A/N: Reminder that this fic now has a Tumblr, complete with fanart (already, somehow?!) and a place to ask questions and leave comments that I will actually have a 100% chance of responding to properly. Check it out at lionheartedfic dot tumblr dot com!
- volume 1. identity -
"If you want to be a new man you have to stay in new places, and do new things, with people who never knew you before. If you go back to the same old ways, what can you be but the same old person?"
- Joe Abercrombie, 'The Last Argument Of Kings'
RWBY
NJKA
1st Day, Spring Semester
Disembarking at Beacon's helipad feels a bit like stepping into an entirely different universe.
The air has a strange quality to it, a heaviness that you suppose is humidity, and the temperature is shocking, at least in comparison to Atlas this time of year; naturally you knew there would be no snow, but it's just... more like Summer than Spring, in your opinion. Even the sunlight here feels different, richer somehow, natural colors almost eerily vivid.
You knew that setting foot in another Kingdom for the first time would be strange, but you never quite realized just how strange.
Butlers are already unloading your belongings, which seem slightly excessive now that you're looking at them on carts, and it occurs to you that once they've gone, it will be a very long time until you see another person in Father's employ. You should be happy, and maybe you are, but... even so, there's a lump in your throat you'd rather not acknowledge, a tension in your chest alongside that strange lightness that's followed you ever since you first boarded.
You've... actually made it. This is the day you've waited for, fought so long and so hard for, endured so much for. A world without the duty to speak at company funerals, without harsh voices and absent-hearted mothers, without serving as someone else's pet songbird, without long nights alone with your own reflection. A world unfrozen.
There are so many other new students milling about, and not one of them would look at home anywhere near Atlas Academy. Not one of them gives you a second glance as you walk by. You may still be Weiss Schnee, and you will demand the respect your name entails, but at the same time you're only one more face in a crowd.
Is this how it feels to be free?
It's a long walk across campus, taking in the sights, and you're not expecting to see a maddeningly familiar face pop out at you, but lo and behold, here she is anyway. Really, universe? Was this really necessary?
At least you're not in a public restroom. Small mercies, you suppose.
She looks... different. For one thing, her clothes are muchmore expensive, a slitted jade skirt just past her knees, elegant and annoyingly practical shoes to match, sleek and sleeveless black top with a squiggly green pattern sewn into the center of her torso, spaghetti straps clinging to finely muscled shoulders - and that's... ah. Yes.
You tear your eyes from the rather ugly scar on her left shoulder that she has apparently done nothing to hide, alight on a delicate silvery spiral-pendant, green-painted nails that almost look sharpned to claw-like points, her elegant but slightly bulky purse (odd little clasps at the bottom of the straps - is that her weapon?)
As usual, her presence seems to dim the world around her; there is nothing but your frustration and annoyance to focus on when she's in your line of sight. Ugh.
She sees you, suddenly, takes a large breath and sighs. It's all but audible despite a distance of at least fifteen feet.
"I never thought I'd see a classless wretch at such a fine institution," you say, after closing the gap. Your stomach is oddly hot, presumably already building anger at whatever stupid and aggressive thing she'll have to say.
"You've stolen my line," she says, raising a thin eyebrow. One of those offensive bat ears twitches slightly.
Something feels off. You'd... thought she would continue somehow. How exactly are you meant to respond to a statement that ends so abruptly?
"Have you perhaps gotten lost on the way to whatever cave you intended to roost in?"
"I think it's you who's been lost. Someone ought to let Jacques Schnee know he's misplaced one of his belongings."
... The world goes strangely red.
Why was it that you let this animal live, again?
You open your mouth, prepared to issue a more serious challenge, hand flashing to your waist, and she - sighs again, shrugs.
"Just take your attitude elsewhere," Maryam says, oddly toothless, turns, and walks away. You're left standing here, infuriated, astonished, and baffled.
That's it, you realize; what was most different about her. Not her clothes or how much skin she was showing. It was her bearing. She didn't look ready to fight. No, she just looked tired.She hit you with perhaps her most brutal line yet, and there was hardly any passion behind it.
You're not sure what you feel, apart from aimless and impotent anger. That was almost... disappointing. Now who are you permitted to tear to shreds? You can't very well chase after her to continue trading barbs. You're not even sure why you want to.
"Your Dust and toiletries, Miss Schnee?"
