Troll in Reviews

As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.

He's also pretending to be me by writing my name in guest review slots. I would only ever review something from this (logged-in) account.

Cover Art: Mystery White Flame

Chapter 53

Not for the first, nor probably for the last, did Jaune regret having a sword and shield. It wasn't a bad weapon, it provided both offence and defence, his ancestors had used it to great effect and the shield collapsed down into a sheath which made carrying it around so much easier. Against most Grimm, it was a fine choice of weapon.

But Nevermore. Damned Nevermore.

"Rargh! Argh!"

Crocea Mors ripped back and forth through the air, cutting down two of the blasted birds and scaring away a couple more. Scare was the wrong word as they couldn't feel fear, but the slashing knocked and forced them back for all of two seconds, before the stupid things darted back in with their beaks and their talons.

He swung the shield and smacked another three or four off the wall. They might have fallen and died or they might have recovered – there was no telling in the swirling blanket of black feathers that was a murder of Nevermore.

One of them hovered in front of him and flapped its wings, firing off its feathers like little missiles. He remembered the one in initiation doing the same to Teams RWBY and RVNN, but that creature had been gargantuan. The one inch at best feathers tickled his face and fell to the ground sadly. The Nevermore had the good grace to look embarrassed in its Grimm-like way before Jaune gripped it by the tailfeathers and yeeted it off the wall.

"I hate these things! I'd rather fight a hundred Beowolves!"

Glynda's response was to sweep her crop down and collect all the Nevermore over his body and crush them into a ball of feathers the size of a wrecking ball. It writhed horribly. Taking hold of that with her Semblance, she slammed into the wall again and again until feathers rained down and the horrible birds stopped moving and were dropped to the ground far below.

"Okay," he said, pointing. "That's just showing off."

Her glasses flashed as she shot him a coy smile. "I'm not sure what you mean, headmaster. They're only Nevermore."

"Only Nevermore," he muttered, taking the brief moment of respite to peer out over the wall. The Grimm were still coming and still being blasted into their constituent giblets by the artillery. The force of that was causing the horde to slow and pile up, providing even better targets. Those that made it through were easily scythed down by the soldiers, while the sharp and repeating crack of sniper fire spoke of support from the floating academy far above.

All in all, the battle was going swimmingly. Hell, apart from the Nevermore harassing the walls, he doubted there was a single death thus far. It was a firing line tearing the Grimm to shreds – and they were possibly halfway through the horde.

That didn't provide the comfort he thought it should.

Salem was planning something.

"This is too easy."

"I happen to agree. Talk to Oscar later," she suggested. "He might have an idea what she's planning. If not, well, we can't exactly ignore this threat – and there's nothing of value in Beacon. I can't see what she'd gain distracting us here to attack back home."

Neither could he, and Raven still had a portal up to Beacon so they'd have heard if that happened. Not to mention both the CCT's were active. Sighing, Jaune turned around as a loud and mechanical whirr sounded behind. The quad cannons of the Atlas anti-air batteries angled themselves up toward the sky and opened fire.

It was a deafening sound. Not a brakka-brakka like he'd expected, but deep booms as the canons rocked and fired quickly, but not as fast as an automatic weapon. Streaks of yellow show by them, scything up into the mass of Nevermore before exploding brightly. In terms of cost, it had to be overkill. Specialised military equipment capable of taking down Bullheads used on piddly little Nevermore, but there was no discounting its effectiveness and even juvenile Nevermore could be deadly in numbers.

As more and more of the canons opened up, the sky became blanketed in explosions, deafening the defenders as feathers rained down like snow, the occasional charred avian body dropping with a crunch and a dissolving fizzle.

"It's beautiful," he whispered, holding a hand to his heart. "Can – Can we have one?"

"No." Glynda's answer was immediate, though she did smile. "We already have automated turrets back home."

"Yeah, but they're tiny."

"You're not lugging an AA autocannon back to Vale."

"Aww…"

Cheers and shouts echoed down the walls as soldiers and huntsmen celebrated the defeat of the Nevermore – or the first wave of it anyway. Once again, all weapons were pointed outwards, and the Grimm died in their thousands.

