly round windows. The curious faces pressed themselves to the cold glass, looking out into the recently plowed streets and at the imposing sight across from them.
Weiss had no need to see it again. Neither did the General.
Heavy chain-link fence which was half-covered in recent snowfall separated them from what looked like acres of empty space. Shallow sloped roofs like dunes were the only thing breaking this illusion, accompanied by the dim yellow glow of incandescent light which looked warm, but none too inviting.
It was like a border with another nation, a city-state within the impenetrable evergreen forest which skirted the capital. Heavily armed, human and robot, guards stood unflinching next to the razor-wire topped gate and patrolled its length. The only way in or out of the compound which extended as far as the eye could see.
Blake had been right. It was a cage. A country with a choke-collar wrapped around its neck, restricting the breath of freedom to nothing more than a strained gasp.
And they were headed into it.
"That went…well."
Jaune's face was slacked with disbelief looking at his partner and teammate who was doing her best to console her leader. It was clear he was unconvinced.
"It wasn't that bad…"
He sighed and shook his head, drowning himself in another sip of the heavily spiced tea on the counter in front of him. He appreciated her efforts, but that wasn't what he desired right now. He didn't need consolation, he needed a renewed plan of attack for the next day. They couldn't give up that easily.
"It's not that it went poorly," Jaune said, staring, brows furrowed at the muddy brown liquid at the bottom of his glass. "I expected that he wouldn't listen to us, a bunch of kids. At least, not at first…"
"Well, we just have to convince him then." Pyrrha stated resolutely, clapping a hand on the seemingly dejected boy's armored back. "We just have to show him that there are people capable and willing to fight against Salem. And that he should bring back the students and teachers, show her that he isn't afraid."
Jaune shook his head in the negative.
"We already went over all those points with him. Even if we had the backing of the Atlas military behind us, I still don't think he would change his mind." The lanky boy's frown deepened as he looked up from the wooden bar and out to the busy street, happy and oblivious people still going about their business, even as the early winter sun was beginning to set.
"There's something else we're missing. Something he's not telling us." The man was afraid. Jaune was intimately familiar with that emotion, above all others. But he was lucky in that he had a lot of experience dealing with it, working through it, around it.
"Ooh! I know! Let's break his legs!"
Ren sighed at his partner's caffeine-fueled outburst. All the work they had done had gone out the window as soon as she had gotten little bit of sugar and chemical energy in her. She had finished her drink before any of the others, almost as soon as they had sidled up to one of the innocuous carts that populated the market streets.
"No, Nora. He's a headmaster, we can't do that." Hoping that even in her hyperactive state, the girl would at least recognize the inadvisability of assaulting such an important, likely powerful, figure.
"Help me out here Jaune. Jaune?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry. Uh, what were you saying Ren?" He blinked, tearing his eyes off the bustling streets. He thought he saw a familiar face amongst the crowds, but it was probably just his wishful mind playing tricks on him.
The thought of tricks sparked something in his mind, though, and from there it was a conflagration of thoughts which ran unchecked through his head.
"Actually, wait, that could work…."
Ren paled as his captain's statement as he then began muttering to himself.
"You can't be serious-"
"Oh Hell-yeah! This will be so cool! Alright Jaune, you get us access to his home. Pyrrha, Ren, you hold him down and I'll-"
"No Nora! Jaune, Pyrrha, help!"
"Sorry Ren, I've got to do some thinking. I'll catch you guys back at the room."
Jaune blindly placed some coins in the tin cup attached to the cart's counter, the tinkling sound dwarfed by Nora as she attempted to wriggle her way out of Pyrrha and Ren's grip. He walked off with his head turned to the ground and hand on his chin, deep in thought and oblivious to the commotion erupting behind him from the rest of his team.
"Jaune!? Where are you going?! We need a little help- Stop struggling Nora-No! Sorry! We'll pay for that- Keep Magnhild away from her! Seriously Nora, you have to calm down!"
