Okay, I'm willing to admit that I'm a little disappointed in the turnout (or lack thereof) of Reviews for recent chapters. Especially with how much work I put into "Cocoa & Honey" and all the dialogue that I hope came out as funny when I wrote it.
Fingers crossed the upcoming chapter warrants something a little more substantial. Especially from my long-time readers who've always been really good about giving lengthy Reviews when they did leave Reviews.
All that being said, hope you all enjoy "Wandering Stray". Happy reading!
*GIANT-SLAYER*
Blake Belladonna was not a happy girl.
Why was she not a happy girl?
Because the long-lost big brother, whose memories-of she'd repressed up to that point, had been blatantly assaulted in broad daylight (technically evening) by an enemy she hadn't even known about until that very same day.
Witnessing this act against Jack had only served to reinforce the utter lack of tangible change on the Council's part. Human/Faunus relations were as bad as they'd ever been, and any steps they had taken were too few and too little; not to mention too far in-between. Knowing that this utter lack of change was intentional on the behest of a third party put things into perspective for her, but knowing what she did now, left a knot of uncertainty in her gut.
Was she right to leave the White Fang the way she had?
Was Adam wrong in his approach all things considered?
How did you go about fighting people like that? People who would go so far as to start a war just so they'd have an excuse to wipe you out?
Somehow, Jack was able to sleep at night despite everything he knew about the world. Hell, the fact that he could even sleep soundly after his time as a literal slave was nothing short of amazing. But Jack was made of much sterner stuff than her, and she was now worried about the future more than ever. Would her paranoia regarding the world around her cause her to doubt and mistrust everything and everyone? Wouldshe be able to cope with all she'd been told?
This was why Blake set off on her own. Because she needed time to be alone. Time to think.
She'd had both the rug and the floor underneath it pulled out from under her, and she needed time to build a new foundation for herself. A way cope with and bear the weight of the world around her, whether it needed to be borne by her or not.
It was to this end that Blake bound gracefully across the rooftops of Vale's darkened skyline. Nary more than a black blur against the evening sky, most would think her to be nothing more than a trick of the eye, and before anyone could get a good look at her as she'd passed, she'd already vanished.
As her hair rippled in the wind behind her, Blake breathed in the night air, relishing in the solitude as she drowned everything else out. Without the myriad of distractions to be found back at Beacon, let alone the dorm room filled with wildly-contrasting personality types, she was finally able to think for as long and for as hard as she needed to.
"Long and hard? You mean like my-"
Tucker don't you even-!
"But you make it so easy."
"You mean like in between two alien and human... ladies?"
"Caboose, seriously? You're not gonna get me to say it with that lame-ass joke. I'm not that easy."
. . .
" . . . Okay, well maybe I am that easy, bow-chicka-bow-wow. See, now that's a set-up."
God damn it, Tucker.
'And on top of this…' Blake thought as she came to a stop, 'There's still… this…' she hummed to herself as her ears waggled beneath her bow. 'Maybe I really should get around to having that talk with everyone… instead of putting it off every single day…'
Before she could think on this further though, the sound of hurried footsteps from the street below caught her attention.
Ghosting over to the edge of the roof, the girl looked across the street to see a Rabbit Faunus mother and her son walking hurriedly away from two people in infuriatingly familiar white hooded jackets. A few seconds later and a third hoodie-wearing teen appeared in front of them from around the corner. The mother and child making to cross the street, that avenue was cut off by a fourth, the four white-hooded teens herding the pair of Faunus into a back alley they'd just passed.
Blake's blood boiling in her veins, the raven-haired girl stealthily made her way across the street, ready to interfere if need be.
*GIANT-SLAYER*
About an hour ago, the four Circle of Man teens (who henceforth shall be referred to as "Teleporter", "Armor", "Cloak" and "Strength") were brought into the VPD headquarters for processing after the dual assault-arson they perpetrated earlier that evening. The experience wasn't anything new for them, they'd been to the VPD enough times they could navigate the place with their eyes closed due to their long-standing habit.
Of course, because society as a whole didn't see said habit as "a bad thing", they weren't there for very long.
That's why ultimately, their processing at the VPD wasn't anything more than an inconvenience or a formality. Because as far as the Human-centric police force was concerned, what happened to "animals" simply wasn't their problem. Sure, there were naysayers who opposed this mentality, but it's not like there were enough of them to really do anything about it.
As such, the four teenagers, their break ended, decided to go back to doing what they did best; picking on those who couldn't fight back, and enjoying every second of it. Their Aura may've been depleted to varying degrees, but they chose to pick on the impoverished and downtrodden for the very reason that they couldn't fight back. Hence, the "inconvenience" from earlier was nothing more than a mild irritant.
And here was where they were now, cornering a pair of "sub-humans" in a back alley, their backs quite literally to the walls as the four teens swaggered forward, shifting their clothes to reveal the knives at their sides. With no other witnesses nearby, the four felt no need to conceal their identities, allowing the wicked expressions on their faces to show.
The four teens relishing in the two's fearful eyes, all the tension was suddenly cut as a door off to the side opened, a white-haired teenager with a bandaged arm and an apron cutting straight across them with a pair of trash bags in his hands. Walking by unawares, the teen tossed the bags into the nearby dumpster, idly clapping the dust from his hands. Rounding on his heel and heading back from whence he came, he made it halfway through the alley before finally registering their sum presence, looking between both sides before asking-
"Mind if I ask what you're doing behind my shop? This wouldn't happen to be loitering, would it?"
"None of your business, kid. Just turn around and walk away," Armor asserted strongly. "Go on. Get out of here," he said waving the teen away.
" . . . "
The white-haired teen looking once more over his shoulder to the two Faunus, he saw the mother looking up at him with desperate, pleading eyes, her son burying his face into her stomach as he shook like a leaf. The shopkeeper turning his attention back to the four hoodie-clad teens, they made a point to punctuate the knives at their sides, once more shooing him away. The teen turning away from all involved, he began to walk away, the mother clutching her child desperately as a wave of despair washed over her, the four Circle teens chuckling as the show got back onto the proverbial road.