"Headmaster Arc. Headmaster Arc!" a young-sounding soldier dashed along the wall to him, waving his hand. Since there were no Grimm close enough to pose a threat, he turned to face him, wondering how much a mess he must look covered in feathers and sweat.

"Yes?" The soldier waited. "Um. At ease, soldier?"

"Sir!" The man saluted and then stood more calmly. "General Ironwood requests your presence."

"Just mine?"

"No sir. Military meeting. Respective Commanders and above. He asked for you by name as effective Commander of the Valean forces."

Effective Commander…? That was a push. He was in charge of the students but there were plenty of huntsmen from Vale that he had no sway over, and who were older and more experienced than he. Still, he provided a central and easily recognisable figure. Jaune glanced Glynda's way, head tilted in question.

"I'll stay. I can use my Semblance at a distance to be useful. You may as well wait until the fighting is close quarters. Check on the students. This is their first taste of a large-scale battle and some of them may not be taking it as well as they act."

"Alright. Don't take any risks, Glynda. If you're tired, break off. Same goes for Roman."

Glynda rolled her eyes but nodded. She knew what she was doing better than he did, and he wanted to say he was just worried, but with the Grimm outside the walls it didn't feel like the right moment to do so. The shifts would change soon anyway and Glynda would be forced to break off and rest when the next shift arrived.

"I'm ready," he told the soldier. "Take me to General Ironwood."

"Sir! Yes sir!"

"I'm not – oh, never mind…"

/-/

"The civilians have all been evacuated thanks to the work off Raven Branwen," Ironwood reported. "The portal will remain open for any huntsmen from Vale who wish to come support us, but Branwen has expressed her intent to depart at the end of the day."

The general reaction among the military staff was pleasure, especially at the civilians being far out of harm's way, but that didn't stop one of them asking the pertinent question.

"What of Miss Branwen, General? Her Semblance is too versatile and could be of use. Can we not press her into service?"

"No. I made a tentative effort and met a brick wall. Duty, honour and the code of a huntsman means nothing to her, and we don't have the capability to hold her in one place. If we tried, she would surrender and then open a portal the moment our backs are turned. I decided it was better we maintain good relations than risk upsetting her." Ironwood pressed his hands down on the table and stared each and every one of them down. "And I hope this is a message you all understand."

Though there was some muttering all around, it appeared to be aimed more at Raven's attitude than Ironwood's ultimatum. Qrow had been on the nail as to how helpful she might be – only as much as you paid her for. It still worked out in the end. Better we have the citizens out and reinforcements in than not. I didn't even have to pay her myself.

"What of the refugees?" someone asked. "How will Vale be maintaining them?"

"Vale has set up temporary camps for them and Beacon has agreed to shoulder the most vulnerable." Ironwood nodded to Jaune, who returned it politely. It wasn't much, especially when the population of Atlas numbered in the millions, but it was there. "Food has been catered for as best we can. Quartermasters sent each family through with several days' worth of MREs, which while not entirely enjoyable, will prevent our population straining Vale's economy to breaking point."

"I suppose we don't need them," a uniformed woman pointed out. "With all of Atlas left to us, we can send men to scavenge from supermarkets."

"We'll have to. Stocking so many people with rations has cleaned us out. Luckily, I don't expect the Grimm have a long siege in mind." His words generated a few laughs. The Grimm were throwing themselves at them; the battle would be quick and bloody, but not a protracted one. "We'll likely have to compensate Vale for the inevitable damage that'll be caused, but that's something to consider after, including how we'll get our entire population back home."

"That's going to be a logistical nightmare, sir."

"Rather that than having to deal with civilians running around in a panic," another said. "And the deaths. Pain in the ass this way, but ultimately for the best."

"My thoughts exactly," Ironwood said. "I will see if Miss Branwen would be willing to portal people home after, but we may have to pay her again. That's a thought for once we're victorious, however. What is the current situation?"

"Sir!" A man stood. "The wall is holding, and the Grimm are being bombarded – excellent work to the artillery teams as always." He nodded to an old woman, who grinned back viciously. "We currently have shifts set up to be no more than one hour. That may have to extend to two when the fighting is at its height."