"You better not go causing mahem without me, Jaune! Ow! Hey-watch it!"
"Sorry!"
"Oh, that does it…it's on missy!"
Team JNPR was sure to succeed in whatever they set their minds too. But first, they had to conquer themselves.
"No, no, that won't work…"
Jaune muttered to himself as he plodded down the busy streets, unaware of the passersby who had to change their own routes to avoid running into him. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he missed all the spiteful glares sent his way which were much too intense for his simply being rudely unobservant.
He had come up with at least a dozen schemes to use against Lionheart to get him to bring back the students and faculty. And every single one of them he had dismissed after only short consideration.
The fact was that he just had too little information, on both the man and on the situation. This was a foreign country, and they were just students. How did Glynda expect them to waltz in there are set things straight? He understood the argument and motivations. He agreed that together the academies and their residents were a far stronger force than they were divided. But he had exhausted all these facts on the otherwise ineffectual headmaster only to be met with firm rebuttal every time.
It was clear he had other motivations than what he decried in the meeting. Some of them may have even been genuine, but if that were the case, why try to hide them?
And they were running out of time. At least, that was what Goodwitch had insinuated. If Salem wasn't going to make her move soon, they would. And so he didn't have time to be poking about looking for leverage which he may or may not find. He needed more political clout than what Glynda could bestow upon him. He needed the support of Lionheart's constituents. He needed the approval of the people.
Which he now noticed might be harder than he first surmised. He came to a halt in the middle of the street and looked up from his daze. On the surface everything was as bright and cheery as it had been since they first arrived. The sun shone brightly and highlighted the peacock colors of the marketplace, the walkways and shops lined with a pallet of gay banners and signs as lively as the pedestrians themselves who chatted on as if the recent Grimm attack were centuries ago.
But underlying that was a bleak current, a pall of hushed whispers like curare darts peppering him from every side. No one would come straight out with it, but it was clear after only a moment that those disparaging remarks where muttered in his direction.
Why? What had he done wrong? Was simply being a foreigner enough to set them off? Mistral wasn't known for being xenophobic, but perhaps that had been the change the Grimm attack had brought.
But then he understood.
"Hey! You!"
He flinched at the sudden outburst. He spun around to see a dark-haired, dark-skinned young woman sitting at a shaded café table, flanked by three others who only now looked lazily in his direction. Instincts told him to bolt, especially seeing the broadsword which was leaning not too far off. But before he could act on his instincts to backtrack and find his own team, the young woman leaned far over the table to beckon him with a brightly colored finger nail.
Who was he to refuse such an invitation?
Still, he approached this opportunity with caution. There was only one coy smile at the table, while the rest seemed to be judging him with cocked eyebrows and no small amount of skepticism. Still, the hand she waved was insistent, and he was taught to never keep a woman waiting.
"Um, hello?"
"You," She leveled the finger at him, and the demonic faces meticulously painted on her pointed nails snarled out at him. "I know you,"
By now all his senses were screaming at him to flee, but he was paralyzed under that cutely scrunched up stare and the scrutinizing gazes from the rest of the group. If they wanted him dead, running would do little to stop them.
"I'm sorry, I don't think we have ever met…" His mind went through numerous occasions he might have had in which he earned this exotic goddess's ire, and came up blank.
"No, no, no," She shook her head and the cascade of brass earrings jingled like prayer bells. "Not in person. You were in the Vytal Festival, correct?"
His eyes brightened and almost as immediately had a black curtain cast over them. It was a slippery slope from famous, to infamous, and he had yet to determine which label he wore here. But, there was no sense in lying.
"Yes, I was there."
"Ha!" Her laugh was as sweet and biting as the spiced tea he had earlier. She spun away from him to point the accusing finger at the rest of the table. "Pay up!"
Jaune blinked as the others groaned, throwing an odd assortment of Lien cards and semi-precious metals on the round wood table. The dark woman who had called him over chuckled as she hoarded her winnings together, leaving aside a small pile with which to pay for their drinks. The blond sighed as he prepared to turn around, before those painted monsters nipped at his shirtsleeve, begging him to stay.
