Here we go

Chapter 31

The news kept going on about the gang violence all day long, and he couldn't blame them to be fair. The EDC had swept through entire districts killing people as they went with brutal efficiency. As the day went on, the numbers of dead rose to two hundred and forty six. A staggering number that dwarfed the Xiong Clan's approximate hundred and ten members. Most of those were better trained individually than the Ravagers, but quantity still had to count for something.

Jaune sat with his eyes fixed on his scroll, tracking each death, each story, and waiting for his name to finally appear, for his involvement to be thrown out and for the police to come knocking on Beacon's door.

They didn't. His name never came.

The worst part of that was the relief. It came without warning, and he couldn't stomp it down no matter how much he wanted to. How disgusting. Over two hundred people were dead because of him, and all he could feel was relief that he wasn't incriminated. It had to be the shock. The guilt would come once it wore off, he hoped.

Melanie was right. I thought I had everything under control with Bon-Hwa but I really had no idea who I was dealing with. This is what happens when you're dealing with a real crime lord…

Compared to this, he was a goldish swimming in a pond filled with sharks, and he'd somehow only just realised it. He could have slapped himself for his arrogance. Had he been arrogant, or had he just underestimated everyone else? The gang leaders in the cartel had seemed to lackadaisical and normal, while Hei was a decent guy underneath his gruff exterior. That didn't mean they were like that all the time. He'd judged them on first impressions, and Bon-Hwa had pulled the wool from his eyes with this move. It wasn't so surprising that Melanie and Miltia called him naïve.

A knock came at his door. It made him jump. His heart jumped too, right up into his throat. The police? No. He took a deep breath and made his way over, straightening his collar as he opened the door. "Hello- Dad!"

Nicholas Arc looked pleased with the greeting, his worn face crinkling into a smile that looked like it had been absent for a day or two. He'd not come alone; Headmaster Ozpin was with him but keeping a respectable distance. He must have been there to welcome dad and show him to the room.

"I will leave the two of you to catch up," Ozpin said.

"Yes. Thank you, Ozpin." Nicholas didn't look back as he spoke, but there was a tense quality to his voice. "I appreciate you putting my son up after what happened."

"Think nothing of it. Qrow asked a favour, and I gave it. Good day to you both."

Once he was gone, Jaune idled uncertainly in the doorway, his father before him and neither entirely sure what to do. Awkwardly, Jaune stepped back and motioned for Nicholas to come in, letting the door close behind them. Nicholas' eyes scanned over the room, but there really wasn't much to look at. He'd only lived here three days.

"I was excited to see your first apartment." Nicholas said. "Your mother and I were both keen to visit the first place you ever bought with your own money. It's a shame really."

"Ah. We can go there if you like?"

"No. I don't want to stir bad memories for you." He rolled his shoulders and smiled awkwardly. "I suppose we'll just have to find you a place where you can make better ones. Assuming you want to stay in Vale."

"I do."

He had to. If he didn't then Cinder…

"I thought you might. Stubborn, just like your mother. Just like me. You're making something of yourself, though. Who would have thought you'd come to the big city and become a club manager." He smirked. "You know your mother has been boasting about you to all her friends. It's driving them up the wall."

Jaune smiled despite everything going on. "Has she?"

"She's proud of you. Sees it as you picking up her side of the family business, even if she only worked in diners and restaurants. We're both proud of you," he added meaningfully. "Not only for what you've managed, but what you've come through. I don't expect dealing with this has been easy."

"It hasn't. The club is a pain sometimes."

Nicholas' eyes remained locked on his. "That is not what I meant."

"I know." Jaune smiled back, trying his best to convey that he wasn't ready to talk about it. Not yet. Nicholas met his gaze, closed his own and nodded slowly.

"I promised I would help you find a new place. We should get on that first and we can relax and catch up afterwards. Wouldn't do to leave you homeless. Do you have any money to fall back on?"

"I have four and a half thousand in the bank."

"That's a lot more than I expected…"

"The landlord let me have my deposit back even though I'm terminating the lease early," Jaune said. It was a generous gesture all things considered, though Jaune had a feeling it was more to get him out of the place so there wouldn't be any follow-up shootings in his apartment block. "I was also just paid recently."