"A shift change every two hours is going to be difficult to pull off."

"I agree, sir, but asking the soldiers to fight that long is already too taxing. It would be fine if it were trench warfare, but they're not ready for melee with the Grimm. For the huntsmen, it's fine." He looked Jaune's way, "-but our ground troops don't have that kind of stamina. They'll be dropping dead from exhaustion if we ask them to hold for longer."

That sounded ridiculous to Jaune, but he said nothing. Was fighting that long really so hard? He didn't know. Most battles with Grimm were explosively short. They appeared, you clashed, and it came to an end within a few seconds. Where there were more Grimm, that combat time was extended for obvious reasons.

Even when he'd fought Cinder, it'd been the action of a few minutes. It felt like hours, but the actual combat had been ridiculously quick – her throwing him, Neo and Roman around the tower before he eventually managed to catch her and rip out an eye.

The whole thing had been over in ten minutes.

Perhaps a change every hour wasn't as ridiculous as it sounded. If this was a shield wall or people laid down with guns then they could fight for hours on end, but facing the Grimm meant explosive movement using every muscle group, hacking through thick and muscled limbs and grappling with monstrous beasts of unyielding strength and stamina.

That was going to be hard enough for any huntsman, but throw a regular soldier in there…? They had aura, but there was a difference between having aura and being a huntsman who spent more than six hours a day in extensive physical training. The military lifestyle, while far more taxing than civilian life, still wouldn't be able to keep up. It would only get worse when throwing in injuries, muscle fatigue and psychological stress.

Our biggest advantage is our guns. The battle looks trivial now but it's going to take a horrible change when they reach the walls. It was the first time he'd realised it and the thought frightened him. Not for his own life – him and his students would be better in melee – but for the brave men and women stood beside them who, when the Grimm came close, would be woefully unprepared for them.

The battle would then swing in the favour of the Grimm, and with the gunfire halted the horde pushing across the no man's land would have an easier time than ever of closing the gap.

"What happens if the wall falls?" Jaune asked.

"If? You mean when." Ironwood didn't try to butter it. "Then, students from Atlas and hopefully Vale shall reinforce and push the Grimm back, allowing our troops to fall back to secondary fortifications and begin the firestorm anew. And then the tertiary line. We shall keep falling back and setting up until, if things become truly dire, we retreat first to street-to-street fighting and then back to the academy itself for a final stand."

Silence hung across the meeting.

"I don't personally believe it will come to that, however. The Grimm lack the numbers, and whatever we may find suspicious about that, scouts ranging beyond the Grimm have reported no sight of reinforcements. This is the entirety of them."

"What of our own reinforcements?"

"Huntsmen from Vale have attended, while Mistral's forces have been decimated over the years by the traitor, Lionheart. Unfortunately, they could not afford to send any. Reviewing the numbers of fallen and missing huntsmen over the years from there, I believe this to be more than factual on their part."

"Regrettable." An old man sighed. "And Vacuo is too far, I presume?"

"Too far. Too disjointed." Ironwood sighed. "I've attempted contact, but they reported that they have their own problems – a disturbance in the desert they need to deal with. I wouldn't expect reinforcements from there, even if they somehow had a way to cross the distance in time to be of use."

Jaune raised a hand. "What about Menagerie?"

"Menagerie?" the old man from before scoffed. "What of them? Terrorists."

"That's the White Fang, Brigadier General," Ironwood warned. "Not Menagerie. Do not mistake them for one and the same or we do the White Fang's work for them."

"It's the same result, isn't it? They hate Atlas-"

"Can you blame them?" a younger officer asked sarcastically.

"We're not at fault for their actions!" the old man spat back. "If they found working for us so detestable, they should have left for Menagerie before it became an issue."

"Your prejudice is showing, old man."

"You will refer to me as-"

"ENOUGH!" Ironwood slammed his cybernetic fist down on the table, cracking it. "I will not stand for you to fight like children while good men and women fight and die protecting us. Get your heads in the game or I will send you out against the Grimm. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Yes sir…"

"Good." Ironwood sighed and adjusted his coat. "In answer, Arc, Menagerie is unlikely to assist both because of current tensions but also due to the White Fang. While they and Menagerie are not one and the same, unlike what some believe, that doesn't change the fact they're connected. After we just killed Adam and humiliated them, I doubt Menagerie will risk open conflict by moving to assist us. And if they did, they'd only be leaving Menagerie undefended for the White Fang to take over by force, and then they – and we – would have a far bigger problem."