"Come, come. Sit down with us, let me buy you a drink." Once more he felt as if he was becoming mired in her sugary air, but still consented. A space was made and a chair brought in for him at the crowded circle. Before he could refuse, that unrelenting finger signaled a passing waiter for another round of whatever the empty cups on the table had held.
"I knew I recognized you. You were with Pyrrha Nikos." Ah, that would explain her remembering him. Though it was a wonder he was visible at all behind her blinding persona.
"I thought you all did a wonderful job. You seem to be a captain that truly knows his teammates strengths and weaknesses."
Jaune didn't know what to do with the compliment, other than turn red and clam up. Thankfully, he didn't have to say anything as one of the others spoke for the first time.
"Doesn't help if he's still the weakest link on the team."
The biting remark came from the one farthest from Jaune. A bored looking individual with only a dark peach-fuzz covering their pale head and coal black eyes set into hollow sockets in their skull. Eyes which seemed to be staring down at him, despite being slouched so far down in their dangerously reclined seat that they were barely visible over the table clutter.
The individual was given a withering look from the dark-skinned woman on his right that they easily shrugged off.
In the exchange, he began to notice a trend at the table. Apart from himself, the other four were all crowned with varying shades of black hair, though they differed in every other way. His advocate just let the rebuke slide off with one of her own and turned back to Jaune like nothing had even been said.
"Forgive me, I haven't even introduced myself. My name is Kali, and these other balls of sunshine and rainbows are my teammates:" The cheerily demonic fingernail pointed to each of them in turn.
"This is Charna." The one on his left gave him a polite nod with her highly angular cheekbones and equally cold stare, which was more analytical than animosity. He nodded back, and she returned to her cup which looked like a doll's set in her hands. Even sitting, she was clearly taller than him.
"That is Ferrer." The next clockwise encounter was a rather stout looking lad, square jaw throwing him a cocky but jovial smirk. He raised a calloused hand to be level with his hazel-colored eyes.
"And of course, that is Lonán." The one with the most negativity didn't give any indication they were being talked about. They just continued to stare at Jaune with half-lidded chunks of coal. They folded their arms over the moth-eaten white wife-beater which hung loose on their almost skeletal frame. Jaune still couldn't tell if it was a male or female, but didn't think he was in any place to ask.
"Um, hi. I'm Jaune Arc."
"Mm. Ci, we know." Ferrer nodded, leaning back in the wicker chair. "Didn't think it was really you at first. You changed a bit since then."
"Yeah… I know." The other three empathized with the weight of the statement, but the androgynous member appeared to perk up slightly.
"A lot has changed since then." Kali placed a hand on his forearm which found its way onto the table amidst the abandoned cups which had yet to be cleared. "For us as well."
Jaune nodded in appreciation, though more so that he could just move the conversation along.
"So… you four are hunters?"
"Training to be." The individual known as Lorán spoke, with a little less bite than before. Seemingly anxious to correct any false-assumptions.
"I do not know how we are going to do that now, though." Ferrer scratched the stubble on his chin and sent Jaune another lopsided smile. "If you've come to find a new place to study, I'm afraid you're out of luck."
"Actually, that's kind of why I'm here." Kali looked slightly alarmed at this announcement and turned in her seat to face him.
"Did you not hear? Haven has been closed, and they will not say when it will reopen."
"Yes, I know. I'm not trying to join. We've been sent from Beacon to try and fix this." This statement definitely raised some eyebrows. It even caused the standoffish Lorán to sit up in their seat and lean cautiously into the conversation.
"We? You mean you've been sent from Beacon with your team?"
"Then Beacon stands still."
"Your team-oh! Is Pyrrha Nikos here too?"
"What do they think sending one team is going to accomplish?"
Jaune recoiled from the barrage of questions, not used to suddenly being the center of so much attention from strangers. The last question was also one that he had been wondering about, and so had even less of a decent answer for it.
He tried to answer them as best he could and assuring that his team was up to the task. Most of them had confidence and respect in Pyrrha, for obvious reasons. But were still dubious the effect just one group of students could hope to have on, to them, a hopeless situation.
"That's actually where I'm at, right now." Jaune admitted with a sigh, playing with his mostly full cup of strongly spiced and bitter tea which had arrived long enough in their conversation to become cool and undrinkable. "I can't seem to convince the headmaster to take a stand and bring back the students and faculty." He shook his head and stared into the grainy liquid. "Why can't he understand that we're stronger if we stand together?"
"He does." Lorán spoke, again surprising Jaune. "Maybe he can't, or doesn't believe it, though." Before he was to question the genderless individual, he took stock of the dower and dejected looks which went around the table. Even Kali, who had yet to lose her mysterious smile, had a purse to her crimson lips and her dark brows knit in consternation.
"Any show of strength now, and it is likely that he'll lose the school." Lorán grimaced before fumbling around in the pockets of tight, black jeans, producing and then lighting up a long cigarette. Kali shot a half-hearted glare which was typically ignored. Lorán flicked the lighter closed with a harsh click.
"I'm sure you know by now that we had our fair share of hardship here in Mistral." The skinny individual blew a long trail of smoke. "Well, you'd think that after such an incident, that the public would be crying out for more warriors to fight off the encroaching Grimm. But sadly, logic and politics rarely go hand in hand. Instead of being seen as heroes for sacrificing their lives to fend of the attacks, the huntsman and huntresses who were called up are now blamed for the sudden onset."
Jaune had come to the conclusion a while ago, while he was still alone in the streets. The animosity he felt was because the sword on his belt, and not the color of his skin. But he hadn't wanted to believe it until now. He had all the evidence he needed to condemn humanity to the lowest rungs of beasts, but still clung on to the hope that there was some good left in their world.
"The phenomena started on your end." They flicked the accumulating ash Jaune's way. But it held little accusation, and was simply a fact. "The public here latched onto the panic and fear, blaming it on the huntsman and soldiers for fighting one another. Claiming the build-up of arms and the preparedness to fight stirred up the Grimm. Tch. Fools." They snuffed out the half-smoked paper tube into their cup, ignoring the cut crystal ashtray in the center of the table. "As if Grimm could understand a concept like provocation. The only provocation they understand is if you'd poke them with a spear. People are just always looking to blame their problems on someone else. We're today's scapegoats. Tomorrow, it'll probably be those same politicians, now that they don't have anyone to back them up."
"But what if something… bad were to happen now?" Jaune asked the group, voice hushed low and conspiratorially, as if the possibility weren't merely hypothetical. "What would the government of Mistral do? What would the people do?"
"Die." The response earned Lorán a lot of averted eyes, as no one wanted to either dispute nor confirm this blunt answer. They shrugged indifferently. "Most likely."
"And you're okay with that?" Jaune wisely set the cup down on the table before he broke it, and leaned over the table to confront the callous remark. "You're okay with just being shoved to the side like this? No, not even that. You're okay with being strung up to blame?"
"Of course not." Kali answered morosely for Lorán whose teeth gnashed so hard it could be heard from across the table. "But what can we do? We're just students, not even full hunters yet. Even Pyrrha Nikos is still in the same boat, and so none of us have any power."
"You're wrong." Jaune asserted, and the table found themselves surprisingly trusting of these words. "You can fight, can't you?"
"Against whom? Grimm? The school? The Kingdom? The World?"
"Yes."
No one had anything to say to this. They had not been prepared for this person now sitting at their table. They had seen the recordings of the Vytal festival and come to an entirely different conclusion as to Jaune's character. This wasn't someone who was just going to stand back and tell people what to do. This was someone who was willing to use the sword and shield on their belt to cut aside anything that stood in their way.
