"On your left!"

Jaune's warning reached Nora and Ren in time. Magnhild's high arc took it up and then down with catastrophic force, pulping a Beowolf on the spot. Another tried to lunge around the hammer's long haft, but Ren countered it mid-swipe, lopping off its outstretched arm and driving a blade home in its neck.

Jaune didn't watch his teammates closely, trusting them to do their jobs; his eyes swept the clearing, reading the situation. Those Beowolves, he was sure, were just the leading edge of the next wave headed for the village to their rear. Sure enough, another pack broke from the tree line and ran for the students, an Ursa on each side keeping pace.

"Flour Power!" Jaune called.

Nora ran forward to meet the first Beowolf in line. Twirling like a petite ballerina with a giant hammer, she caught the lead Beowolf with a blow that sent it flying back into the rest of the pack. They were scattered like a stand of bowling pins. Ren flowed into the gap, making pinpoint attacks while the pack was disorganized and disoriented, stabbing here, firing his pistols there. When a Beowolf began to rise to its feet to threaten him, it vanished in a cloud of pink and a percussive blast as Nora covered her partner from range.

One of the Ursai looked at the commotion and seemed to consider loping after the pair. Jaune wouldn't let it. He was already closing range on it. His anxiety for his teammates was attractive enough to the grimm, but with a flare of his aura he made himself an irresistible target.

Rising on its back paws, the Ursa threw a furious blow at Jaune. A year ago he might have tried to tank the hit on his shield, but he knew better now, knew himself and the enemy better than he had. A half-step and a sway backwards and the paw cleaved open air, leaving the Ursa unsteady. Jaune stepped in behind the blow and delivered a sharp smack with his shield, keeping it off-balance, unable to defend itself for a split second.

Jaune saw his opening and drove Crocea Mors through it. He buried his sword to the hilt in the Ursa's chest. It collapsed and began to dissolve.

Jaune allowed himself a moment of grim satisfaction. He expected to beat Ursai now. It was less a matter of if he'd win and more one of how efficiently he'd win. Progress.

He was caught off-guard by a horrible, too-close growl. The other Ursa was lumbering at him, too quickly for him to dodge, and he almost froze with the realization it would hit—

A blur of crimson and metal.

Some of the Ursa sailed past Jaune to his left; the rest of it slid past Jaune to his right.

"Eyes up!" shouted Ruby Rose, resolving from a blur into a Huntress mid-stream, already twirling Crescent Rose as she shifted it to rifle form and took aim. "Medium Nevermores incoming. I'll take them, you stay focused on the land grimm."

She fired two shots that drowned out whatever reply Jaune might have made, and then she was off, a blur of rose petals that flowed up the side of a tree to have better access to the flying enemies.

Jaune felt a surge of annoyance and shame. They were supposed to be helping her, that's why they were trooping across continents on foot, and yet she'd sped ahead of them and single-handedly dispatched the first wave, and even now was bursting onward, carrying far more than her share of—

More growls, a couple roars, and several shrieks reached them. Jaune's eyes swept around, saw a good spot for Nora, saw a natural funnel he could block… "Nora, up!" he shouted. Without hesitation she turned and ran for him, Ren following in her wake. He spared half a glance for Ruby, but she was airborne, dealing with Nevermores on her own terms. No member of Jaune's team could follow.

He'd have words with her, later.

After the battle.

"…which is why we appreciate your assistance. If there really were that many grimm out there, it would have been a problem even for our defenses."

"Ah, it's nothing!" said Ruby, waving off the town leader's compliment. "It's kinda our thing, you know, helping people when they need it."

Jaune Arc had been (correctly) accused of obliviousness in the past. He was making an effort to improve. He thought it was paying off. It felt like he understood his companions more than in the past. Maybe that was unavoidable: he was stuck with them even more intimately than he'd been stuck with his team at Beacon.

That thought stung; he moved quickly past it.

Now was a good time to try out his "reading people" skill. Ren had his eyes closed, like he was meditating on the spot. It looked like he was calm, but Jaune knew (?) it meant he was avoiding things. He didn't want to hear the conversation.