"Well, it seems you're all kinds of responsible." His father laughed and opened up a small bag at his side, withdrawing a long bottle with a crystalline glass surface. "You're a lot more prepared than Saphron was when she wanted to move out with Terra. This is for Qrow, by the way. Thanks from me for looking after you."

"Set it on the side. It'll be drunk by tonight."

"I see you know him well."

"Yeah." Jaune smiled as Nicholas put the bottle down along with a sealed envelope. He was sure Qrow would appreciate it, even if he'd make the two of them share. "He's a good guy. I only met him because his plumbing kept spontaneously failing and he had to borrow my shower. His apartment was falling to pieces."

Nicholas' smile said he knew something Jaune didn't, and also that he was deeply amused by the news. "Poor Qrow. He's never been the luckiest of people. So, shall we head off? I have strict instructions to make sure you're renting in the safest parts of the city."

"Then I'll need a lot more than four grand. Probably closer to forty."

"This is why we moved to Ansel. We built the entire house for a tenth the price of an apartment here. I can't say I miss it all, but I suppose that's a case of where you grow up. Grow up in the city and you long for the countryside. Grow up in the countryside and you long for the city." Nicholas placed a hand on Jaune's shoulder and nodded for the door. "Come on. Let's see what we can find."

/-/

It had to be a rule that it was the job of all parents to embarrass you.

Jaune had really thought his dad above it, or not capable of it at all. After all, he was a huntsman. There was no way you could be embarrassed about your parents' jobs when one of them was a huntsman. That was instant cool points right there. Secondly, he was tough as iron, moving like a predator and with sharp eyes and an angular face. All huntsmen were fit, but Nicholas Arc was built. He looked like more of a sculpture than a man

And yet, right now, he managed to fit the dad stereotype.

"You call that an apartment? I've seen prison cells with more room. And for that cost? I hope you're pulling an elaborate prank."

The woman showing them properties in her brochure tried to laugh. It came out a little weak. She was about twenty-five and her face had lit up on seeing them enter. Not in the `ooh customers` kind of way but more in the `please tell me he's a single father` kind. Jaune was used to that. Her ardour had soon cooled once Nicholas broke out negotiations, however.

He wasn't very good at them. Or maybe he was, and he was intentionally using intimidation, but Jaune didn't think his dad was like that. If anything, he didn't understand just how intimidating he could be.

"A-Ah. Well, I can try and find some more. Prices are higher currently because of the Vytal Festival-"

"Short-term renting, yes. My son is looking for long-term. Are you telling me none of your clients would appreciate a long-term and reliable renter?"

"That's always preferred, sir, but even then Vale is low on space. The city is close to capacity and that drives prices sky high. I don't make the rules, sir. There is a decent-sized apartment that I showed you before-"

"In an area of the city which literally woke up to a massacre this morning."

Jaune cringed. Luckily, so did the woman and his reaction wasn't out of the ordinary. Yes, one of the first places she'd shown was a remarkably cheap three-room apartment in that section of the city, and there were no prizes for figuring out why it was so cheap and why it was suddenly back on the market. Even if his dad hadn't been here, he wouldn't have felt safe living there. With the Ravagers down, it was inevitable that some other gang would sweep in to claim the territory. Whomever it was wouldn't appreciate a rival crime boss living with them.

"I don't know what to tell you, sir. The best we can offer is a one-bedroom apartment for four thousand a month. The market is not healthy right now."

It wasn't that much worse than what he'd had before. Jaune was about to accept when Nicholas shook his head and stood up. "No. Thank you for your time, but we're not interested. Come on, Jaune."

"Huh? But-"

There was no arguing with him. Jaune apologised quietly to the woman and chased his dad out the estate agents, out into the warm midday sun. Nicholas didn't look half as angry as he had inside, but the way he let out a long breath left no illusions to his mood.

"Dad. You can't just tell people off like that."

"And you can't just cave to the first offer made," he replied. "You realise they are salespeople, Jaune. It is their job to make you take a deal that benefits them, not you."

"I get that, but I need a place to stay."

"And you will get one. Going through the agents isn't always the best way, however. It's the easiest way, but easy isn't always good. If it was, I wouldn't be with your mother." His dad walked on and Jaune was left to follow, sighing heavily. "Don't be like that," he chided. "We have the whole day to search, and you may well be living at this place for a year or more. You can afford to take a little time to make sure it's perfect."

"I know. I'd have been fine with another studio apartment though."

"And what happens when you meet a young woman and want to take her home? Do you think she will be impressed when your bedroom is also your living room is also your kitchen?"

Jaune spluttered. "Dad!"

"It will happen one day. If all else fails, you can come back and rent from them. They're not going to turn a customer away just because they don't like me."

That was probably accurate. If he needed to, he could come back on his own and just find a different agent to talk to. It was clear he wasn't getting out of this by now, and to be fair his dad was probably right. He'd been… not lazy in accepting his last apartment, but eager. Too desperate to impress Hei and find stable accommodation. He had until the end of the week thanks to Ozpin, so it wouldn't hurt to actually use that time.

"So, we're going to look for a private landlord?"

"That's right." Nicholas smiled. "Anyone renting out their place would have to pay a cut to the estate agents for doing all the legwork. Not everyone wants that. Some people need the money and so can't afford to give some away, and others are confident enough in their own abilities that they don't need the agents to do what they already can. Either way, those people are often a lot easier to negotiate with. They're not trained sales reps for one, and they need to rent their places out."

Made sense. The agents hadn't budged when Nicholas tried to negotiate. Likely because, like they said, they didn't have a lot of space to work with in the first place. They were also a business, so they weren't under any financial pressure to move their properties quickly and cheaply.

"Alright. How do we find someone trying to rent, though? Just walk around and hope to see a sign?"

"Not quite, son." Nicholas came to a stop before a newsagent and patted Jaune's back. "We grab a bunch of local newspapers and then go grab a coffee. The rest is easy."

/-/

It really was that easy.

Thirty minutes later, Jaune and Nicholas were sat at a quiet little diner with some small cakes and drinks before them, numerous newspapers strewn out over the round table. The young girl serving them drinks set another cup of coffee before Nicholas and a strawberry milkshake by Jaune, thanked them quietly as they paid and left them to their searching. She'd even been kind enough to let them borrow two red pens when they asked.

All they had to do from there was flick to the back of the newspapers, to a section where little adverts called classifieds were kept and go through them. There were absolutely loads of them, and for a wide array of things. Some were cleaners, plumbers and other utility things, others were for animals having babies and their owners advertising pets, either paid or free to a loving home, and there was a whole three-page spread of job adverts. Beyond all that, however, was an entire section dedicated to properties.

A lot of them were for sale and in the millions. Those houses weren't even mansions. A nice house about half the size of theirs back home went for one and a half million in Vale. It was ridiculous. Past that, however, and past the adverts paid for by the very same estate agents they'd been to, were much smaller ones, only about three centimetres square, with text only, usually a brief description, an address and a number to call. It was those they were drawing rings around.

If he was honest, his dad had already been proven right. The apartments on offer weren't all cheaper, but even the ones of a similar price to his offered more room or better locations. Jaune had his eye on one that offered him the bottom floor of a three-storey building, replete with both a bedroom, a living room and a kitchen all in completely separate rooms. It even had a guest room, for all that room was literally only two metres by two metres.

It was still a massive step-up from having a single large room encompass all three. And for only five hundred more per month! The only reason he didn't bring it up was because he knew what his father would say.

"Let's check them all first. There's no rush and you might miss out on something even better."

Again, he wasn't wrong, and this was a lot easier – and more comfortable – than he'd imagined it to be. Jaune sipped from his milkshake and scanned over a few more offers. A lot of them were in the poorer areas of the city, down south where the Ravagers had once been. He also wanted to avoid the east and Bon-Hwa, even if they were on nominally good terms right now.

"There's an interesting one here." Dad said suddenly. He had that look in his eye that suggested interesting wasn't just good or bad. "What do you think? A two-storey townhouse with three bedrooms, kitchen, living room, dining room, bathroom and small garden to rear. Driveway in use. Eight hundred lien per week."

"A house?" Jaune had to ask. "For eight hundred a week?"

"Hmhm."

"I'd say that sounds too good to be true." At thirty-two hundred a month, approximately anyway, that was almost the same price as his apartment had been. "What's the catch? Worst part of the city?"

"West Vale, actually. That's the nicer part of the city I recall."

It was. Vale wasn't so homogenous that everything slotted into one place, but there were themes. The far west of the city was for the mega rich and famous, but that was its own gated community. The western areas around it were nice, however. Very nice. It was the south that was poorer, with the north being a little more industrial by the docks – still nice, but loud. Better suited for people who worked in the area.

Central Vale was, by comparison, the most expensive place to live, but that was only because there were so few homes there. It was more the commerce hub of the city, with the malls, shops and such. Any homes there had long since been converted into more profitable businesses. The Club was in the centre of the city, which had been no mistake on Hei's part. He'd set his business, and his gang, slap bang in the centre of the city. It was dangerous since they had enemies on every side, but very lucrative.

West Vale is considered one of the nicer parts of the city, though, he thought. I'd be an idiot not to be interested. And someone would have to be an idiot to put the price at that.

"What's the catch? I can see that smirk, dad."

"There is a small catch," Nicholas admitted. "Or it will depend on whether you see it as a catch or not. Ahem." He began to read. "Young professional seeks house share. Must be employed. Long-term only. The rest is the description I gave you before, then a number."

"House share? You mean like having a roommate?"

"Essentially. There are a lot of young people like you who come to the city for work. Even if they get good jobs, it can be expensive living here, so they share homes with other people and split the costs. It helps ease the burden." He tapped the paper. "I imagine this person owns the building but wants to recoup some of the mortgage. What do you think? Would you feel comfortable living with another person? It's your choice."

Would he? Jaune leaned back and considered it. He didn't have anything against the idea, so long as that person wasn't a nutcase. They probably weren't if they were working and could afford a place in Vale. If they were related to the gangs, it would be an issue, but then again how many gang leaders would share their homes with a random person? Other than him, obviously.

It would give him a lot more room to work with. And hell, maybe it'd be good practice for living at Beacon. He'd have to share a room with three other people when he was a huntsman.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to take a look."

/-/

Dad was the one to call the number and set up the meeting. The person had been set to messages when he called, probably at work, but they'd responded back by text and agreed quickly enough to show them around at five in the afternoon. Jaune had hoped to put the issue off for longer, but it was only four thirty and they had nothing to do but wait on the street outside the address listed.

The house was surprisingly nice for the price being offered. It was semi-detached, with one side clear of any building and the other built against a second home. Both symmetrically mirrored one another, and a gravel driveway led up to the white door. The building was clean, with two one window on the bottom floor and two above. If he had to say anything, it would be that it was a little standard. Rectangular, boxy, probably nice on the inside, but the architects clearly hadn't been breaking out their most creative juices when they came up with it. This was a house built to serve its purpose and nothing more. The fact it was so well-kept said a lot about the person who lived there, however. Good things. That didn't make him any less nervous about meeting them, but that was normal.

"Is now a good time to talk?" Nicholas asked.

Jaune cringed. "I'd rather we avoided it entirely."

"That's not healthy."

"What is there to say?" Jaune asked hotly. "Someone tried to kill me, and I killed them first. It's not…" He scrunched his eyes shut. "It's messed up, but it is what it is. You said yourself my reaction wasn't unnatural."

"Being pleased about taking a life?"

Jaune flinched and looked around. This part of the city was rather quiet, only a few people coming home from work, but no one really paying attention to them. Even so, he didn't want that said out loud.

"Your reaction tells me you don't believe me," Dad said. "I wasn't lying, Jaune. What we feel and what we believe we should feel are often two separate things. What would you rather feel? In an ideal world?"

"Sad. Crushed. Upset. Guilty. Sickened."