"Individually, we may be weak." No matter how much he might have improved, Jaune knew they all had a long way to go before they could compare themselves to real huntsman and huntresses. "But if we stand together, we can be many times stronger than we would be alone. And I'm not just talking about fighting. Students in every kingdom may represent only a small fraction of the population, but we all share something in common. A drive, motivation, goals, ideals. If we just speak together in once voice, we can be louder than all of the people who are only held together by fear."
"Okay. Prove it." Lorán was leaning forward now, almost face to face with Jaune so that he could see past the straight line of a mouth, the excited look that was in their eyes.
"Uh," He faltered at this suddenly intense look from the unmotivated individual.
"Prove to me you have what it takes to back up those words. Fight me, and if you impress me…
"I'll get you an army for your crusade."
"Where could he have gone?"
Even being able to see over the throngs of people gawking at her and asking her for her autograph, Pyrrha couldn't seem to spot the equally tall blond leader of their team. He had simply wandered off only to vanish among the crowds while Nora worked off her sugar/caffeine high. It was a good thing Glynda gave them an ample budget to work with, Eeven still, they would probably be paying off that repair bill for a while.
"Maybe he went back to the hotelroom?" Ren suggested in a strained voice as he lugged an unconscious Nora over his shoulder. That's where he wanted to be right now, so they could get some sleep and forget about this unproductive day.
"But he doesn't have a room key." Pyrrha noted, holding the object up to illustrate the point. Like a true leader, Jaune delegated the task to the most responsible one of the group, knowing he would misplace it if it was left to him.
"Well, he could still be-uhf!-waiting in the lobby or something…" Ren grunted, repositioning the abnormally heavy limp body in his grip.
"I suppose…" Wandering around aimlessly wasn't getting them anywhere, especially with the abysmal progress they had been making, forced to wade against the tide of Pyrrha's fans.
For a brief moment, she thought she saw a flag of yellow leave a café amidst a field of darker colors. But whatever she saw quickly folded back into the indistinguishable crowd and was gone.
"Alright," She relented, the afternoon boost from the tea break was already wearing off. "Let's head back."
Maybe he would be waiting for them when they returned. Maybe he would even have some good news for them. It would be a welcome change.
Still, it was disheartening not having their leader with them. It wasn't like they couldn't make decisions on their own, but the spirit of the team wasn't there. For the first time since coming back to Beacon, they realized just how much they depended on one another, and how empty they all felt when they were not whole.
But they trusted him to return to them. He had to.
Jaune gulped, trying hard not to let the fear he had internally confined break free. He put on a brave face, despite the trickle of sweat running down his forehead and the involuntary twitch in his right eye.
The one standing opposite to him saw past this effort, but chalked up another point to their evaluation of the lanky blond. It was easy to be brave when one had confidence. It was quite another to be brave in the face of the unknown. And Lorán was a hard character to judge.
Standing across the field from Jaune they were hardly an impressive figureThey were hardly an impressive figure, less so across the field in the quickly dimming light. In comparison, they might have had only an inch or so on NoraHe only had Nora as comparison, but it seemed a good fit. But by equal measure, they had every bit the woman's intimidation factor and then some. That baggy-eyed stare which betrayed nothing of their inner workings, coupled with the lime-green baseball bat balanced casually over their shoulder presented an intimidating image. More than that, it was the casual confidence with which they held themselves that truly frightened Jaune.
Lorán had nothing to prove. That task was up to Jaune.
"Are you two ready?" Kali asked from the side where she stood with the rest of her team.
Jaune glanced at his scroll before tucking it back into his pocket. Lorán didn't move a muscle. Jaune nodded seriously at Kali before drawing Crocea Mors and holding it at a downward angle in front of him.
"Care to make another bet?" Kali cocked her head at her two teammates, brass earrings jingling merrily.
Charna smirked, but declined to answer while Ferrer spat and kicked the dirt, muttering something about the devil's luck. Kali chuckled and turned back to the two combatants.
"Alright,"
Jaune unfolded his shield and hooked his arm into its brace, resting it behind him to balance the weight of his sword.