Nora was much easier to read, seeing as she proudly wore her heart on her sleeve. She was bobbing on the balls of her feet, but her face was long, and her mouth was pursed. Jaune knew she was amped up from the fight, but soon to crash.

Ruby should have been easy to read. When Jaune had first known her, she had been—she'd been as open and easy as Nora. Now, though…

She was at a small distance and giving the town leader a smile, but her eyes were closed. Jaune had seen this expression enough times now. He knew she was hiding that the smile didn't reach her eyes. One of her hands was behind her head in an affected bashfulness, but the other was balled up tight, almost drawing blood.

"…which is why we need to get going!" Ruby was continuing. "You never know who else might need help along the way!"

"Of course," said the town elder gracefully, with the smallest of bows. "There are so many other towns with their own problems."

"Yep, that's why we've gotta keep moving," Ruby said, still with the same chipper tone, but with a harder edge to it that hadn't been there before. "Rolling stones gather no… dew…? Well, you know what I mean!"

"I think I do," said the elder with a slight smile. "Do not let us detain you."

Ruby was returning to the others. Now or never for Jaune to act. "Ruby, we need a rest."

She whirled on him. "What are you talking about?"

"It's almost dark," he said, pointing to the rapidly dropping sun.

"So we'll camp out," she said. "We've done it almost every night for weeks now. Months, maybe."

"And it's exhausting, and it takes time to set everything up," he argued back. "We'll barely be on the road before we have to stop to make camp."

"Well, that's still some distance covered," she said stubbornly.

"We're tired," Jaune said. "You are, too, even if you won't admit it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ruby insisted.

Jaune glanced across the team. Ren's eyes were, if anything, clamped more tightly shut than before. He hated confrontation and was avoiding this one. Nora was glancing back and forth uncertainly; she would follow her leaders with everything she had if they asked her to, but she didn't know who to follow. Nora was a great follower, but that wasn't helpful at times like these.

It was down to him.

He looked to Ruby. All pretense of smiling was gone now. In its place was agitation, frustration. She wanted to push on, to stop at nothing.

She'd run herself into the ground, if he let her. She already was. He could see it in her eyes, her face, her hands, her trembling. She would push, and push, and push, until there was nothing left of her. He couldn't let that happen. Not again.

"Just overnight," he said. "We'll leave first thing in the morning."

Her mouth puckered like she'd bit into something sour. It took her a moment to respond. When she did, it was in an ornery tone. "I just told the town leader we'd be moving on."

"I'll talk to him, then."

Jaune could see her chewing the inside of her cheeks. After several painful seconds, she sighed. "Fine. Fine! It gives us more time to get ammo and supplies, I guess. You three find somewhere to sleep. I'll go talk to the Dustsmith to stock up on ammunition… and talk about shoring up this place's defenses… what amateur placed the turrets like that, I don't know…"

Without looking back at Jaune, Ren, or Nora, she strode off, cape fluttering behind her. Jaune could see her mind still whirling along.

"Soooo," said Nora, "does that mean we get to sleep here?"

"Yeah," Jaune said, shaking off his worry. "We're staying the night."

"Great!" said Nora. "Not that I mind camping out, but when you've been doing it your whole life it kinda loses the novelty. Isn't that right, Ren?"

"Where are we staying, though?" asked Ren. "It doesn't look like this town has an inn."

"That… is an excellent question," Jaune finished lamely. He looked to the town elder, who was in whispered conversation with another villager. He girded himself and strode off towards the elder, trying to project more confidence than he felt. The elder's conversation fell suddenly silent as he drew close.

"Good evening, sir," he said. He felt the words trying to tumble over themselves; all this time on the road had done nothing for his social awkwardness. "What's a place where—I mean, where can the four of us... uh, stay the night?"

"Stay?" said the elder. "Your leader said you weren't going to stay."

"We changed our minds after we saw how late it is," said Jaune. "We spent all day protecting your village, and we're pooped."

"Are you?" said the elder, and his eyebrow arched in skepticism.

"Yes, we are," said Jaune, and he heard impatience in his own voice. He tried to dial it down. "We don't need much space, and we'll leave in the morning. Just one night."

"There's no room," said the elder primly. "We have no accommodations for visitors."

"We're not asking for a luxury hotel suite," said Jaune, and he could feel his annoyance rising faster than he could tamp it down. Ruby wasn't the only tired one. Her relentless pace was getting to all of them. "We just need somewhere to bed down for the night. Anywhere that's got a roof will do."

"It appears that all the gunfire has damaged your hearing," said the elder, and he ostentatiously smoothed down the sleeve of his robes. Jaune was no Coco, but he could tell the robes were expensive and in pristine condition. This was not a man who ever roughed it, and he was broadcasting that fact. "I said, we have nowhere that will do. You will have to sleep out of town."

"You don't have a shed?" said Jaune, and he let his disbelief flood his voice. "You don't have a garage? A granary? No one has a spare room in their house?"

The elder gave a loud, nasal inhale. "We have nowhere to spare for violent strangers."

Jaune was stunned to silence. Nora, bless her, was not. "Excuse me?!" she demanded.

"We understand the work your kind do, and we understand that it is necessary," the elder continued, but he'd left the veneer of politeness behind. "That does not mean you belong here. Draft animals do necessary work, too, but you would not invite them into your dining room."

The borders of Jaune's vision went red. He felt as much as heard Nora's growl beside him. "So we're draft animals, then?"

The elder tilted his head upwards. "I'm glad we're clear on that point."

"And the fact that we just risked our lives for your precious village, that doesn't count for anything?" Jaune demanded.

The elder issued one derisive huff. "Jumping into the grinder doesn't make you more than meat."

Jaune knew, without looking, that Nora's hand was twitching, eager to grasp her warhammer, and he was in no mood to hold her back—he'd probably be racing her, if he were honest, if that weasel kept looking down his nose at them like that, ridiculing the profession they'd chosen, that she'd chosen, and the thought was like an accelerant that caused his anger to blossom fully…

He felt like he was doused with cool water. The anger was still there, he could feel it, but it was deeper inside him, insulated, buried. He knew this sensation. His head whipped about. Ren's hand was on his shoulder and Nora's, too.

If Ren was using his Semblance on himself, though, it was hard to tell, because his face was as stern and his voice as heated as Jaune had ever heard it. "And has this town abandoned xenia as well?" he demanded. His voice was still quieter than Nora's norm, but for him that qualified as a scream. "Have you discarded that tradition, too?"

The elder was taken aback. Before Jaune's eyes, the haughty arrogance was mixed with something… else, something that made the elder's color rise and his lips purse. "Of course not," he bit out. "We honor all the old traditions."

"Then honor this one," Ren said, taking another step forward, and somehow that little step made Jaune think of Nora on the charge. "We invoke the custom of xenia. We request your hospitality."

The elder was speechless for some time, although the way he was rocking back and forth and the scrunched-up look on his face suggested he very much wanted to speak his mind. Finally he said, "Very well. We will provide accommodations."

"Your grace is appreciated," said Ren with a bow, but Jaune thought he heard a delicate sarcasm somewhere in his friend's low voice.

"We will need a moment to prepare a place for you," the elder said as if each word had to be dragged unwillingly from his mouth. "Please wait here."

"We're not going anywhere," Jaune promised. He watched the elder retreat back towards some of the other villagers. When the elder had started talking in tones too low for Jaune to make out, he looked over to Ren. "What did you do?"

Ren blinked. "I invoked xenia."

"Right, I heard that part," Jaune said, "but what does it mean?"

"Oh, come on," said Nora. "You don't remember learning about that in Combat School?"

Jaune flushed. "I must have been sick that day."

Ren tilted his head curiously, and Jaune felt that familiar guilt surge up in him again. Luckily, Ren was as incurious as ever, and let it go. "Xenia is the ancient duty of hospitality. It comes from the old word for 'stranger'. If a stranger from another land comes and asks for shelter, you owe it to them to provide."

"Wow," said Jaune, struggling with the idea. "Anyone? Just like that?"

"In the old days, maybe," said Ren, and his gaze was still following after the village elder. Members of the elder's clique were shooting them furtive looks. Jaune's hand tightened on Crocea Mors' sheath. "Because in the old days, anyone who could travel from place to place had survived the grimm to do it, and could probably make trouble for you if you refused."

Jaune made the connection. "Which is the sort of situation Huntsmen get into, which is why you learned about it in Combat School."

"Precisely," Ren said with a nod. "Huntsmen can invoke xenia in their travels, if they need it. Most places realize it's in their interest to grant it."

Jaune felt his throat constrict. "So the reason the elder suddenly gave in when you invoked xenia…"

"…is because he remembered his duties," Ren said.

Nora grinned. "And he realized we could kick his ass if he refused."

"Also that," Ren conceded.

Jaune buried his face in his palm. "Are you telling me we just shook down a village for a place to stay?"

"Nah," said Nora, "we just said we could if we had to."

Jaune sighed. "Do me a favor and don't tell any of that to Ruby."

"Don't tell me what?"

Jaune yelped in surprise and whirled. For all of her pixie-ish appearance (which was fading over time—had she gotten taller?), Ruby could still be imposing, and Jaune was feeling plenty imposed-upon in the moment.

The last thing he needed was to tell her they'd bullied their way into lodgings. That would just make her more determined than ever to pull up stakes and leave. She needed to catch her breath, she needed a chance to spin down.

She needed to rest, for once.

"I didn't say 'don't tell you' anything!" Jaune said, improvising wildly. "I said, We don't have anything to tell you! About where we're staying! Because we don't know!"

Her expression was equal parts annoyance and frank disbelief.

"…But we might in a minute!" said Jaune, pointing at an approaching villager.

The villager might have been their age. He was trying for a mustache in the style of the elder, but lacked the face for it; the whiskers were coming in patchy and scraggly. He wore similarly styled robes to the elder's, but plainer and with an unadorned sash. He was shaking badly. "A—ah—" he tried, but the words didn't seem to want to come out.

"Hey, it's okay," Jaune said before Ruby could contract the boy's distress. "Just relax. You're not in any kind of trouble."

The youth didn't seem to agree. Jaune almost started. The villager looked their age, but felt younger. It was as if the past year of Jaune's life counted as two or three or five. It was an odd sensation.

"Ah—honored guests," the villager said, the words tumbling out at last, "our Assembly has agreed to offer you sh-shelter in the garage. Th-this way, p-please."

Despite his words, the villager looked like he desperately wanted the travelers to not follow him.

"Well, that's not so bad," said Ruby, whose mood seemed to have brightened. She shot a dirty look at Jaune, showing she still didn't totally believe him, but with a shrug she followed their guide.

Jaune heaved a sigh of relief.

The garage was windowless and poorly lit. It reeked of dust, rust, Dust, and lube oil. To Jaune's amazement, Ruby stepped forward and breathed deeply of it. "Ah, that's the stuff," she said.

"That smells good to you?" Jaune asked.

"Not 'good', really," said Ruby, growing sheepish. "Just… familiar. We had a garage like this back home. I spent a ton of time out there. Any machining or Dust work we could do ourselves, we did out in the garage."

She stepped forward. There were marked spaces for eight vehicles, with six of them occupied by trucks in varying states of disrepair. The two empty spots were separated at a diagonal. The floor was a plain stone slab. It was level, Jaune would grant, but the ground they usually slept on was likely softer. Oil stains spotted the slab in several places.

"This'll do," Ruby went on. She turned towards Jaune, and he could see her fondness. "This sure does throw me back. I made my first Dust rounds in a garage like this, and my first blade. I spent so much time out there, back home, with Uncle Qrow and Ya—"

And she stopped.

Jaune froze.

She'd almost done it. She'd almost broken the unspoken taboo they all had, the example Ruby set and that the remains of JNPR followed: don't speak of the ones not here.

Jaune could see memories bubbling under the surface of the younger girl, threatening to break out. Then, before his eyes, she bottled them. She contained them. She left no trace of them in her face, voice, or mannerisms. Instead, she smiled brightly—too brightly. "We have enough space to divide up, how about that! Especially since we won't have to crowd around a fire. Girls over there, boys can be here. That okay with you, Jaune?"

"Uh… sure."