"Or an easier one. We could just bomb Menagerie into dust and be done with it."

"Sergeant Umber, please escort Brigadier-General Smithson to the wall. The troops are in need of his leadership."

One of the guards by the door saluted and moved behind the man who'd suggested bombing a neutral country into the ground. No one else at the meeting spoke, nor did Brigadier-General Smithson. He could read the room and General Ironwood as well as any. Nodding, he stood and saluted, acting for all the world like it had been his idea.

The door opened and closed, the last remaining guard on the inside locking it shut as the outspoken officer was taken away. He wouldn't be killed considering the Grimm were nowhere close to reaching the walls, but the message was clear. Ironwood would not put up with any timewasting.

"The next order of business is our new airbase set up in northern Vale. The air force reports that it is operational, and they can begin support and bombing runs as soon as we call them in. However, we're going to want to be sure we have air superiority before that happens. Our aircraft will decimate the horde, but if we lose even one then it's a loss we won't be able to recoup." Ironwood sat once more. "I'm open to suggestions."

The meeting progressed, this time with more order.

/-/

Ruby stretched her muscles and yawned into the open air, working out all the kinks she'd earned from laying down with Crescent Rose for three hours. While she loved her baby and the act of sniping away at Nevermore was cathartic, it didn't do much for the shoulders. Or not both. It tenderised the one she'd been braced against quite nicely. One eye shut, she listened to her bones pop and click, working her head from side to side to make her neck crack.

"Ugh. I feel like poop."

"Dare I ask why?" an amused voice asked from behind her.

"Eeek!" Ruby jumped, span and gasped. "Jau- I mean, Headmaster!" Her eyes watered. "D-Did you hear me just now?"

"I did." He smiled. "To be fair, we all feel like crap."

"No. No. I feel good. Here." She stuck her hand out. "See. Touch me."

It took her all of about six seconds of absolute silence to realise how bad that sounded, and another half a second to buckle in absolute mortification. It was official, laying down for hours robbed her of any brain function.

"Please ignore me…"

"Hey, it's fine." Jaune laid a hand on her shoulder before she could run. "Everyone is a little loopy. Have you and your team just finished your shift?"

"Yep!" She saw the change of conversation for the mercy it was and grabbed on with both hands. "We killed loads of Nevermore – I focused on the bigger ones, but the AA did its work. Team FNKI relieved us about half an hour ago. I've been wandering since."

"Restless?"

"Hm. The others went to bed, but I didn't think I'd be able to."

He looked at her strangely. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. No. I'm fine. Just too much energy." She rocked on the balls of her feet to show it. "I thought I'd wear myself out and then go to bed after. What about you, headmaster? You were on the front lines. Are you tired?"

"No. And I didn't see any real fighting either."

Ruby looked him up and down, easily spotting the wear and tear of combat, the sharp indentations where Nevermore had pecked away at him and the little colourations on his neck and cheeks. He'd seen combat, but she supposed for someone as awesome as him, Nevermore didn't count. Jaune was cool like that.

"And call me Jaune. I hate that `headmaster` stuff. I'm not that much older than you."

Super cool. And he was spot on with the age difference not being too big. Not that she paid too much attention to that or anything. Nothing of the sort. Honest! "Hee. Sure thing, Jaune. So, if you're not tired, were you looking for us?"

"Not really. Just wandering like you are." He cocked his head to the side. "Want to wander to the lounge and have something to drink?"

"Sure!"

The lounge as he called it was the common room they'd been granted back when it was just her team and the teachers. It was empty, with the rest of her team asleep in the room next door. Just the two of us, Ruby thought excitedly. Play it cool, Ruby. Play it cool. Be mature.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"Eh?" Jaune looked up, surprised. Why was he surprised? Had she done something wrong? Hosts on TV always offered to make their guests a drink – and sure, this wasn't exactly home, but it was what people did. "Um. Sure. Coffee, thank you."

Luckily, the lounge had a small kitchen area. Not much, it was just a kettle, a sink and two cupboards, but there were some basic supplies inside them. Ruby pulled out a bottle of soda and a glass for herself, then gazed nervously at the tub labelled `Coffee`.

"How do you like it?"

"Milk and two sugars please."

"O-Okay!"

Fill the kettle to the one cup marker. Boil. Ruby tapped her foot as it whistled away, selecting a mug for him. Opening a drawer, she poured some coffee granules in the bottom, then drew out the sugar and a bottle of milk.

And then she stared at it all, hoping it would make itself.

Ruby didn't do coffee. She would drink it if offered, and if suitably creamed and sugared to the point that it was more a dessert than a coffee, but never in her life had anyone asked her to make it, nor had she offered before now. I thought he'd want cordial. Stupid. M-Maybe I should have coffee as well. I'll look childish if I have soda. Pouring that away, she hoped the kettle would have enough for both of them.

It did. Sort of. The mugs were filled two thirds of the way each.

"You said milk and two sugars, right?"

"Yeah." Jaune sat on one of the sofas and sighed tiredly. "Thanks by the way, I really needed one."

"Heh. No problem!"

Problem.

Much problem.

Milk and two sugar. Milk and two sugar.

Two what of sugar!?

How much milk was milk? Just saying `milk` was such a stupid instruction! What did that even mean? A dollop? A pour? A cup? A cow!? Ruby dithered with the bottle of milk over the steaming cup of blackness, too afraid to even start.

"Is something wrong?" Jaune asked from the sofa.

"N-No! Nothing is wrong!" Swallowing, she splashed some milk into his coffee, turning it a golden brown – which looked good – and then, to her horror, a milky amber – which didn't look so good.

Too much! Too much! Abort! Mayday!

Desperately cutting off the flow, she took the far-too-milky coffee and poured half of it into a new mug, then took her own still as of yet un-milked coffee and poured some of that in, working the three mugs like a chemist trying to find the perfect mixture of volatile chemicals. Too dark, pour some of the milky coffee in. Too light, dip it back into the other. Spoon wildly. Stir like Atlas itself depended on it!

"Ruby?"

"I-It's coming! I just need to find the sugar."

Okay. Good enough. Two sugar. Oh, for the love of Summer Rose, two what of sugar? It had to mean two spoons, that was obvious. Ruby yanked open the drawer and bit back a scream. Forks, knives, big spoons, medium spoons and little spoons.

DAMN YOU ATLAS! DAMN YOU ALL!

"Do you need my help?"

"No!" she yelled. "Stay there and be served!"

Big spoon, medium spoon, little spoon. It was goldilocks and the three bears all over again, in which case common logic said to go for the medium one. Not too big, not too small but just right. Moving quickly, she spooned two healthy helpings of sugar into the coffee and stirred them both, then tossed that and the discarded mug into the sink and walked briskly back.

"Finished!"

Jaune took his cup with a smile and Ruby settled down next to him, purposefully ignoring the other seats. They were close in age and huntsman and huntress. Nothing wrong with that, right? Squealing internally, she brought her coffee up and sipped.

Urk. Grbl. E-Evil. Poisonous. Beside her, Jaune went still, shivering slightly.

Ashamed and embarrassed, Ruby looked at her knees. "It's bad. I know…"

"N-No. It's perfect." He made a show of taking another drink, and then another, forcing it down with the kind of unnatural focus of a squeamish child trying to eat vegetables without tasting it. Ruby didn't miss the fact he didn't breathe through his nose. "See?" he said hoarsely, holding the empty mug up. "Best coffee I've ever had."

Giggling lightly, she kicked her feet under the table. "I'm not stupid, Jaune."

"And I'm not lying." He put his cup down and took hers. "Here, if you don't want it, I will."

He was lying. It was stupidly obvious, but he was determined and took another long drink to `prove` to her that he liked it. Ruby wasn't dumb, but the fact he was that willing to do it to make her feel better still brought heat to her face and a warm, tingly feeling in her stomach. Blushing, she nodded, pretending she believed that he liked her coffee.

"Honestly, I needed the sugar rush after today." He laid the hint of the problem on her subtly. Stupid goldilocks theory. Always failed. Should have gone with the small spoon. "It's been a hectic one. The fighting isn't so bad, but the meetings after with General Ironwood and all the top brass of Atlas is a little more daunting."

"Hmm. It's kinda scary."

He paused and looked down at her. "You're afraid? I always figured nothing could scare you."

"Grimm don't scare me," she said proudly. "I'm not afraid of the fighting either, just…"

"Just…?" he prompted.

Guh. Hadn't she said before she didn't need to talk about things? He wasn't the school counsellor now, so he didn't need to take care of her problems. Why was he still bothering?

"Because I care about you."

Ruby choked on her own spit.

"And yes, you said that out loud. You must be more tired than you're letting on." He put his empty cup down. "As for why I'm doing this, you're not just one of my students, Ruby. Don't you remember when we first met, when you found me in that shrubbery? I was just as lost on my first day as you were."

"And I thought you were a student," Ruby mourned. "I was so embarrassed!"

"Ha! I remember." He laughed. Not just a casual or a polite laugh, but an honest one, head thrown back as he remembered some distant memory. And it was distant, she realised. A whole year ago now. A lot of time had passed. "Do you remember what I said to you back then?"

"Uh. Which bit? We talked a lot."

"The bit where I said I'd be your first friend in Beacon."

Oh. Was it possible to be so happy you felt embarrassed all over again? Apparently, yes. "I remember," she whispered.

"Good. You know if you have a problem I'll listen, not as headmaster but as a friend."

"I'm scared."

"Of the battle?"

"No." Ruby clenched her eyes shut. "I'm scared of all the soldiers."

"What about them?" he asked. "They're not that bad."

He didn't get it. Maybe Jaune didn't have those fears because he was too strong or used to it. She didn't normally fear anything – Uncle Qrow had even told her it was a weakness, that fear could keep her alive where a lack of it would only make her reckless. She hadn't understood at the time because how could she? Ruby wasn't afraid of Grimm.

"Oh." Jaune sucked in a deep breath. "You're afraid of them dying, aren't you?"

Silently, she nodded.

It was stupid – she knew that! They were trained soldiers. They probably knew more about life or death than she did, because even if she was a huntress, she was only sixteen. Every soldier out there was prepared to give their life and capable of doing so, but that didn't stop the panic rising up her throat like vomit inside.

What if she failed when the shift change happened? They were meant to run in, push the Grimm back and buy time for the soldiers to retreat. Of the Grimm, she wasn't worried. It'd be a quick fight and she could disengage with her Semblance with no risk.

But what if she messed up? What if the soldiers she was relieving turned their backs on the Grimm and she made a silly mistake and they got killed? Just imagining someone falling in slow motion, staring at her asking why she hadn't done her job and saved them, why she'd failed them when they placed all their faith in her.

It terrified her.

"I'm not afraid of fighting the Grimm," she whispered. "I'm afraid of letting them down."

"Yeah, I can see that." Jaune wrapped a hand around her neck and pulled her into his side. "I could tell you not to worry but I don't think that'd make a difference. And there's nothing wrong with having that fear, is there? To be honest, I'm not sure how to get rid of it."

"I guess even you have some things you can't fix…"

"Well, it's not that. It's more that I feel the same way."

"Eh?" Ruby looked up, surprised. "You do?"

"Of course. I have the same job as you, but if I mess up then it's not just soldiers who die. It could be you, Yang, Weiss or Blake – or worse, it could be hundreds of people. When I decide something, there's a lot more riding on it."

Put like that, her fears felt petty, but they were still there. Like when someone rich and wealthy suffered from depression and others said that was stupid because they could have anything they wanted, knowing Jaune had it worse didn't make her feel any less fearful.

"How do you handle it?" she asked instead.

"I don't."

"W-What?"

"I don't handle it," he admitted. What shocked her more than the admission was how broken he sounded, like he'd not only stopped trying to deal with it but given up hope there'd ever be a solution. "I just keep trying to find the right answer and surrounding myself with people better at making those decisions. It stops me making a mistake, but it doesn't do anything for how frightened I feel. I'm not sure what I can offer you." He laughed. "Some help I've been, huh?"

"No. That's not right."

"I know it's not. If you have a problem, you should confront it. This isn't a `do as I say, not as I do` kind of thing. It's me saying I've no idea. Heck, if you find an answer then I'd love to hear it. Maybe you can help me out."

"Jaune…" Ruby licked her lips. "Do you hate being headmaster?"

"No, I… I…"

Turning into him, she poked his side. "I'm asking as your friend, not your student. Do you hate it?"

His eyes were pinched. "Yes. I hate it. I… I… I don't want you to think it's you. It's not. I love all the teams and the people, and I wouldn't want to trade them for anything, but the responsibilities." He shook his head angrily. "It was hard being a teacher, but it was rewarding. I helped Glynda before classes, I got to see you all grow and I could make a real difference when I was the counsellor. And I know I'm making a difference now as well, it's just… If I messed up back then, Glynda might lose some paperwork or a person would leave a session not having their problem solved. It was bad, but not devastating."

"It's bigger now," Ruby said. "Because everyone is counting on you."

"Yeah. I mean, it would be bad enough if it was just you lot – you can take care of yourselves. I know that sounds bad but-"

"It doesn't. I don't worry about my teammates. They're tough, and even if I mess up in being team leader, I know they can do things on their own. That's what it means to trust them."

"Right." He looked a little more relieved, smiling faintly. "I trust you all and I know you don't need me that badly. Or you need me, but you won't spontaneously combust if I take my eyes off you for ten seconds. Vale, though? Atlas?"

"Yeah. They're kinda crazy…"

"Tell me about it." He slumped forward to hold his face in his hands. "And suddenly I went from helping you make friends with Pyrrha to having to hold social events with Jacques Schnee of Beacon closes down, chasing a treacherous headmaster killing huntsmen in Mistral, meeting with Sienna Khan and suddenly becoming the number one enemy of the White Fang – even being called out to a hostage situation where Adam wanted to fight me or he was going to execute innocent hostages. And now straight to this, being called into military meetings like I know anything about military strategy and have any right to be there and-"

Ruby took hold of his face and dragged it into her chest, wrapping her hands around and over his hair. Embarrassment warred with awkwardness but was firmly pushed back by something altogether different.

"R-Ruby…!?"

"You're doing good," she whispered. "You're doing really good."

"I'm coasting along on luck," he said, laughing bitterly. "It won't last. I'll mess this up sooner or later."

"I'll be there to fix it when that happens. That's a promise. So for now, we'll both try and find a way to deal. Kay?"

His shoulders, so unnaturally stiff, sagged suddenly. His face pressed into her chest and he drew a deep, shuddering breath. As her hands worked through his hair and over his shoulders, she felt him slowly unwind.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he mumbled into her. "Not letting a student see me like this."

"What about letting a friend see you?"

He laughed. "Yeah." His arms wrapped around her back. "Yeah, I think that's okay…"

Awww. Go Ruby with the friendship angle.

No omake today I'm afraid – busy trying to organise work stuff from home. Personally I find it really easy to work from home, but I swear people have been emailing me all day with the stupidest shit. And it really is dumb!

Studio: "The magazine is ready to be sent to print but it needs to be proofread by you and editorial team. I can't print the pages out and bring them up, though. What do I do?"

Me: Make it into a pdf and email to us…

Studio: Oh yeah, that'd work.

Like… wtf. The studio are our IT guys and graphic designers. How can they not figure that out on their own? It's common sense! I'm fairly sure a 12-year old could figure out the answer to that! I'm getting stupid emails like that every day.

Oh, and another asking about an event we were running in June, but which has now been postponed due to coronavirus, so I set the date as TBA when we have better details, and someone emailed me today asking if I know when the new date for the event will be. To note, I set it as TBA yesterday – so they've waited only 24 hours to ask that. She doesn't want a vague estimate either, but an exact date.

It's like, they're literally asking me to predict when coronavirus will end with a question like that, aren't they?

Next Chapter: 9th April

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur