I wrote this one-shot a while ago, and finally decided it had spent long enough taking up space on my hard drive. It barely needed editing, which I suppose is why I left it for so long.
Cobalt Marshall stepped off the small bullhead and looked around. Other than his fellow searchers, there wasn't a soul in sight.
This remote village wasn't large, so it wasn't unusual for several days to go by in between transmissions to and from the main kingdom. Now, though… it had been two weeks since communications had gone dark. Spruce Hollow, the closest town ("close" in this case being three days' travel on foot) had reported their concerns to Mistral a day ago, prompting Cobalt's boss to send out a recovery team, fearing the worst.
And it looked like the worst had happened. Everywhere Cobalt looked, he saw only abandoned buildings, some reduced to charred husks, and no sign of human or Faunus life anywhere. It was nearly silent, which made the dead feeling in the air that much worse. He honestly would have preferred the sounds of battle and destruction—it would mean that at least some of the town's people would still be alive.
Cobalt muffled a sigh into his hands. He hadn't had the skill to become a Huntsman, and joining the search and rescue team had seemed like the next best thing. His idealistic notions of heroism had been beaten out of him within the first year, and over the last half-decade, he'd seen the aftermath of more tragedies than he could count.
This, though… he'd never seen anything like this before.
An entire town's population wiped out overnight? He definitely didn't want to meet the Grimm responsible for such a horror.
Another sigh escaped him as he trudged off to search his assigned sector, already dreading what he might find.
Two hours later, he still hadn't seen a single living person. The rest of his team had reported the same over their earpieces. Oh, there were plenty of people, but every one of them, without fail, was dead. He avoided looking at their faces as best he could.
Cobalt hated his job sometimes. This was one of those times. Why couldn't he have taken a normal job like his sister? Her tailor's shop was thriving; she made twice as much Lien in a year as he did. But no, he had to try and be the hero.
A small thump caught his attention, drawing his eyes to a nearby building. From the looks of it, this had been a private home, and it was still mostly intact, unlike many of the others. He wasn't hopeful as he headed toward it—most likely, the sound had been a raccoon or some other small animal that had made the empty house its new home—but this was one of the few structures in his sector he hadn't checked out yet.
"Anybody here?" he called out as he approached.
There was no answer. Cobalt warily poked his head inside, not wanting to startle any wildlife. He'd made that mistake before.
Dead silence was the only thing that greeted him. He did a quick sweep of all the rooms anyway, checking under beds, inside closets, and even behind doors, feeling less like the hero in a spy movie, and more like a dorky high school kid who suspected his friends were playing a prank on him.
He wasn't surprised when his search yielded no results. If some of the villagers had survived, they would have heard the engines of the approaching airship and come running, right?
It was only due to the near silence around him that he heard it. A soft whimper, sounding as though it had come from… under his feet?
That definitely hadn't been an animal.
Most of the houses in this town were situated on raised platforms, with a small crawl space—about two feet high—underneath. With difficulty, Cobalt crouched down to look underneath the platform.
A pair of small children stared back at him, their eyes wide and fearful. Cobalt could only gape at them in shocked disbelief for several seconds. His team had searched nearly the entire village by now, not finding anybody still living—and now, here were a couple of little kids who had survived the attack?
Cobalt's brain slowly started working again. Both kids were thin and dirty, with matted hair and tear-streaked faces. Two weeks, two godsdamn weeks since Kuroyuri had been attacked. Had they been here the whole time? How were they alive?!
Slowly, not wanting to startle them, Cobalt reached into his backpack and withdrew his lunch sack. The little girl watched him suspiciously, her jade green eyes looking more like a cornered animal than a human, as she clung to the boy beside her.
Cobalt held out the chicken sandwich he'd made himself that morning, before the search team had been dispatched. The little boy's fuchsia-colored eyes widened, but he made no move to take the offered food. In the end, it was the girl who darted out, quick as a flash, snatching the sandwich from Cobalt's hand and ducking back under the house. She proceeded to tear the sandwich in two and hand half of it to her companion; both immediately began to shove the bread and meat into their mouths as though they hadn't eaten in days. Which, Cobalt thought, they probably hadn't.
The sandwich was gone in less than a minute. Cobalt withdrew his apple next, taking his utility knife from his belt and slicing it down the middle, offering half to each kid. This they accepted more readily, and took longer to eat. Cobalt took a few seconds to really look them over.
He'd wondered at first if they were brother and sister. They didn't look alike, but that didn't necessarily mean anything—he and his sister didn't resemble each other in the slightest. Upon closer inspection, however, he decided that they probably weren't related. While both of their outfits were torn and filthy, the little boy's tunic and pants appeared to be of good quality, in the style that was common in the outer settlements. The little girl, on the other hand, was attired in an ill-fitting t-shirt, jacket, and shorts, and while her attire wouldn't have looked out of place in the capital, or another large city like Argus or Kuchinashi, she certainly would have attracted some raised eyebrows in an isolated town like Kuroyuri. No parents would dress one of their children so well and the other so poorly…
Cobalt grinned to himself. He'd never expected his knowledge of fashion—reluctantly learned from growing up with an older sister who loved to design and sew her own clothes—would come in handy in his job. Guess that just goes to show, wisdom comes from unexpected places. Rather than keep handing them food one piece at a time, he held out the entire sack this time. Both kids fell on it like they'd just been handed a lifeline.
As the kids continued to work their way through his lunch, Cobalt took a couple steps back and tapped his earpiece. "Hey, Dema, I found a couple survivors."
"You're kidding," came the flat response from the leader of his team.
"Would I joke in a situation like this?" Cobalt huffed, annoyed. "I'm serious, there's two kids huddled under a house near the northeastern gate. They're eating my lunch like it's their job."
"Kids?" came Dema's disbelieving reply. "How old?"
"Uh…" Cobalt ducked back down to look at the kids again. "Hey…"
Both looked up at him, with frightened expressions.
"How old are you two?"
Neither one answered. Cobalt supposed that after the trauma they'd lived through, it wasn't unusual that either of them felt like talking. He pressed the button on his earpiece again. "They won't talk, but they look like they can't be any older than five or six."
"How'd they survive?" Dema's voice came through again.
"Dunno," Cobalt answered honestly. It was a good question, though. How had a couple of little kids survived such devastation when none of the adults had? The little wooden hammer that the girl was fiercely clutching with her free hand was definitely a toy, not a live weapon, and while the boy had a curved dagger hanging from his belt that looked wickedly sharp, it wasn't likely that such a young child could have taken down anything larger than a small Grimm.
As if the mere thought of Grimm had been enough to draw their attention, a howl sounded from the surrounding forest. Cobalt whipped toward the sound, reaching for his gun, as the little girl gasped in fear. A single gunshot sounded. Dema's voice came through Cobalt's earpiece a moment later. "All clear, just a Beowolf gettin' a little too nosy."
Cobalt crouched down to look at the kids again. To his shock, both of them had gone a bit gray. Had they eaten the food he'd given them too fast? Were they about to be sick? Or was it fear that had caused them to react like this?
"Hey, hey, it's all right," Cobalt tried to reassure them. "The monster's gone now, one of my friends took care of it."
It was only at that moment that he realized the little boy's eyes were squeezed tightly closed, a look of intense concentration on his face. At Cobalt's words, he opened his eyes again, beathing hard, and let go of his companion's hand. Both children returned to their earlier coloring.
"Huh," Cobalt remarked to nobody in particular, eyeing the kid with new appreciation. That had clearly been a semblance of some kind, and based on how he'd instinctively activated it upon hearing the Grimm, was probably how the pair had survived for the past two weeks.
"Listen," Cobalt told the two kids, easing into a cross-legged position with a groan. "I know this is your home, but… you can't stay here."
Both of them watched him with wide, solemn eyes.
"There's nobody left to take care of you," Cobalt went on. His mind raced—his sister knew almost everybody in Wind's Path. Surely she'd be able to think of somebody who could take in a pair of orphans. He sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm not very good at the whole comforting talk. You two… you need baths, new clothes, some good food. You won't get any of that out here. My team can take you back to Mistral—"
The girl suddenly flung her arms around the boy, who embraced her in return. Cobalt paused for a minute. "Would you… like to stay together?"
Both nodded rapidly, the first definitive answer they'd given to any of his questions. "All right. I can take you back to the airship we used to get here. You'll be safe there, understand? No more monsters. I promise."
He kept talking, not really knowing what he was saying. One of his teammates had come to finish searching the rest of his sector, while he did his best to talk the kids out from under the house. Finally, as the sun was sinking toward the horizon, both crawled out and stood in front of him, watching him expectantly. Even through the dirt and grime they were covered with, he could see that they were clinging to each other's hands so tightly their knuckles had gone white. The girl's grip on her tiny hammer produced a similar result, and the boy silently offered Cobalt back the empty lunch sack.
"Thank you," Cobalt replied, taking the sack. The boy nodded in reply. Somebody had obviously taught him manners. "Let's head on over to the airship."
Both followed him, the little boy's grip on his dagger as tight as the girl's on her hammer. It didn't take long to get to the bullhead. Dema gaped in astonishment when Cobalt arrived, with the two kids in tow. Cobalt did his best not to roll his eyes—it seemed Dema hadn't believed him when he'd said he'd found a couple of kids.
"This way," Cobalt instructed the pair, gently taking the boy's elbow to lead them up to the bullhead's wide cargo doors. "I'll lift you in, all right? Now, who's first?"
He hadn't expected them to be eager to board the aircraft, and he wasn't surprised when both hesitated for a minute, before the boy took half a step forward. Cobalt eyed him. "You're first?"
The little boy nodded, not quite able to conceal the fear in his eyes, but trying to be brave. Cobalt picked him up and quickly deposited him inside, reaching for the little girl next. She was staring at the craft with undisguised awe, which didn't fade as he set her down next to her companion. The two immediately made a grab for one another's hands again.
The team ended up packing it in only a half hour later, by which point, both children were curled up against each other, sound asleep. As the bullhead's engine whirred, Cobalt took off his jacket and tucked it around their shoulders. Even in their sleep they looked exhausted—this was probably the first undisturbed rest they'd had in two weeks. Cobalt sighed, turning to stare into the air. He felt personally responsible for them, even though he'd first lain eyes on them a mere three hours ago, and in that time, neither had uttered a single word.
Cobalt leaned against the outer wall of the bullhead, keeping the pair in his line of sight. Without quite knowing why, he made a vow. He would look after these two for the time being, until he could find a family willing to adopt them both, or (more likely) an orphanage with two empty beds that could take care of them properly.
Nothing more would happen to these two. Not if he had anything to say about it.
Hope y'all enjoyed, please review!