Lorán widened their stance and wrung the metal club in their grip so that Jaune could just read the words 'Shady Lady' hand written in cursive and what looked like lipstick on the side. He could see the excited twinkle behind that impassive mask.
"Fight!"
Heh. Okay, just some notes, going in order.
I had to toss in the bit about temperature when given the opportunity. I have absolutely no idea what scale they use in Remnant, but I'm guessing that if Earth is approximately the same size, they'd end up with something like the metric system, so this joke wouldn't work. But just so you guys know, if you measure minus 40 degrees, it is the same in both Fahrenheit and Celsius.
*yes I did mean "coach" and not "couch". That's what they used to call old cars because you bought the engine and frame, and went to a coachmaker to actually get the body done.
OC's are an inevitable, so I hope you guys like them well enough. But don't expect them to play a huge role. All of their names are based off of different language's words for 'black'. Kali in Hindi, Ferrer in lots of Latin-based languages (same like 'Smith' Ferrer = Ferrier, iron-worker, someone who shoes horses) he's supposed to be Spanish (Sorry, Catalan, geeze), Charna in Slavic languages so Russian-ish, and finally Lorán which is supposedly Gaelic for blackbird (I know I used to have some of you Paddies reading my stories, so please correct me before I trample on your crazy language any more).
These are all amalgamations of people I actually know, but with changes, so any likeness to actual persons living or dead is totally not accidental.
Shady Lady however is 100% real. She's currently wandering around somewhere in So-Cal in the Post-Apocalyptic circuits. She now sports a hooked-billed machete wedged down the center, but keeps her beautiful tramp-stamp letting everyone know she's bad-a**. She's one mean bat-chete™.
And as promised, here is the Omake from chapter title "Snack"
Kakashi was never a man of faith. He had seen, survived, experienced too much which seemed to contradict it. He had often toyed with the notions before as a means out of his self-inflicted torment. But he could never quite see himself deserving of the salvation it offered. He doubted his father had stooped to its crutch, even in the moment he had accepted the inevitability of his own death.
But could he afford not to, now? Now that his team had once again been shattered, demolished, decimated, rent from his grips like a photograph in the wind, could he survive without some sort of hope?
Sasuke and Naruto were gone. He had failed his teacher, Jiraya, Itachi, the Third, and so many others that he couldn't even count. The destruction at the Valley of the End was so abject, told such a savage story that it didn't matter they never found the bodies. Maybe it was a good thing. He wanted to remember his students how they were, and not as mutilated corpses, and not as twisted experiments in Orochimaru's clutches.
It was a cold comfort, though. And the fact that he still had one student remaining was less consolation, and more slap in the face.
Sakura was devastated. He might have scorned her for her weakness, but he was in no position to talk. She was even considering dropping out of the ninja program entirely. Hell, he was. Life itself, in fact outwardly held little meaning to him, and he clung on out of habit, not purpose.
Could he follow the same path as his father? Or would the possibility be for him, the coward's way out?
If there was a divinity, even just the possibility, it could give him hope. He could yell at them, curse them, take out all his frustrations at the unfairness of it all by blaspheming to hell and back. And then, when he was done, he could renew his faith, hope that this injustice was part of their grand scheme, and that those two deaths might prevent thousands, millions more.
He could hang his faith on a divinity which governed the world beyond his control.
It would leave him blameless. But also, so, so empty. If there was meaning in their deaths, there wasn't any in his actions. His teachings, what little there were, would have been without purpose.
But if his efforts were his own, and not governed by fate, then it was their deaths that were meaningless, and his actions an exercise in futility. The world would go on without them, without him, if it were so inclined.
So passed the days by waiting out the hours, trying to find reason in life's little pleasures.
He carefully turned over another page in his book. The sun-bleached paper almost disintegrating under his touch.
Why do you give up hope so easily?
Because it hadn't worked so well before. He was a shinobi, and they worked on facts. Hoping something turned out alright and not doing anything to prevent it got people killed.
But sometimes a leap of faith can save many more.
Maybe. But only for those special individuals with luck in spades and divine providence. He wasn't one of them.
What makes you think that you're not special? We are not always the ones to determine our importance.
Because he kept failing. Time and again he thought he had something special, and he blew it. He thought this next time was going to be the one, because it lay in the hands of his students and not him. Because the son of the Fourth Hokage had him convinced he was right. He was wrong.
He had stopped reading by now. He knew the words by heart, yet they sat in front of his face and the abstract characters morphed into the faces of everyone he lost.
They were important to you, as you were important to them. Is that not enough?
But he failed them.
Only by giving up.
What else did he have to live for though?
Live for a better tomorrow. The next day. The next page. The knowledge that goodness will never die as long as we go on.
Was that so? It was so simple, so certain. Was that truly what he believed?
Yes. Believe in the ability of humans to persevere. To move on.
One foot in front of the other, moving towards what?
Life is hard, short and brutish. If it were not, it would cease to be special. Our time on this plane is limited so that we can find enjoyment in each of its moments. Those simple pleasures are enough to keep us going forward, so that one day we can look back at their totality and say that we led a good life.
"Hmm."
There was some static, some hum in thought as he mulled over the possibility in his head. He debated if it was fear that kept him from taking his own life, or something else. Was it this search for a purpose that drove all humans, uniting them through borders both real and imagined?
He flipped the page, eye reconnecting with the lines which seemed somehow sharper, less faded. The air was crisper even, the sun baking the orange tile roof he sat on and giving him a warm glow throughout. That single, obnoxious crow was nowhere to be found.
Things had changed. Not everything for the better. They were different, and that was a sign that he was still alive, still moving forward.
He was empty now. Duty would only get him so far. He needed something to fill that void, not let it lay down with the eternal nothingness. He sought purpose, but was still unsure where to find it.
And for now, he was okay with that.
…
…
…
…
…You seem awfully calm for someone with a voice inside your head.
Why shouldn't he be? He knew that he had gone crazy a long time ago.
You're not crazy, I can assure you.
No, he was crazy. But he was sane enough to realize it. That's why they kept him on the roster. Same with half the other ninja in the village.
You're not wrong there.
Did Gai have voices like this in his head? Maybe that's what the whole 'Youth' thing was about. He hoped he didn't start wearing spandex.
Oh, dear Oum, I hope not.
Ah, well then. Nothing to worry about.
Seriously? You're just going to go back to reading?
It was a good book.
Memories passed through Kakashi's head like a slideshow. But he was disconnected from them. The faces which normally invoked such pain were like strangers he was meeting for the first time.
He finished the page he was on.
I…don't suppose you have any idea where Vale, or any of the Kingdoms are, do you?
He didn't. But he assumed that was already given. He didn't even know what they were.
I was afraid of that.
…
…
…
…
…
…
He turned the p-
Wait!
He paused, finger and thumb almost tearing the corner of his precious story.
…
…
…
Okay, you can go on.
He finished turning the page. The next two, he took his time reading.
…
…
…
I don't suppose you have any coffee?
Once again, he didn't even know what that was.
He ignored the muffled sobbing noise in the back of his mind.
…It is a good book.
That he knew.
He snapped it shut, tucking it into his utility pouch on the back of his belt. He didn't stand up right away, merely looked out over the village getting ready for the oncoming nighttime. The sun was beginning to set earlier and earlier, and the street lamps just now started to flicker on, one by one.
Everywhere, people went about their daily lives like nothing had ever happened. Like nothing was ever going to happen. Around them, in the shadows and on the rooftops were those that made sure to keep it that way, heavy with guilt so that others could live oblivious. It wasn't fair, but it was life. And life always found a way to go on with no other divining force but their own.
Does there happen to be a sequel, perhaps?
Kakashi felt himself smile beneath his mask. Small, but it was there, even if he was the only one to know about it.
"Not yet."