The backdoor opening, instead of abdicating himself of what was to come, the shopkeeper said something that shocked all observing parties.
Cue Dragon Ball FighterZ OST – Captain Ginyu Theme
"Get inside and lock the door behind you. I just need a quick minute to take out the trash."
The mother's eyes swelling with tears of joy, she took hold of her child and hurriedly ushered him through the open door, a muttering of- "Pulse bless you." –passing her lips before she closed the door behind her. A slight *Click* sounding, the white-haired teen tested the doorknob, ensuring it was locked, before turning to the remaining four teens, popping his knuckles as their expressions grew more hateful.
"You just made a big mistake…" Armor growled as he stepped forward, shaking his fist angrily at the white-haired teen. "We will not abide you harboring those… sub-humans from us!"
"Well, the way I see it, you're trespassing on private property, so you can either turn around and walk away peacefully, or I can show you the door," the white-haired teen rebutted. " . . . And when I say door, I mean the end of this alleyway. Because there's no door door," he went on to amend lazily.
"Yeah? Well news flash, there's four of us, and only one of you," Strength sneered mockingly.
"Man, you must suck at math even worse than me," the white-haired teen said with a dismissive shrug.
"What do you mean?" Teleporter asked.
"There's only three of you."
"That's not right-" Armor said before a trashcan lid suddenly caught him in the middle of the face, the teen thrown clear off his feet and landing flat on his back a moment later, the other three white-clothed teens looking up at the shopkeeper with shocked expressions.
"I'm sorry, what was that about there being four of you?" the white-haired teen asked with a raised brow as he idly rolled his shoulder.
"What the fuck just happened?!" Cloak demanded as he gestured to Armor's prone form.
"He got the Aura kicked out of him earlier, that's what happened. And an hour in the clink isn't going to fix that," Teleporter bit out.
"It was just a lucky shot, nothing more," Strength bit out, affixing a pair of brass knuckles to his fingers. " . . . Well? Don't just stand there, get him!" he shouted as he ran forward.
"We know," the two stated.
"And don't stab me in the back this time!" he said zipping his hood down over his face.
"We know!" the two repeated as they drew their own hoods shut.
Teleporter reaching into a pouch on the small of his back and drawing two knives, he then threw the at his friend's back. Said knives briefly disappeared before reappearing in front of their intended target, the shopkeeper letting out a startled yelp as he crossed his arms, the first bouncing off his right arm with a metallic *Clink* while the second sliced into his left sleeve, drawing blood.
"Eat your teeth!" Strength shouted as he opened with a right hook, the shopkeeper hopping back to evade. The white-hooded teen following with a left straight, the shopkeeper countered with a right corkscrew. Brass knuckles meeting bandaged, for the briefest of instances the brass knuckles held, but all that changed when the hand-to-hand weapon's metal began to buckle in on itself. Fingers scattering like cut sausage links, the brass knuckles acting like a cigar cutter for each digit, the bones in Strength's wrist popped one by one like bubble wrap, followed by the bones in his arm bursting out of his flesh as his wrist broke and burst in six different places.
"Huh. Guess my robot arm's stronger than my regular arm," the shopkeeper hummed idly, flexing his fingers as some of the bandages on his forearm began to fall away.
"AAAAAAAAUGH! SON OF A BIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH!" Strength shrieked as he cradled the ruined appendage, sounding as though he'd been literally emasculated.
"LANGUAGE!" the shopkeeper shouted as he brought his hand across the guy's face.
Metallic palm meeting face with a deafening *WHAP!*, bone and cartilage splintered like a dry cracker under someone's heel, a combination of blood and spittle leaving the Circle teen's mouth. Reeling from the blow, he was sent into the nearby wall with a bone-jarring *WHUD* that echoed into the night air. His visage briefly clinging to brick, a moment later the teen began to slide to the ground leaving his compatriots gaping at the shopkeeper with terrified looks on their faces. Their mouths opening and closing wordlessly, the remaining two resembling a pair of fish out of water, the shopkeeper then let out a tired sigh as his left hand went to the back of his neck, idly rubbing the nape before he turned his attention back to the two "trespassers".
"And then there were two," he said in a suddenly-cold voice that sent chills down their spines, his leveled heterochromatic eyes like glacial ice. "Now…" he said chillingly, their attention sufficiently drawn as panicked eyes looked into his from behind closed hoods. "Do you still want to go through that door?" he asked jabbing a finger at said door the two Faunus had escaped through. "Or are you going to pick up your friends and leave quietly?" he questioned. "Word of advice, take the out. The camera back there caught everything, so I can press charges if I need to," he then inclined his thumb towards an unlit corner of the alley.
"N-N-Not if we kill you first and destroy the tapes!" Teleporter squeaked out as he shakily drew a trio of throwing knives into each hand.
"Cover me!" Cloak shouted as he ran forward with a knife in his right hand, a flurry of knives flying at his back and disappearing alongside the running teen.
"That disappearing knife trick is starting to get really stale," the shopkeeper said as he closed his eyes. The knives nearly upon him as they reappeared, the shopkeeper's left eye suddenly snapped open.
His right hand shooting out in a darting flurry, bandages loosened from the earlier knife strike unfurled, the knives swiftly finding new homes between chromed fingers. Tossing three of the knives into his idle hand, the shopkeeper then furled the knives in his right hand out in a fan of blades, two of them blooming red in mid-air. The cloaked teen letting out a yelp as he came to a stop, blood spreading across his hoodie and his Semblance deactivating, as he looked up from his wounded gut, the next thing he saw was the bottom of the shopkeeper's sole as it planted itself firmly in his face, the Circle teen buckling as he was used as a springboard.