"Great! We'll even have a little privacy, I bet we can get out of our combat clothes. We haven't had that since… what was the name of that town? The one with the inn and the hot springs?"

"Uh…" muttered Nora as she shambled after Ruby. "Saiyama?"

"No, that doesn't sound right…"

Jaune chuckled as he watched Nora and Ruby walk to the other open space in the garage. Normally, Nora would give as good as she got in conversation, but she was moments from passing out, and once she was out, she slept as intensely as she did everything else.

Which, Jaune's tactical mind noted, was a problem.

He turned away from the girls, but made a big show of slinging his backpack from his shoulders and rustling about in it. As he did, he caught Ren's eye. "We'll sleep in shifts."

Ren blinked—unusually expressive for him. Thankfully, he spoke in the same low tones as Jaune. "I thought we were sleeping here so we could relax."

"I'd love to, but…" Jaune risked a glance over his shoulder. A truck separated boys from girls, and Ruby, at least, was chattering on. Plenty of cover. "After the stunt you pulled, would you really put it past those jerks to try something while we're asleep?" He shook his head at the girls. "We'll let them relax."

"We normally use three or four people in our watch rotation," Ren pointed out.

"I know."

Ren took a deep breath. "Fine," he said tersely.

"I just want them to get a good night's sleep for once," Jaune said, and he felt his voice almost becoming a whine or a plea. "Ruby's trying to take all of this on herself. It's too much for any one person. She'll burn out."

And then Jaune winced as memories overtook him. "Okay," he grunted through gritted teeth, "not the best phrase to use there."

Burning up her life, twice as bright, half as long…

Ren did him the favor of disengaging. The taller boy seemed to concentrate on preparing for the night. It left Jaune free to wallow in his feelings in solitude and silence.

Without talking much they laid out their bedrolls, shed their travel clothes, attended to basic hygiene, and settled down. In the same way the light faded with the dusk, the one-sided chatter from the girls' side simmered down and eventually died. Jaune hoped that meant those two were sleeping. Nora, he was sure, had crashed. That left Ruby. How long, he wondered, would she stay up, staring at the ceiling, as the worries she carried raced through her brain? Was this a chance for her to put down her cares for a time, or was this when they caught up to her?

He hoped she could rest—otherwise, all the effort Jaune was putting into this was wasted—but Jaune couldn't tell if she was. How frustrating.

"That applies to you, too."

Jaune started at the sudden sound. He looked over to where Ren lay. He couldn't make out much of his teammate's expression; it was too dim to read any but the broadest gestures, and Ren was never that animated.

That left talking as the only way. "What applies to me?"

Ren's breathing was even as ever, and for a time that was the only noise. "You said Ruby shouldn't try to take on too much, and that it wouldn't end well. That goes for you, too."

Jaune had thought he had it under control, thought that the memories were tamed when he ignored them in favor of preparing for bed, but his agony soared up as his insides clenched.

Because he was the fraud, the imposter, he was the one always needing help, he was the one always getting support instead of giving it, all his relationships were unequal like that, he needed someone stronger looking after him and literally pinning him to trees before his own incompetence killed him—

You don't have to do this alone.

Except he was alone because he wasn't strong enough, wasn't good enough, he needed leadership advice from a tiny girl two years his junior, he didn't even last five seconds in a food fight, he could only beat one common Ursa in the time it took his teammates to kill a dozen—

You'll only get in the way.

She'd sent him away because her odds were worse with him tagging along because she had to protect him and when the real fights started, when the stakes were higher than a bruised ego, he could only drag them down, he couldn't even talk a civilian into giving them housing without a real Huntsmen trainee bailing him out when he fumbled it—

"Jaune?"

Hot tears slid down his face.

"We all do what we can, right?" Jaune said, trying to keep his voice steady and failing miserably. "We all have to do something to help. Well, what I can do…" all I can do, "…is stay awake so they can sleep."

He swallowed hard, though his body struggled to obey the command. "Pretty small sacrifice, huh? Real Huntsmen are willing to die, and I act like giving up some sleep is this big gallant thing. Some hero you turned out to be, Jaune Arc."

He hadn't expected Ren to respond, and was not surprised when he didn't. He really wished he had. He wished Ren would say something. Anything.