"Aah!"
Oh. It's just... a servant. Yes. Of course. You clear your throat, flushed with embarrassment, and yank away your bags.
What a lovely start to the afternoon.
You don't make it five minutes before the next... incident.You're hauling your luggage along - why did you decide you'd carry your Dust yourself, again? You know perfectly well the odds of some abrupt terrorist action are minimal - and then a fresh, new idiot slams directly into you, knocking your bags to the ground.
For just a moment, your heart all but stops. You're almost surprised that nothing explodes, starting an elemental chain reaction that kills you instantly.
"What are you doing?!"
"Uh, sorry," she mumbles. A little girl in red; appropriate, since she's clearly a walking hazard. First the Faunus, now this. You've barely arrived here and you're already stressed enough that you feel right at home.
"Sorry? Do you have any idea how much damage you could have caused?"
"Uhhh..." she says, the very picture of eloquence, picking up one of your bags. You snatch it out of her hands.
"Give me that," you snap. Gods forbid she touches the thing any longer and detonates the plaza after all. When you unlatch the thing to look inside, you're almost relieved that nothing's cracked. You don't really have the energy for relief, however. "This is Dust. Mined and purified from the Schnee Quarry."
It's not some cheap trash mined by incompetents or cut with other minerals; this is as pure as energy can get in solid form and twice as likely to be set off as a result. Of course, she just goes on mumbling.
"What are you, brain dead?! Dust! Fire, water, lightning, energy?" Three ways to die right there, and that's not even all of what you were carrying. Charred until your bones go black, crushed by rapidly expanding liquid like it was concrete,shocked into cardiac arrhythmia. "Are you listening to me? Is any of this sinking in? What do you have to say for yourself?!"
You can't help but shake your fist in her baffled face. Clearly no one's bothered to educate this cretin on the dangers of handling volatile materials, and if you don't do it she'll just end up killing the next person stupid enough to be in her vicinity.
Then she sneezes and the cloud of Dust particles you hadn't realized you were spreading into the air explode in your faces. Flames singe your sleeves, static sizzles against your aura.
If you hadn't set the rest of the bag on the floor, you would be dead right now.
"... Unbelievable. This is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about!"
"I'm really, really sorry -"
No. That's more than enough of this. You are well past the point of rationality. Everyone is crossing you today, and someone has to pay for it.
You raise your arm, ready to backhand this fool across her pathetic, sniveling face, take a moment to appreciate how satisfying this is going to feel, and... and there is a series of small metallic clicks from behind you as something cold, hard, and uncomfortably barrel-like presses against your back.
... Your arm slowly comes down and the weapon moves away. The girl in red is staring in an obscene mixture of awe and horror. You turn to see another girl holding some sort of heavy rifle, no longer pointed at your actual human body. Large white ears are high in the air, her eyes are strangely focused and empty at the same time, a weird grin on her faceshowing teeth. All you can think of is the guard dogs back at the estate, ready to tear someone's throat out for threatening their territory.
"You maybe don't want to hit my friends! I kind of have a problem with that," she says cheerfully. She should be putting her weapon away and apologizing in the hopes that you won't call the police, but she is definitely doing neither of those things. Your hand drifts slowly toward your blade.
"... Are you kidding me? Your friend could have gotten me killed!"
"My friend didn't know your bags were full of Dust, because she isn't psychic."
"None of this would have been a problem if she didn't ram into me like a wild animal!"
The girl with the gun raises an eyebrow, and it occurs to you that you might have chosen your words a bit hastily. There's a moment of silence. The wind picks up, fluttering her narrow black dress and the long hood draped behind. It's almost theatrical; not quite a Vacuan stand-off but not all that far from it, either.
But the moment is broken by yet another person getting involved. Ugh, another one who has a fetish for black, too. What is wrong with people's fashion sense these days? At least this one isn't another Faunus; there's a moment when you think she is, before you realize she's just wearing a bow. Maybe someone will finally be on your side.
"Let's all calm down, okay? Nobody wants a fight." You're about to open your mouth to argue, but she cuts you off. "I think we're all a little stressed. It's the first day of school, everyone's in a hurry."
Something about her expression is stressing you out further, , that's it! She's recognized you, that's all. Finally someone who'll know to be respectful.
"I don't think the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company wants a black mark on her record on the first day of school. That could reflect pretty badly on the family."
... Or maybe not.
You want to pick a fight so, so very badly, but the maddening thing is that she's absolutely right. This would be a magnificently stupid way to provoke Father into pulling you back to hell, and even if that might happen someday, you won't let it happen instantly.
"I'm really sorry," the first girl mumbles again, as if you care. "I wasn't trying to hurt anyone or cause any trouble."
"Then perhaps you should learn to watch where you're going," you say, and excuse yourself before anyone decides to draw on you again.
Once you've gotten out of sight, you find a bench and sit to try to collect yourself. Your hands are shaking, and you can't get them to stop.
Is this your life now? Harried, assaulted, and threatened at every step? You're all but expecting a stray aircraft to crash on your head at this point. Two Faunus determined to prove the savagery of their species, one destructive half-wit, and one smugly manipulative interloper just to top it all off.
... Maybe you should have stayed home. Maybe this was a bad idea. You have no idea how to navigate a world full of organisms like this. How pathetic, that you couldn't even make it into the building without multiple encounters that nearly came to blows. Do you really have what it takes to keep your own life in line without someone else shepherding every move you make? Why did you think everything would work out fine if you could just escape?
This might be a warmer Kingdom, but nothing has really changed, not when it comes to the basic facts of you want to survive, you have to stay cold. No bursts of anger, no foolish imaginings that things will just get easier, no quarter given to obstacles in your are the only rules you can live by.
You won't forget them again.
RWBY
NJKA
"... What were you thinking, pulling a gun on another student? Especially her, of all people?"
The girl in black and green stares at you for a couple of seconds as if she has no idea what you're talking about, blinks, and suddenly looks... not exactly horrified, but definitely upset, collapsing her rifle immediately.
"I - I wasn't thinking," she says. "She was going to hit her, and I just saw red, I guess. I don't really feel... bad about it, but... God, that was stupid, wasn't it?"
The 'her' in question turns from staring out into the crowd and back to her extremely protective friend. Or, hmm. Is it just a 'friend' thing? Red's cheeks are a little bit pink and she's looking at Green like she's some kind of hero. You probably wouldn't have thought about other possibilities, except with the recent break-up in Nepeta's tiny social circle you're sort of... remembering that kind of thing actually happens.
It's weird how far you pushed that idea out of your mind, andyou don't really want to dwell on the reason why.
"It was a little bit stupid," you say. It was actually incredibly stupid, but rubbing that in seems pointlessly mean. She obviously does know what she did wrong. Most of what pushed it into incredibly stupid territory had to do with the target. "You do know who that was, right?"
"Um, well, you said she's the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, so now I know that much! Should I have?"
"I didn't know she was famous, either," Red says.
Huh. There aren't too many Faunus who don't know way too much about the SDC, but after meeting Nepeta you've learned a lot about just how surprising people can be.
"Well, I'm glad I could help." ... This is awkward. You've only made one friend in recent memory, you still have no idea how to talk to anyone outside of high-stakes situations. You're about to turn away to leave, but... you end up hesitating, just a little bit.
It's not safe to try to make friends, meet people. Wanting to in the first place is so unlike you. (Is it, though, or is it just habit?) It would be great to not only know one Faunus at the school, but two, and you could probably trust her to keep your own species a secret. You shouldn't try to trust anyone like that, but...
"I'm Jade," she says, smiling kind of painfully earnestly, "Jade Harley!"
"My name's Ruby Rose!"
... You guess that's your mind made up for you, then.
"Blake Belladonna," you say, and there's a weird thrill of fear at that, trying to make new connections, but it's kind of nice, too. "It's nice to meet you, Ruby, Jade. I think we'd better get going, though, or we'll be late to orientation."
"Oh no! We have to find Yang! Catch up with you later!"
Ruby vanishes into a swirl of rose petals, which is... new. Some people have the strangest Semblances... wait, did she say... you think you know that name.
"Wait! Do you mean Yang Xiao Long? Er, sorry, that's... not very likely."
Jade's eyebrows shoot up.
"Yeah, that's her sister. Why, do you know her?"
You're not sure how to explain that your friend has a friend who's friends with her sister, and that everyone in that chain of people is weird and ostentatious enough that you know them by name after just a couple of weeks, without having mettwo of them, or at least you don't know how to explain it quickly.
"I don't know her, exactly? It's complicated. Small world, I suppose."
Jade shrugs and smiles again.
"I feel that way all the time."
It's so strange arriving at the school auditorium with someone to actually meet. Maybe it was unrealistic of you to think that you'd never have friends again after leaving the White Fang, but even so, it's how you felt. The world was always hostile, but somehow it became so much more so after Adam became a rising star and you became his shadow. Even after you split from your family, it wasn't always so dark. Not even Ilia had that effect on you. She had hope once, too.
You saw a planet that was broken and twisted, but it was a planet full of people;minds that could be swayed, cultures that could adapt. Adam... disagreed, and it took you way too long to notice that, and even longer to notice you were starting to agree too. You were just so tired after years of barely seeing the impact of your actions.
Now the only impact is that you don't see anything but what needs to be changed. You see a world where you need to be a shadow or else you'll be crushed, where everyone is a liar until proven otherwise.
You were naive when you were young. That's true, no matter what. But maybe you wish you could have stayed naive if the alternative was becoming so cynical.
"... aaaake!"
Your head snaps up from the floor, and through a crowd that might as well just be the silhouettes of uncomitted crimes, there's a friendly face, waving her arm hard enough that you're surprised her bracers don't engage.
She looks a little better than she used to: better fed, definitely. Maybe not so much better clothed - wearing less ratty clothes, but her outfit isn't much more sophisticated. Then again, maybe that's just how she likes it. Not every Huntress has to be striving to look like the embodiment of individuality, all the time. Her attitude shouldn't be that weird.
Mostly she's spent her time and money on new bracers. You're not tidally - totally sure what's special about these apart from the quality of the metal, but she's been implying there's some kind of interesting feature she wants to keep a surprise.
"Get ofur here! The school humans are aboat to start talking."
... You've gotten used to a few things about Nepeta Leijon, but her uncomfortable way of talking about other people, especially humans, always throws you for a loop.
"Where are your friends? I thought you were meeting them here."
She rolls her eyes.
"Aradia's off causing troububble somewhere, like usual. I'll catch up to them later."
The room goes quiet in response to the screech of a microphone being adjusted (you try not to wince), and youturn your head away from Nepeta and her flicking tail to the podium, where the headmaster's fiddling with the equipment. He looks out across the room, looking almost unexpectedly serious.
"I'll... keep this brief," he says, and you remember the surprising warmth from him when you first met him. It's hard not to think of it, when you're hearing its complete absence. "You have traveled here today in search of knowledge, to hone your craft and acquire new skills, and when you have finished you plan to dedicate your life to the protection of the people. But I look amongst you, and all I see is wasted energy, in need of purpose, direction."
Okay, that's a really uncomfortable sentiment. He's... probably right, though, and maybe that's why it feels this way. All you are is wasted energy, at least, and while you wouldn't use such harsh language about Nepeta, she's probably the same thing. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves. You're here because you can't think of anything better.
"You assume knowledge will free you of this," he continues, "but your time at this school will prove that knowledge can only carry you so far." Yeah, there are probably some people in this crowd who'll need to hear that. You, though, you know it all too well.
"It is up to you to take the first step."
And then he just... leaves. That might have been the least motivating speech someone could possibly give to a bunch of teenagers without being cruel. This guy obviously had hidden depths, who doesn't, but still. You make a mental note to watch yourself around him even more than you already would have.
Professor Goodwitch, who you remember seeing in hologram form on the flight here, steps up in his place.
"You will gather in the ballroom tonight; tomorrow, your initiation begins. Be ready. You are dismissed."
And then she's gone, too, and the room descends into whispers.
You wonder how many takes she had to record to fake that gentle, motherly tone you had kind of expected her to hold on to. Wow.
"Whale, that was interesting! He didn't even execute anybody for being late. This school is purrty gentle, isn't it?"
"Riiiight," you manage. She is not being at all sarcastic, is she?
Well, this is it. It's a little bit of a relief, now that you're processing it, to see that Beacon Academy isn't still trying to hide its sharper edges. You're okay with an institution being reasonably strict. If they'd been saccharine much longer, that probably would have been a much worse sign.
Whatever happens, however unlike your expectations this could be, it's better than going back. Anything is better than going back. Dying would be better, because at least you'd get to die as the person you really are, whoever that is.
You don't intend to run from anything anymore. The only direction you'll let yourself move is forward.