"All those emotions revolve around regret, regret at having done something that you wish you could change. Do you want to go back and change what happened? Let him kill you instead of the other way around?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Of course you don't. And you shouldn't. You should never regret surviving."

"I… I get that but… shouldn't I feel more?"

"No." Nicholas settled a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "I have killed men as well. It's inevitable as a huntsman, I'm afraid. Criminals, bandits and sometimes just victims giving in to their base urges when the world seems lost. It's not easy. The stories…" He huffed. "What do stories know? People direct movies and write fiction about what it feels like, but they don't know the truth. Life is a struggle. A battle between life and death is even more so. When adrenaline is rushing through your body and when your life flashes before your eyes, I would challenge anyone to not feel a thrill when they overcome the odds."

"That's what I felt." Jaune admitted quietly. "I was scared and nauseous but… but I also felt excited. I… I think I liked it."

"You liked the rush of endorphins and adrenaline, Jaune, not the act." The hand squeezed tighter still. "That is perfectly normal. I still feel the same way when I fight. It's why a lot of people do it. This is why extreme sports are even a thing, son, because there is a carnal rush in risking your life. It is like a drug. Exciting. Addictive. You could get much the same sensation from rock climbing without a harness or sky diving. You shouldn't beat yourself up over it."

Was it all that simple? Jaune closed his eyes and nodded, feeling a little better even if he wasn't entirely sure. The advice helped. Maybe… Maybe he was right, and it was all just physical reactions. Chemicals in his brain. Jaune wished he could ask for more advice, about the gang, about Cinder, about what to do with the East Dragon Company and the Xiong Clan.

If he asked any of that however, his father would drag him out of Vale instantly. He would bring him home where he would be safe. Except that they wouldn't be safe at all. Dad would be convinced he could defend them against Cinder, and maybe he could…

But what if he couldn't? It would only take one mistake, one second where Cinder or one of her people found his family unprotected. He couldn't do it. He couldn't tell him and risk that.

"Thanks dad. That helped."

"Did it? You still look troubled."

"I need to process it."

"Talk to other people if you don't believe me fully. Talk to Qrow, or even Ozpin if you feel more comfortable with him. Don't just take my word for it. Get a second opinion."

"I trust you, dad."

"I know." Nicholas smiled. "But hearing accounts from other people will help. They know what you've been through, and believe me, those two have taken lives as well. Almost every huntsman or huntress has. They might even have some advice on how to best cope." He winked. "Please don't take Qrow's advice there."

Jaune couldn't help but laugh. "Qrow's a good guy!"

"He is. He is. He just has a few rough habits." Nicholas chuckled. "I swear that man's Semblance is only as bad as it is because all his aura is busy shielding his liver. Spare yours the punishment."

The low rumble of an approaching car sounded moments before the metal gate over the driveway beeped and began to rattle open. The homeowner was back. Jaune put on a smile to try and hide his nerves and watched as a rather nice car a dark burgundy in colour slowly turned past them. The windows were blacked out so that they couldn't see inside, but it looked expensive and meticulously clean.

Whoever this was, they were doing a lot better for themselves than he was. Probably how they managed to afford a mortgage in the first place, even if they needed a little help covering it. Jaune swallowed and straightened up, ready to step forward and introduce himself before his dad could. If he was the one who wanted to rent, he had to be the one to make a good first impression.

The door closest to them swung open. Jaune stepped up, mouth opening, only to lose his focus as a long, smooth leg reached out from inside. A purple heel touched down onto the gravel and an arm gripped the top of the door. Out came a head of pale purple hair cut down to the shoulder, a slim face and bright yellow eyes. Painted pink lips curled up into a supermodel smile and the brief moment of tiredness she displayed vanished in an instant. Jaune felt them roam over his father and then him, flicking up and down as she analysed them.

"You must be my prospective housemate," she said in a voice rich and confident, practically made for television. He knew that because he'd seen her on television that morning reporting on the gang war he'd started. "I'm Lisa. Lisa Lavender. A pleasure to meet you."

Next Chapter: 19th August

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur