Few know what it means to be truly quiet. But Blake Belladonna had learned and embraced the gift of her petite frame at a young age. She and silence were twins. She stood in professor Oobleck's office and watched him work. He hadn't noticed her enter. Minutes later, Oobleck finally looked up from his desk and startled.
He said, "Really? Again? Miss Belladonna, if you are trying to impress me… It's working."
Blake blushed and held out her assignment.
"You promised extra credit for a summary of Third Crusade."
"I did? Ah. Yes. I remember now."
Oobleck seized the assignment and flipped it open. His eyes skimmed every page like a mechanized loom, his finger flipping through leaves every few seconds. Blake stood in awe. She'd expected to hand it over and leave. She'd expected that Doctor Oobleck wouldn't actually care what some sixteen year old girl thought of a banned book. She especially didn't think that he would, or could, review her entire essay in a minute.
While he read, she grew too nervous to wait. "Professor Oobleck? Doctor? I… You didn't offer this assignment to anyone else. And… I mean, it's a banned book."
He looked up from the essay. "Yes? I can see that you're very distressed. Very, indeed. Why?"
"Well, I was in the White Fang. Third Crusade is the book that the White Fang distributes to recruit people. It's supposed to fill you with radical ideas and revolutionary zeal. Shouldn't you be telling me to not think about this stuff?"
She swallowed her fear. To the extent that she could, she'd learned to trust her professors.
Oobleck chuckled. "Thinking never did anyone wrong."
"But this is extremist literature. That's why the book was banned. Because it's full of dangerous thoughts."
Oobleck had frowned before. At her words, his frown soured.
"Miss Belladonna. There are many thoughts. Only one is dangerous. Never think that you are done thinking, that you've reached the time for action, and will never need to return to the abstract again. That thought is wrong. Always. It causes all bad decisions. It causes extremism."
"Oh," she said.
He looked back to the paper, finished reading it, and set it on his desk.
"Excellent. Very astute observations, Miss Belladonna. You understand the work very well. Not in its context. But otherwise, what I expected." He looked to her for an answer.
"I guess I do," Blake admitted.
She hoped that was enough. She raised her eyebrows as if to ask, "My grade?"
Oobleck looked back to the essay and frowned.
"You failed to mention the first Crusade. Even once. Why? Perhaps you don't know. Interesting. That would explain your misunderstanding of the terms 'Fate' and 'Destiny' in the author's context." He glared at her.
"Uh…" she said.
But the professor waited for something better. She thought aloud, "Aren't Fate and Destiny the same thing?"
"No. Destiny, you chose for yourself. Fate is beyond your power. The difference is the causal power. The author describes the world two ways. In one, The Will creates the world. In the other, the world creates people and their egos. The author seeks to convince faunus kind that their choice to rise up will create a new world for them. He sees Fate as an oppressor that can be overthrown."
She tried to absorb that knowledge. She wanted to leave. She wanted her grade. "O-okay. So… The other thing you said was… I didn't talk about the other Crusades. I know there were three crusades, but-""
"Two," Oobleck corrected.
Blake hugged herself and shifted her weight. "Two?"
"Yes."
"But, Professor, in Third Crusade, the author says that the third Crusade, of faunus reclaiming their place, was to make up for the second crusade, when humanity subjugated the faunus. Doesn't he mean the Great War?"
"The Great War was fought over the rights of the individual against the collective. Race was not a factor. Faunus units featured on both sides. The second crusade is metaphorical. The author is referring to the more than coincidental shift of power out of faunus hands and into human hands within society before, during, and after the Great War. Purely conceptual. There are very rarely instances of violence in that campaign."
"Oh," she mumbled.
Oobleck waited.
Blake asked, "But there's no book called First Crusade."
She realized her blunder as the words left her mouth.
"Crusade," she sighed.
"You understand now?"
Blake thought it through, then repeated aloud.
"I know Crusade is an old holy book. I didn't realize it was about the First Crusade. I thought I was looking for a book called First Crusade. But… Well they wouldn't have called it that, would they? But I only forgot about it because the only people who still read it are... Well, The Special Retinue Service in Atlas."
"Your enemies," Oobleck nodded.
"You want me to study my… The people I used to shoot at?"
"Yes. You must understand the differences that drove you to violence. You chose to leave the White Fang. Why?"
She opened her mouth to answer.
He interrupted. "Rhetorical. Please don't say. Perhaps a change in ideology? Perhaps you defected from its vices. In either case, you must understand the ideological roots of your conflict. What drives the belligerence of a soldier from Atlas? You must wonder. And so you must discover."
He was quiet long enough for her to say, "O-okay. But… Race. We're faunus, and they're human. And humans hate faunus. That's why the White Fang and the soldiers of the Old World are at war."
Oobleck retracted from that. He had a coy smile. "Oh! Well then. History is solved. I should find a new profession."
But he didn't pack his bags. Blake sighed.
Oobleck ended his facetiousness there and took a long gulp of coffee from his thermos. "Ahhhh. There. No, Miss Belladonna. The world is not so simple. Perhaps you've forgotten Chernobyl. Those atrocities. Well… A faunus, you know the name- Tukson- made them possible. And often the White Fang relies upon human alliances. As you've noted."
Blake understood what he meant. "Like Roman Torchwick."
"Who?"
"Well, you know how Team RWBY has been in the news a lot lately? We kind of busted a lot of White fang operations at the docks. And there was this mobster named-"
"Oh. Yes. Sorry. Continue."
Blake nodded. She thought Oobleck's counter-points over in her head. She didn't have a historical narrative that accounted for them. She looked at her essay on the table.
"So… Do I get the extra credit?"
"What? Yes. Excellent work. That should bring your grade up to a B. I'd like to offer you another special assignment, Miss Belladonna."
"Book report on Crusade?"
"Yes."
"Slight problem, Doctor Oobleck."
"What?"
"Crusade is a banned book, too. And… I've never read it before. So…"
She trailed off the sentence so he could provide the answer.
He blinked at her. "Ah! Yes. Not to worry. It was on the shelf above Third Crusade."
"Uh..."
Blake felt the truth creeping on her. Somehow, she'd been caught.
"On the… I'm not sure what you mean, Professor." She took a step toward the door.
Oobleck set his work aside. He steepled his hands at his desk's center and gave her his full, shoulders-squared attention. Slowly, slower than he usually spoke, he hummed, "You are a very clever young girl, Miss Belladonna. But I am much older and much wiser than you. I know that you broke into the banned books archive and stole the fifth edition copy of First Crusade. You were also very meticulous about returning it every night."
Blake swallowed. She had to run. She refreshed her mind on the escape routes she'd planned. Her nearest bug-out bag was stashed at the tool shed in the public gardens. She could change colors there and use the pre-paid transit passes to make it as far as the wall. She saw that Oobleck's expression had changed. Before, he'd been menacing, now he looked worried.
"Oh. Miss Belladonna, you are not in trouble."
She breathed.
Oobleck laughed. "Ha! Goodness. I wouldn't dream of punishing an inquisitive mind. Haha! Did you think that-? Ha! It doesn't bear mentioning. But please, you must indulge me and ask how I caught you."
Blake felt dizzy. She sat in the guest chair and straightened her school uniform.
"Professor, I can't… I'm sure no one saw me. I…"
"No one saw you," he smiled.
"Then… How?"
She saw his smile broaden. Oobleck pushed the essay to her and tapped the title.
"I wrote the fifth edition. And I published only one copy. Directly to the Archive. When I gave you the assignment."