"S-Stay away from meee!" Teleporter squealed at the high-flying teen as he fumbled for more knives. Before he could arm himself, three of the knives from before suddenly found home in his shoulders and left thigh, the shopkeeper shoulder-rolling into a somersault before leaping into a flying knee kick that struck him in the face. Bone and cartilage didn't stand a chance, a satisfying *CRUNCH* filling the night air before the Circle teen's head was snapped back.
"Dammit!" Cloak swore as he rubbed his nose, turning around to see his third and final comrade knocked out. "You… I'm going to kill you for this!" he shouted as he ran forward, his Semblance pulling him out of sight moments later. "But first, I'm going to make you bleed!" his voice shouted out of nowhere, a line of blood pouring out of the shopkeeper's right side a moment later as he was slashed. "Slowly! And painfully!"
"It isn't death that I'm afraid of…" the shopkeeper said crossing his arms in front of his face, blood spraying out of his left shoulder as he was slashed once again. "And I'm not afraid to bleed either…" As he spoke, wounds continued to blossom across his body. "What I'm afraid of most… is bleeding and having bled for nothing!" he shouted as he furiously squeezed the wound at his side with his left hand before swinging it out in an arc.
Droplets of blood flying through the air, a line of them spattered against something at face level, one of them catching the Circle teen right in the eye. His Semblance vanishing out of shock, the Circle teen made a sloppy slash with his knife that the shopkeeper dodged, his right ear and kidney exposed to the subsequent one-two jab that sent him reeling.
Trying for a reverse slash, his effort bore no fruit as the shopkeeper ducked before delivering a swift shin kick to his exposed stomach followed by a brutal left hook to the right side of his jaw.
Reeling away from the blow, the Circle teen rounded on the shopkeeper once more and aimed a stab at his face. The white-haired teen catching it at the wrist and letting it fly over his left shoulder, he ducked under the extended limb and twisted it out straight behind the Circle teen's back before kicking at his right calf and forcing him to his knees.
The shopkeeper's left foot coming up and catching the Circle teen in the right side of the face, the knife held in his hand was violently wrenched free as he was sent skidding across the ground face-first. Sliding for several meters, the crown of his head hit the base of a nearby dumpster before he was sent cartwheeling upward. The teen's back striking the edge of the dumpster on the way down, the trash receptacle shook before it fell closed over him a moment later.
END OST
"Finally… it's all over," the shopkeeper sighed tiredly, only for his open eye to snap upward. "Almost," he added chillingly, the remaining bystander flinching as his attention fell on her. "Now then… Are you going to attack me like the rest of your friends too?" he asked as the last Circle teen desperately raised himself out of the dumpster, only to receive brutal right hook to the face that sent a tooth flying before he collapsed into the trash receptacle once more. "Or are you going to be smart about it and run away?"
"N-No! I'm not with them!" the fight's sole spectator said hurriedly as she jumped down, raising her hands in front of her body disarmingly. "I was just passing by when I saw everything go down, and I guess I was so surprised by how the fight was going that when I finally thought to get involved, the fight was already over," Blake admitted.
" . . . Well that's alright then," the shopkeeper said as his face brightened and his other eye opened. A friendly smile replacing the indifferent look he'd once had, the sudden shift in paradigm completely cut through the tension that had once hung in the air. "You know… You look eerily familiar," he hummed idly as he rubbed his chin. "Have we met before? I don't know that many girls who wear bows in their hair like you do."
"We uh… passed by each other when my friend got sent through your store's window…" Blake answered nervously as she appraised the teen in front of her. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked as she eyed the numerous cuts across his body, his uniform red with blood. "There's… a lot of blood on that uniform…"
"Yeah, don't worry about me. I'm a fast healer," the shopkeeper waved off casually.
"R… Riiight…" Blake muttered in face of the teen's dismissive tone, trying and failing to get a bead on him.
One moment he's an ordinary shopkeeper taking out the trash in the middle of the night, and the next he's a cold and ruthless fighter sending Human supremacists flying every which way. The transition was a complete 180 on his part, and while she'd only encountered him a single time prior, the change was so sudden it'd caught her completely off-guard. The fact that he could change from soft-hearted to violent and then back to soft-hearted again in a matter of moments had her wondering if he was like The Man with Two Souls as her imagination ran a little bit wild.
Then again, with all the eerily cryptic shit Jack was blathering on about that morning, how could one's imagination not run wild?
Unlike those who had probably never left the safety of their walled cities and Kingdoms, Jack probably knew what the outside world was really like.
"But still…" Blake said nervously as she looked at the three unconscious teens spread out across the alley, then to the dumpster where the fourth had landed. "What are you going to do about them?"
"Yes… That's a very good question…" the shopkeeper hummed as he idly tapped his chin, acting as though this weren't really his problem.
"Perhaps we can be of assistance," a voice said out of nowhere,Blake's hairs standing on end as she whirled around. Stepping out from the shadows were a half-dozen Faunus clad in jet black hoodies, their animal features proudly protruding from holes specially-cut in the tops of their cowls, their features obscured by bone-white shutter shades.
'Are they… the White Fang?!' Blake gaped as she akinned the shutters to the horizontal slats in the White Fang's own masks. As their presence dawned on her, a wave of contradicting emotions washed over her, the girl unprepared to see any of her ex-brethren so soon after what Jack had told her that day.
"Do I know you?" the shopkeeper asked with a tilt of his head, an utterly nonplussed expression on his face as the six Faunus filed into the alleyway.
"No," the Faunus that stepped forward, presumably the leader, stated. "However, we believe that what you've done for those two," he said inclining his head toward the door, "shouldn't go unrewarded."
"Oh, well I appreciate this," the shopkeeper said nonchalantly, the other Faunus taking it as a signal to start fitting restraints onto the unconscious Circle teens. "Still, why go so far to help someone you don't even know?"
"You…" the lead Faunus said before pausing pensively. "You were willing to bleed, to die for someone that you didn't know," he said after a few moments. "A lot of Faunus hate Humans for how they've treated us, but you… You're different than them. I don't know why… but I feel like I can trust you with those that are inside."
" . . . Well that's good. I was totally bluffing about the camera back there," the shopkeeper admitted with a grin, Blake and the other Faunus going slack-jawed at the proclamation. "I was worried I might get the old man into trouble over this, so this is actually a really big weight off my shoulders," he said as he scratched the back of his head. "Anyway, I was about to close up shop, but if you or your friends want anything, I'm willing to stay open a little longer."
"No… thank you…" the leader replied, taken off guard by the genuinity of the Human's offer, finding not a single hint of resentment or prejudice in his words or actions. "It's actually for the best you forget about us."
"Okay. Have a nice night," the shopkeeper said waving them off without a second thought as he turned around, Blake scrambling to follow after him before any of the suspected White Fang potentially recognized her.
*GIANT-SLAYER*
Blake following after the shopkeeper into his place of employment, the raven-haired girl tested the locks behind him as the shopkeeper ventured into the back of the store. As he did, the raven-haired girl couldn't help but think of how much she'd hated his guts when he'd seemingly abandoned the two Faunus from before; how eagerly she'd been to demonize him before realizing his stepping-towards the door was meant to secure their escape route. Were these the sorts of feelings that Jack juggled every day? To expect only the worse of every Human you'd come across and be prepared to think the worst of them at only a moment's notice?
"You two can come out now," the shopkeeper said looking towards a couple stacked crates of product, two pairs of rabbit ears poking up.
"Are… Are the bad people gone?" the small Faunus child asked, his ears pressed back against his head as he timidly stepped around the corner.
"Yeah, they're gone," the shopkeeper said as he dropped down to a knee in front of him. "Don't worry. They won't hurt you ever again," he said with a kind look in his eye.
"Thank you… Thank you so much…" the mother said with watering eyes. "I thought… I thought that was going to be the end for us…"
"Sorry if I scared you two when I walked away," the shopkeeper apologized as he removed his apron and hung it on a hook. "I needed to be sure your escape route was secure, so I kinda had to play into what those guys wanted of me."
'Great, now I feel even more guilty…' Blake thought to herself.
"Hallowed Pulse! You're hurt!" the mother gaped as she caught sight of the blood.
"Not anymore, see?" the shopkeeper asked as he pulled up his shirt.
"But… I saw you get split open with a knife… Why isn't there a wound now?" Blake asked as she eyed his right side. Where once there was a gaping slash wound, all that was left now was dried blood. Apart from that and the tears in his clothing, no other traces he'd been hurt existed.
"Like I said before, I'm a fast healer," the shopkeeper waved off as he pulled down his shirt.
'Did he use Aura to heal himself?' Blake wondered. 'No… If he had an Aura, he wouldn't have gotten hurt in the first place, so that just begs the question… How'd he heal so fast?'
"Anyway, I'm about to close up shop. After I get changed out of these clothes, do you want some help getting home?" he asked tugging at his blood-crusted attire.
"You've done so much already, we couldn't possibly…" the mother said uncertainly before her son clutched onto her leg, a frightened look dominating his face. "Then again… as long as it isn't too much trouble…"
"It's no trouble at all," the shopkeeper waved off. "By the way…" The next moment he whirled around and turned to Blake. "Why the heck did you follow me in here?"
"I-I… Uhhh…" she said nervously. 'What am I supposed to say? That I didn't want to stick around long enough to be recognized by them?' she asked herself. "I uh… wanted to clear up our misunderstanding from earlier."
"You mean where you let those racist a-holes attack and cut me?" he asked gesturing to the blood spots on his clothes.
" . . . Yes," Blake answered after a few moments, finding no other way to answer than with the truth.
" . . . Okay," the shopkeeper said with an upward lilt, Blake's eye twitching at how laid-back he was.
*GIANT-SLAYER*
"So…" Blake hummed as she and the shopkeeper proceeded to escort the two Faunus home. "What's your name?" she felt the need to ask. "I didn't really catch it last time we met."
"Vincent," the white-haired teen replied. "I guess."
"I'm sorry, you guess?" Blake asked with a raised brow. "How can you not know your own name?"
"Well, amnesia tends to do that to people," Vincent shrugged as he scratched at his head. "I don't remember a lot, and my given name is just barely something I remember."
"Excuse me if I'm a bit skeptical about your claims," Blake said coolly.
"Why would I lie about that? I really do have amnesia," Vincent said raking up the bangs above his right eye. Revealed to the Faunus girl's amber eyes was a large jagged scar running down the course of his forehead above his eye, looking as though someone had tried to split his head open with a sledgehammer.
"Oh… I am so sorry," the girl hastily apologized. "I guess I'm just a bit paranoid today."
"About what?" Vincent asked as he brushed his bangs back down.
"You don't need to worry about it," Blake waved off, noticing the four of them were now headed into one of the… poorer parts of Vale. "How long until we get to your home?" she found herself asking.
"It's just a few minutes away," the mother said tiredly.
"What were you even doing so far from home so late at night?" Blake wondered. The Rabbit Faunus' attire may not've had patches or been threadbare, but it was definitely second-hand, and just a little out of place in the cleaner parts of Vale's Commercial District where everyone wore name-brand clothes.
"Mommy was trying to get a job, but the mean people at the place wouldn't hire her because of her animal ears," the small child said sadly.
"Shush. That isn't why it happened," the mother chided, though the tone in her voice showed she didn't actually believe that.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Vincent said with a disheartened expression.
"There's nothing to apologize for," the mother said shaking her head. "You were willing to fight and bleed for us when no one else would," she said softly, Blake flinching in the background. "That kindness and bravery… it was more than enough to brighten my day," the woman said with a smile. "Thank you. Thank you so much," she said wiping tears from her eye.
"Hey, don't mention it. I just did what anyone would've done," Vincent shrugged.
"But that isn't what just anyone would've done," Blake said with narrowed eyes. "You could've gotten seriously hurt, even killed. Why didn't you use your Aura to protect yourself?" she said gesturing to the holes in his clothes.
"Huh?"
"Your Aura," Blake repeated.
"Gesundheit," Vincent returned.
"Vincent, do you… know what Aura is?"
"Not in the slightest," Vincent replied casually with a shake of his head, leaving Blake to openly gape at the admittance.
"But then… If you don't have Aura, how could you regenerate the way you did?" Blake asked. At first she assumed his Aura was either really weak or just completely untrained, so the fact he could regenerate from so many knife wounds so quickly… It didn't really add up to her.
"I've been a fast healer for as long as I can remember. Which admittedly isn't really that long," Vincent said idly scratching his cheek. "Certainly helps out in the kitchen though," he dismissed with a shrug. "Why do you ask?"
"Um… No reason…" Blake bit out. If the person in front of her didn't have an Aura, then that wasn't really any concern of hers. And while it wasn't necessarily illegal for a Hunter to awaken the Aura in civilians, if said civilian were to perpetrate a crime while aided by said Aura, the unlocking-of could easily backlash on her if her passive involvement was revealed. Not to mention, whatever constitution he had wasn't really any of her business.
After all, it wasn't like she'd ever see him again after tonight. Right?
"By the way… What's your name again?" Vincent suddenly asked.
"It's Blake," she replied.
"Okay. Nice to meet you, Blake," Vincent said with a beaming smile that caused the girl's heart to skip a beat. "So… Not to intrude or anything, but what're you doing out so late all by your lonesome?"
"I just needed a little space from the rest of my team," Blake replied.
"Oh. So then does that mean your team won't send anyone flying through the storefront window again?"
"Why're you so hung up on that?"
"Because someone has to clean it up, and by someone, I mean me," the shopkeeper replied. "Last time that happened, it almost gave the old man an aneurysm?"
"You mean your grandfather?" Blake inquired.
"Oh no, nothing like that. He's just the guy who patched me up after he found me bleeding all over his garbage."
"Um… Excuse me?" Blake inquired with a raised brow.
"You're excused," Vincent replied causing the girl to facepalm.
"We're here," the Faunus mother interrupted the two, the group of four now stopped in a grungy-looking apartment complex, Vale's protective wall visible in the distance. "Thank you so much for escorting us home," she said turning her attention to Vincent. "After what happened, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to muster the courage to do so on my own."
"It wasn't any problem," Vincent waved off. "You two have a good night."
"Thank you. Thank you so much for all you've done," the woman said bowing to him, her child doing the same before the two hurried into the apartment building and getting off the streets.
"What nice people," Vincent hummed with a smile. "Anyway, it's getting pretty darned late. You need an escort back home too?" he offered.
"That… won't be necessary," Blake hummed as she read the teen's face. There wasn't anything in his expression to imply he thought she needed an escort, or that he had any ulterior motive, it was simply a genuinely-made offer. "Plus, I think Beacon Academy might be a little out-of-the-way for you."
"Well I'm sorry to disappoint you then, but the last airship to Beacon probably left… right now," he said pointing skyward, Blake craning her neck and looking up with wide eyes to see one final airship flying off into the distance.
" . . . Crap!" the girl bit out angrily, the loud *GROWRRRRRRRR* from her midriff causing her to flush red in embarrassment a moment later.
"Well, nothing you can do about it now. Next airship doesn't leave until morning," the shopkeeper returned as he started walking back toward Vale's interior. "If you want, I can treat you to something while you think about what to do for tonight. I kinda feel like it's my fault you were late anyway," he said bashfully.
"No, no, it wasn't your fault. I lost track of time is all," Blake dismissed. "And you don't need to worry about me, I can take care of my-"
A moment later her stomach let out another rumbling *GROWRRRRRRRR*, the raven-haired beauty going red in the face as Vincent looked at her exposed midriff before angling his eyes back up to hers. Utterly embarrassed at the turn of events, before her body could betray her further, Blake sucked up her pride and said-
" . . . I'd like to reconsider that offer. If it's still on the table."
*GIANT-SLAYER*
"So Blake, what're you going to Beacon for?" Vincent asked as he walked along. "Art? Science? Politics?"
"I plan on becoming a Huntress," Blake answered as she followed behind him, spurred on by the promise of a free meal for a rumbling stomach.
"Well you certainly have the attributes for it."
"Excuse me!?" Blake shrieked, crossing her arms protectively over her chest.
"Your calves. And your foreceps. You must be in really good shape, so I can definitely see you becoming a Huntress," Vincent said over his shoulder with a beaming smile. "Why? What did you think I was talking about?" he asked with a tilt of his head.
" . . . Nothing. Don't worry about it," Blake said as she felt her anger evaporating. Looking down at her foreceps, Blake wasn't sure whether to be flattered, or insulted that the first thing to pop into the older teen's head was that of her "lesser" attributes. 'Does he have some weird sort of fetish, or is he really that… oblivious?' she wondered, only to think back to the jagged-looking scar on his forehead. 'Come to think of it, the first time I saw him his forehead was covered in bandages. And what was that about him bleeding all over someone's garbage?'
"So Blake, what're you in the mood for?" Vincent asked as he came to a stop in front of a closed street-side noodle bar. It wasn't very large, maybe big enough for a half-dozen people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, the roof colored dark green in a Hogyo style with gold-colored bamboo-like edging. Hanging in front of the metal shutters stopping halfway to the ground was a wall of curtains, the one in the middle bearing a sign reading A Simple Wok Noodle House, the sign itself featuring two straw hat-clad individuals in front of a massive bowl of noodles, a pointy black tower in the background.
In response to this, Blake said the first thing that came to her mind.
"Fish."