Did Ren agree? Was Ren feeling the same contempt for Jaune that Jaune felt for himself? Was Ren trying to come up with a counter-argument but couldn't find the words for it? Or was Ren simply too exhausted to think about it either way?

There was no way to know, and Ren didn't favor him with an answer.

"I've… I've got first watch," said Jaune. There was no way to tell if Ren heard him. No matter. Jaune knew he'd be able to stay awake. He had his misery to keep him company.

Snap. Snap.

"And we… are… set!"

At Ruby's words, Nora threw open the garage's door, letting pale early-morning sunshine flood inside.

"Al-right!" Nora said with relish. "I am recharged and ready to hit the road!"

"You took the words right out of my mouth," said Ruby, and her smile seemed genuine. It was a welcome change.

Jaune tried to focus on that. It gave him warmth, warmth he wasn't feeling in his exhausted body. She'd slept well; she was better. It had all been worth it.

Ren gave Jaune one of his typically inscrutable looks. Jaune recognized its type. It said Ren had Feelings about their situation, and that he expected Jaune to know what those Feelings were, but that he'd die before he spoke them.

"C'mon, lazy butts!" said Nora in a voice like a foghorn; Jaune edged away in pain. "The road's not gonna come to us!"

"Give them a minute," Ruby said graciously. "We're rested and ready after a good night's sleep. I'm sure we can make up the ground from this stop before noon, even if we take a little extra to get started."

Ren's look became more pointed still. Jaune wished he'd either talk or look somewhere else. "We'll be ready," Jaune said, more in hopes that the others would stop than because it was true. "Why don't you go pick up our supplies, and we'll catch up with you."

"Sure," said Ruby, and she was gone without further delay.

It was a slog, trying to pack up even their meager belongings after a restless, sleepless night. Every action seemed unreasonably difficult. Every motion was as slow and taxing as if he was underwater. He was on autopilot, with a buzzing head and fuzzy vision.

At last he slung his pack over his shoulders and looked up. Ren was there, looking on inscrutably. Expressionless he might have been, but he was clearly waiting.

Jaune tried to force a smile. "Bet you're not used to being the first one ready, eh? Because your partner's… Nora…"

"Don't do this again," Ren said, and he walked for the garage door.

Jaune wished he knew which "this" Ren meant.

He followed Ren, who'd stopped just outside the garage's front. Further down the street, Nora and Ruby were fussing over a pile of food, ammunition, and similar sundries. They were far enough away that Jaune could hear their voices but not make out their words. They were the only people in sight besides the weedy junior citizen from yesterday, who was standing as far away as he dared in the direction of the village gate.

"Jaune."

He looked at Ren, who seemed to be struggling. "Yeah?"

"This isn't your xenia," Ren blurted when the words finally broke through.

Jaune wanted to reply, but he caught himself in time. He knew full well how much Ren hated words, how hard it was for him to jam his feelings into those shallow sounds. If Jaune spoke now, it'd break whatever momentum Ren had been able to build. The rest of his words would evaporate.

With a start, Jaune realized it had probably taken Ren all night to work up to this point.

Ren relaxed ever-so-slightly when Jaune held his tongue, and seemed to find his way forward. "None of us would ask you to harm yourselves for us. You don't have that duty. You aren't proving anything to anyone by doing that."

None of Jaune's instinctive denials got past his mouth. He couldn't say "I don't think I have anything to prove", because he did. He couldn't say, "I don't think I've got a duty to you all", because he did. He definitely couldn't say, "I'm not harming myself for you", because he was doing that, and would do it in a heartbeat.

Why couldn't Ren understand that? Why was he insisting that was wrong?

"Jaune."

They were worth any sacrifice.

"Jaune."

If only he could…

…be doused in cold water.

He blinked and shuddered, but a strong hand held him in place. He followed the hand back to Ren. He realized what was happening. For the second time in two days, Ren had turned his semblance on his leader.

It didn't make Jaune calmer, exactly. All those emotions were still bouncing around inside. None of them were breaking through, though; he felt and saw them like they were at a distance, like they didn't exactly belong to him.

"I'm sorry," Ren said, whipping his hand back like he'd been burned. "I didn't ask."

"It's okay. I probably needed it."

Ren gave a solemn nod, and his gaze dropped. "Just think about this. You're acting as if whatever makes you suffer must be good. Please, stop. We don't need another martyr. We need you."

The no-longer-masked emotions within Jaune whipped back up with a vengeance.

Having said his piece—and clearly drained by speaking so intimately—Ren re-seated his backpack and set off towards the women. Haltingly, stumblingly, Jaune followed.

Most of the food was packed already—he could see Ren packing his share, and another pile that was presumably Jaune's to carry—and the women were on to the ammunition. It apparently wasn't going well.

"It's official," said Nora, holding up a magazine for inspection. "They stiffed us."

"It could have been an accident?" said Ruby, but Jaune could tell she didn't believe her own words.

"One magazine being short is an accident," Nora said. "Two magazines being short is a pattern. Every magazine being short is a 'screw you'."

"Maybe," Ruby said, an anxious look on her face, and looking uncomfortable as she always did at the idea of someone being mean on purpose. "I don't think it'll make that much difference, though. It'd take all day haggling to get them to own up and fix it, and I really want to get back on the road."

"Ruby's right," said Jaune as he finished packing his share of the provisions. "They probably think they're just docking our pay for hosting us. Let's move on."

"Says the guy who doesn't even use a gun," said Nora without heat as she slung her backpack on. "Seriously, no ranged weapon? Still? You not having a grenade launcher has gotta be your biggest flaw."

Jaune rolled his eyes with a smile. This was a familiar, even comfortable, argument. "If that's my biggest flaw, I must be doing alright."

It was only after he'd said the words, and after a few seconds of looks from his teammates, that what he'd just said actually registered with Jaune.

"Er," he said.

"That," Ruby said with a soft, affectionate exasperation, "is what we've been trying to tell you."

Jaune turned a glare on Nora, who was gleefully impervious to it, and grinning like a she-devil at having trapped Jaune so thoroughly. "Let's just go," he said with a sigh.

Their unwilling guide led them out of the village, but didn't so much as wave or say goodbye. None of the villagers showed themselves, giving the scene on uncanny quiet. When their guide shut the gate behind them, it made the loudest clang Jaune had ever heard.

"Friendly folks," said Nora as the team resumed its interminable walking.

"Look, see?" Ruby said, pointing at one of the turret emplacements on the village's outer wall. "See what I mean?"

Nora peered closely—though what she was looking at was beyond Jaune's expertise. "They're not doing their maintenance right on that."

"I know! And look at its range of motion—there's a dead zone between it and the next turret."

They had walked enough now that Ruby had to point almost straight back to show what she meant. Jaune would just have to take her word for it.

Ruby looked up the road again, face tense. "They'll be okay, right?"

"Probably," said Jaune.

"Who knows?" said Ren.

"Still…" Ruby looked like she was having to work up to the words, but she plunged ahead. "Even with these people being jerks and stiffing us on the ammo… I feel like we needed that. I'm glad we stayed the night."

Jaune felt like his heart was a little freer. The morning sun was warm, but this feeling inside was warmer. Ruby had slept and now she felt better. She was glad about it.

He'd done okay. It'd been worth it.

The smallest of victories.

"Maybe," Ruby went on, "we should do this more often. Maybe we should try and stay a little in the towns we reach, and use that time to recover."

"You won't hear me saying 'no' to a hot meal and a bed," said Nora.

This was good, Jaune thought. He'd done it. He'd broken through to her. She didn't need to run them into the ground. She didn't need to press so hard. She'd take a reasonable pace and be okay. She wouldn't burn herself up trying to be everywhere at once.

"Which means we need to walk faster! If we're gonna stay the night at villages, we need to get to those villages faster!"

Or not.

Ruby put an extra hitch in her step and accelerated away from the others. They upped their speed—not as much as her, but noticeably, to try and keep up.

It was just like… before, Jaune thought disconsolately. Another Huntress, bravely—surely—unstoppably—marching to meet her destiny.

And all he could do was try to make sure she made it.

Jaune felt cold.

Next time: Movie Game, featuring Ren