She then clamped her hands over her mouth in embarrassment.
"I can work with that," Vincent said walking around the side of the building and entering a door, the shutters rising up a few moments later followed by a series of overhead lights turning on. "Normally we close on Sundays, but the old man gave me a spare key in case I wanted a bowl in the middle of the night."
*GROWRRRRRRRRRR*
"Shut up! You're embarrassing me!" Blake hissed at her midriff as she hurried into the noodle bar, taking in the décor once she was past the curtains. The walls were colored an inviting shade of yellow, the framing across the room a warm shade of red not unlike the Torii gates scattered throughout Mistral. Situated above were a few softly-glowing lights, and four metal stools with red cushions in front of a waist-level counter. In the back was a small kitchen that made an effective use of the limited space, given there were only four stools in front of the waist-height counter.
"It'll take a while for the boilers to warm up. Would you like something to drink in the meantime?" Vincent asked from the kitchen as he changed into a clean apron.
"Just water is fine," Blake replied, not wanting to inconvenience him. "So… Amnesia huh? How'd that happen?" she found herself asking as the teen washed his hands.
"Well, the thing about amnesia is, you don't really remember how you lost your memories. Otherwise it wouldn't really be amnesia," Vincent said bringing her a tall glass of water. With a slice of lemon to boot.
"That's fair, I guess," Blake replied as she grabbed a straw and squeezed a few drops of lemon into her beverage. "So… What do you remember?" she asked as Vincent began gathering together ingredients from the kitchen and depositing them into a large bowl on the other side of the counter.
"Not much. I remember the obvious stuff like my first name, and how to breathe, and go to the bathroom," he said pouring a heaping of flour, milk, and eggs into the bowl in front of him. "Apart from that…" he said adding a pinch of salt. "I don't really recall much else."
"Not even your hometown?" Blake wondered.
"Well, if I'm from Vale, no one filed a missing person's report on me," Vincent shrugged as he held up one hand. Said hand glowing with a faint silver aura, wisps of wind began to gather in his palm, culminating into a whirling sphere that he slowly lowered into the pile of ingredients.
'He's mixing the ingredients together with his Aura?' Blake awed at the sight before her, gaping as the flour, eggs, and milk were flawlessly mixed together in front of her. 'Wait a minute… Vincent said he doesn't have Aura!' the raven-haired girl thought going wide eyed. 'If he doesn't have Aura, then what is he using?' she asked herself as the winds died away, leaving in its wake an immaculately-blended ball of dough. "How… did you do that?"
"Making noodles?" Vincent asked as he began to stretch and fold the dough in front of her. "Old Man Wok taught me how a few weeks ago. Said it's most-satisfying to make it yourself from scratch instead of using instant. And if the taste is any indicator, I'd have to agree."
'He's fixating on the wrong aspect!' Blake gaped with a slack jaw, watching as the dough continued to grow thinner on each fold until it formed a large mound of noodles. 'Does he not realize how phenomenal that mixing technique is? Or does he think it's amazing because of the amnesia?'
"Anywho, Wok showed me pictures of all the Kingdoms from his travels, but nothing really jumped out at me like "that's where I'm from"," he said bringing the heaping pile of noodles into the kitchen. "So… unless someone comes by with some kind of proof about my previous identity, this noodle bar and the Dust shop from before are all I've really known," he said gathering an armful of ingredients from the fridge and began preparing them out of sight.
"That sounds… frightening…" Blake hummed as the sound of something hitting a skillet met her ears, the girl pausing slightly as a mouth-watering smell wafted into the air. "Not having any memories, I mean."
"Well, it isn't that bad. You can't really be worried about memories you don't even have," the teen said idly. "Then again, if I still had my memories, well, it wouldn't' really be amnesia."
"Excuse me if I say something offensive. I've never actually met someone with amnesia before. Or at least I've never met anyone who wasn't faking it," Blake said idly. "So um… Any chance you remember how you got that Automail arm?" she asked, thinking back to the feats of durability it had displayed.
"Nope. I'm as-in-the-dark as you are," Vincent shrugged as he flipped whatever was in the skillet. "The most I can recall is that I lost the original arm somehow, but that really isn't all that much when you consider you kinda have to lose an arm to get a prosthesis installed. So yeah, just another mystery I have to solve."
"That's too bad," Blake hummed. Back on Menagerie, before she left, the only ones she'd ever seen with Automail were war veterans, or those that had lost their limbs to the SDC's over-hazardous working conditions. She couldn't imagine someone so young losing their limb and having to completely replace it. *Sniff-Sniff* "Wow that smells really good," she said wiping the corner of her mouth as the smell of cooking fish tickled her nose.
"It should, I put a-hundred-and-ten percent into this meal," Vincent replied.
"It's just a bowl of ramen, no need to get so worked up over it."
"You can only talk like that because you have all your memories, but me… Everything before last month is completely gone. So don't belittle what I do remember; what I'm good at now," the white-haired teen bit out.
"I… I'm sorry. That came out wrong," Blake apologized, a feeling of guilt washing over her.
" . . . It's alright. It's easier to forgive someone than it is to hold a grudge," the white-haired teen waved off.
'I wish someone else thought that way…' Blake sighed tiredly. 'Then again… how could he not hold a grudge, after what happened?' she asked thinking about her brother, so-lost in thought was she that she didn't notice the large bowl of noodles being placed before her until the smell of cooked fish wafted deep into her nose. "Haaaaahh~" Blake sighed wistfully as she was drawn back to reality by the siren's call, her eyes hungrily devouring the dish placed before her as her eyes twinkled, her heart pounded in her chest with a *Ba-dum*Ba-dum*Ba-dum*, and an uncontrollable river of drool fell from the corner of her mouth. "That… looks… delicious!" she awed between swallowing her spit as she beheld the perfectly roasted fish before her, the large, fatty-looking tuna cooked whole and glistening like polished silver.
"Thank you. The old man has a friend in the wholesale business, so we can get a pretty good deal on product," Vincent said dabbing Blake's chin with a napkin, the girl blushing beet red as she pulled herself together, clamping her lips shut before any more drool could pour out. "Please, dig in."
'I can't believe I'm getting something like this for free…' Blake awed a she beheld the massive clay bowl before her.
Colored a deep shade of red with dark-red accents, the vessel that contained the wondrous bounty set before her was bigger than her torso. The fatty tuna laid atop a heaping mound of noodles was perfectly-shaped, and the noodles themselves resembled strung gold. The broth visible at the bottom of the bowl was no less spectacular, the flavored stock which resembled liquid bronze forming a wondrous trifecta to the eyes, nose, and mouth.
'Free…'
The word echoed through her mind, rippling like a stone cast into a clear pond as her thoughts were consumed by the moral quandary set before her. The entire premise of the free meal was predicated upon how he was seemingly at fault for making her late for her airship departure, even though shoehorning herself into his errand to escort the two Rabbit Faunus from earlier was solely her decision. To top it all off, the eye of the fish laid out before her now appeared to be solely fixated on her, silver meeting golden amber as the tuna stared up at her with its unwavering gaze.
"Quit staring at me like that."
"And I thought I had issues," Vincent said placing a bowl of his own next to hers.
"It isn't what it looks like!" Blake said with a blush on her face after being caught talking to her food.
"If you're going to talk to your meal the whole time, save the head for last, otherwise it'll get cold by the time you're done talking," Vincent said as he dug into his own heaping bowl of noodles, accentuated with hard-boiled eggs, strips of pork, squares of seaweed, and narutomaki.
'How can something as ordinary as a bowl of ramen look so goooood?!' Blake gaped as she beheld the teen's own bounty. Her stomach bellowing out another loud gurgle, the girl got over her embarrassment as she took a pair of chopsticks from the cup in front of her and began digging into her meal, ravenously ripping the fatty tuna to shreds before bringing it and the noodles to her mouth.
The last thing she remembered before everything became a blur was a tide of the sea's bounty washing over her and the chorus of angels.
*GIANT-SLAYER*
"Wow, you must've been really hungry," a familiar voice said aloud a while later, cutting the girl from her stupor as she snapped back to reality.
"Wha…?" she gaped as she beheld the bowl before her. Apart from a fish skeleton that was picked completely clean, the masonry was completely devoid of both noodles and broth. "What…? What happened?"
"You went totally bonkers is what happened," Vincent replied as he brought a few noodles up to his own mouth.
"What did I do?!" Blake demanded with a flushed face, her mind begging to know what happened while she was blissed out on the heavenly taste of noodles, fish, and broth.
"Hm? Oh, nothing much, you just tackled your bowl with absurd amounts of gusto. That's all," he waved off. "Then again, maybe that was just a regular amount of gusto. If it is, I don't really remember," he said to himself.
'That's all? That's all?!' Blake thought as he gaped at the aloof teen. 'Normally when a guy sees a girl act like that they get all weird about it!'
It took her a few moments to realize she'd used the word normally in context to a teen who had a really aggressive case of amnesia and quite possibly dis-associative identity disorder. After that she felt really stupid.
"You… You're very different from most people," Blake found herself saying aloud.
"Is there something wrong with being different from everyone else?" Vincent asked with a confused tilt of his head, a single finger placed on the side of his chin.
"N-No, there's nothing wrong with that…" Blake replied in wake of his large innocent-eyed gaze. "It's just… You seem so nonplussed by it is all. Not having any memories I mean. If it were me I'd be way more panicked over it."
"Yes, well, that's the thing about having amnesia," the teen sighed as he dug back into his meal. "You can't miss what you don't remember."
The white-haired teen's words registering in her mind, the girl had no way to respond to that, instead choosing only to nurse the glass of water she was given as the two sat in silence.
*GIANT-SLAYER*
"Thank you for the meal," Blake said with a bow as Vincent closed up the noodle bar.
"You're welcome," Vincent replied as he turned the key. "Still, you didn't have to clean the pots and pans by your lonesome. I could've helped."
"I wanted to return the favor, so it wasn't really any trouble," Blake replied. "You wouldn't take my money, so I had to repay you somehow."
"Well, as long as you're fine with it, I'm fine with it too," Vincent shrugged.
*Bring-Bring-Bring* *Bring-Bring-Bring*
"What the- Who could be calling at this hour?" Blake asked as she flipped open her Scroll. "Yang?"
"Yes! She picked up!" said blond whooped.
"Yang, don't you know what time it is?" Blake asked.
"Well… Kinda… You're late."
"Yes, I'm well aware of that," Blake deadpanned.
"Blake, we can talk about this later. For now, make your way over to the wall. I'm going to take the south river road and pick you up on my bike."
"Yang, no. It's late, and we have classes tomorrow," Blake dissuaded. "Go back to bed. I'll rent a room in town and take the first airship to Beacon in the morning."
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure," the bookish girl repeated. "I'm a big girl, and I can take care of myself."
"Funny, Jack said the same thing."
"Glad someone has confidence in me," she sighed.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, Yang. You just took that the wrong way," Blake sighed tiredly. "Anyway, I have to go. I'll see you in the morning."
"See you later, Blake."
"Yeah, see you later," she returned.
"Do you even have enough to rent a room for the night?" Vincent asked curiously, prompting the girl to hurriedly grab at her wallet and flip it open.
" . . . Crap," she bit out after realizing she had so little on her, the rest being back in her room at Beacon. Not to mention, without a line of credit, she had no means of borrowing money, and during her time in the White Fang, there was never any opportunity for her to get a credit card; and not just because it'd leave a paper trail and there were very strict policies against frivolous spending. "What am I going to do now?" she sighed tiredly as she rubbed her forehead.
"My place is just around the corner," Vincent said jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. "It isn't much, but I don't mind taking the sofa for the night."
"You'd really do that for me?" Blake asked with a raised brow. "We only just met tonight though."
"Maybe, but you make for great company," the shopkeeper shrugged. "Normally it's just me and the old man, so getting to eat dinner with a pretty girl was a nice change of pace," he said with a smile.
'How can you say that with a straight face, straight to my face?' Blake found herself flushing. Numerous would-be suitors had called her things like "beautiful", "hot", "gorgeous", and even "sexy", but the innocent way he tacked the wordy "pretty" onto his approximation of her that caused her face to heat up… She didn't really know what to think of it. "Well…" she hummed as she looked despondently toward her wallet, regretting not keeping more on her person. "If you really don't mind."
*GIANT-SLAYER*
"It isn't much, but feel free to make yourself at home," Vincent said as he unlocked the door, the raven-haired girl taking a look around as she processed the fact she was staying at a boy's place. It was one thing to read tawdry scenarios from a book where a guy and a girl in the same apartment was the least sexy thing to ever happen, but to be doing so in real life was a touch overwhelming for the bookish girl.
When he'd said his place was right around the corner, he wasn't joking. From Dust 'til Dawn was a little one-story shop surrounded by taller buildings and a back alley, and it just so happened that one of those buildings, around the corner from where Vincent's offer was made, was an apartment complex.
"Let me just grab a couple things from my room and then you can go to bed. We both have early mornings tomorrow after all," Vincent said going to the furthest-in room, Blake taking the opportunity to look around the place she was staying for the evening.
At the very front of the rather modest apartment was a small living room, decorated only by a three-cushion sofa, a bookshelf against the wall on the right, and an old TV situated atop it. Next to it was a kitchenette with the bare essentials and a small table that seated for one. On the other side of the wall from the kitchen was what appeared to be a bathroom. At the very end of the apartment was the bedroom, a single bunk and night stand visible from where she stood.
Apart from a couple books on the shelf, there weren't any decorations apart from what the apartment was already furbished with.
"So you live by yourself?" Blake found herself asking. "Seems like an odd mix for an amnesiac."
"Well, Wok's place only has enough room for one. That and he brought me up to speed so I can take care of myself, so I'm fine on my own," Vincent said coming out of the room, a blanket, pillow, and change of clothes tucked under his arm. Changed out of his work uniform, he was now clad in a plain white T-shirt and plaid-patterned monochrome-colored pajama pants.
Vincent appeared to be rather athletic in build, but Blake's attention was drawn to his most-distinguishing feature; the chromed Automail limb dangling from his right shoulder.
Like no Automail she'd ever seen, instead of the thick steel armor-plating most would associate with automotive armored prostheses, the exterior of Vincent's right arm was composed of metallic rings running the full length of his arm, every part of the limb flexing like actual skin and muscle as he stretched his arms above his head. His hand in particular was especially intricate; instead of a series of pipes with articulated joints, the fingers were covered with a greater number of rings in similar fashion to his arm, and they too flexed with a greater deal of organic majesty then could be found in conventional Automail. The palm itself was composed of numerous thinner plates that moved with and around one another as he articulated each finger, almost to the point that it had the same lines on it one could "read".
"Bedroom's all yours," Vincent said giving his arms one last stretch above his head before making his way to the couch. "I get up pretty early, so I should be able to wake you up before the first airships leave tomorrow. If you really book it, you should have just enough time to get everything together before classes."
"I hope so," Blake sighed. " . . . I'm really sorry for putting you out like this. This is your place, so I don't mind you taking the bed instead of me if you really want it."
"Don't worry about it. Old Man Wok always told me to be nice to girls, so giving you the bed isn't any big deal," Vincent shrugged. "Besides, what else are we going to do? Share?"
"Sh-Sh-Share?!" Blake squeaked as a blush exploded across her face.
"Don't worry about it, you and I wouldn't even fit on that bed anyway," he waved off with a smile on his face. "Well… I mean I guess we could… But it'd be a really tight squeeze, so I don't think it'd be very comfortable for either of us, really," he dismissed with a shrug.
'Is this guy faking or not? I can't tell,' Blake hummed as she tried to get some kind of read on Vincent's thought process, only to come up with nothing other than what he was saying out loud. 'Does having amnesia to that degree mean you lose your sex drive?' she wondered.
Most guys, or at least the ones she knew of from the stories, would be trying every trick in the book to get a girl into the same bed with them. Yet here was someone only a year older than herself, and he was totally brushing her off so he could sleep on the couch.
'I'm not sure whether I'm supposed to be offended or not,' she thought as she looked down at herself.
Blake knew how head-turning her choice in attire could be; over the years she'd heard nearly ever catcall in the book.
She didn't dress the way she did because she wanted to get guys' attention, she simply wanted something that'd offer the most kinesthetic freedom while still being decent. That wasn't to say she wasn't proud of her body, she definitely was. She just wasn't as in-your-face about it as someone like Yang was.
However… To have any guy who wasn't a straight-up homosexual openly dismiss her like that, intentional or not… It caused a lot of conflicting emotions to rise to the surface. Did she truly want to be left completely alone? Or did she actually want guys to desperately pine for her attention?
Mind you, Blake wasn't the sort who'd "put out" for any passing guy who'd ogle her, she had standards she strongly upheld. But to have someone actively ignore her cool & reserved brand of sex appeal… It hurt her pride just the smallest bit, and she couldn't understand why.
'I wonder what Yang would do in this situation,' Blake thought as her host walked past her without a second glance.
"Anyway, good night, Blake," Vincent said as he took a seat on the couch. "Oh, if you need an extra blanket, there's more in the closet," he said fluffing his pillow. "You mind killing the lights on the way in?"
"Of course," Blake replied, finding a light switch on the wall next to the bedroom door. "Good night," she replied, giving the white-haired teen one last glance before closing the door behind her.
