Chapter 1: Life On Standby
"The distance and my heart's to sand, flowing through the hourglass..."
That was a weird-ass dream.
"Nex."
Believe it or not, one could glance at Nexus Shade and find nothing out of the ordinary.
A fair-skinned boy with a nest of black hair, wrapped in plain black slacks and an even plainer grey jacket. Certainly nothing extraordinary about the lithe teen in his school uniform. But still, a closer look would reveal golden eyes hiding behind baggy eyelids, along with a pair of lupine ears lying asleep on his scalp.
"Nex. Are you even listening to me?"
Nex sank deeper into his seat, rubbing his eyes as he yawned. He had to steal every second of sleep he could get his eyes on.
When the bell rang, the sixteen-year-old would storm out of the classroom. He had to make it. Atlesian lien never made itself, and he had to take every job available to maintain their flat and pay for combat school—all while staying under the radar. The work would keep him out until midnight, and when he came home, he would pick up his weapons and train until the crack of dawn.
Admittedly, he adopted an impulsive, obsessive, and gruelling routine, but sleep would come with its blissful embrace during first period.
World History. No love lost there.
"Nexus Shade!"
Weiss Schnee shrieked the full name directly into his ear.
Nex lurched from his seat, stiffening like a ramrod. He wilted under the frigid, blue-eyed stare of his lab partner, his wolf ears standing in rapt attention.
Her outburst was understandable. Even expected. He did take a nap while she did all of the work herself.
"Sorry," Nex muttered under his breath.
And he was truly sorry.
But he could not give any excuses.
Never could.
Weiss Schnee would not understand, considering her background. But still, most people would have given an arm and their left testicle just to be Weiss Schnee's lab partner. She was smart, talented, and absolutely so far out of his league that she was probably stranded in a mansion on the moon.
Corporate heiress, world-renowned singer, and always on top of her entire class—Weiss Schnee was destined for great things.
While Nexus Shade was the son of a dead huntress. And a sperm donor that never even bothered to show up for the funeral.
Weiss shoved a slip of paper in his face. "It's fine. Just sign your name here. It was easier finishing it on my own."
Ouch. That stung.
But he did what Weiss asked.
Believe it or not, they were not friends.
Were they even acquaintances?
To her, he was probably just another face in the adoring public. Albeit, one that sat next to her during Dust Practical and popped one of her blood vessels or two. To him—
Actually, what exactly was she to him?
They never talked much or hung out. But seeing as his chances with her were smack dab between only in my wildest dreams and a snowball's chance in Vacuo, it would only turn out to be a waste of time and a lot of trouble.
Nope. He already had a lot of that to deal with. It was easier to not think of Weiss in any way at all.
"Thanks," Nex said, offering her his best smile. Well, the best he could muster. "You're a lifesaver, Weiss."
Weiss scowled. "You should take this more seriously, Shade. You're training to be a huntsman—a future defender of humanity. Lives could be lost someday if you slack off in class."
And it was back to the surname.
He did take it seriously, but she would not have understood.
Nex almost closed his eyes, if not for the fact that doing so would push the volatile Mt. Weiss into a volcanic eruption. Instead, he crossed his arms, leaning into the soft backrest of his chair. The hood wrapped around his jacket just so happened to fall over his eyes.
Nex smiled, sucking on the sweet, strawberry fabric.
But the darkness turned into light, snatched away by a pale hand.
"You're not seriously going back to sleep, are you?" Weiss said, fixing him a glare. "Bad enough that I was paired up with someone like you, but then you also don't participate in class."
Nex shrugged, meeting her pale blue eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm tired."
Tired was the understatement of the semester.
Maybe even his entire life.
"That's not an excuse," Weiss said, raising her chin even more. "It's your responsibility to get enough sleep so you can function at your best."
Right. Easy for her to say. She probably had people to tend to her needs and a butt-load of cash to spend freely.
He had nothing and no one but himself.
But lashing out at his lab partner would have been unfair. She did not carry the blame for his circumstances.
Weiss frowned. "Listen. If you apply yourself a little harder, you might earn a place among the top five of our class. I've seen your grades. With how high they are without you even—"
"I try plenty hard," Nex said, turning away from her aging tirade. It was starting to ferment into bad wine. "Trust me."
He barely had time to do homework and projects between his job and training.
But he managed.
Barely being the operative word.
Nex poked the result of today's dust experiment, some sort of benign mixture between ice and gravity dust swirling inside a flask. The mechanisms behind it were probably simple, elementary dust reactions. Ice dust formed snow particles. Gravity dust provided the disruptive force that ensured the ice dust never reached equilibrium.
For fuck's sake, it was nothing but a fancy snow globe.
It was probably useless on the field.
Independent use of ice dust or gravity dust would have provided far more efficient results without the risk of the mixture exploding in his face. But he certainly knew better than to let Weiss hear his exact thoughts. The exact thoughts on their project she finished alone.
The bell rang.
Nex stood up before his lab partner could, swiping the snow globe and the slip of paper so he could turn them in.
"I owe you one, Weiss," Nex said, breaking into a mad dash. "Sorry for being such a crappy lab partner."
"Just try a little bit more," Weiss whispered under her breath, probably expecting him to be out of earshot.
Not that it was any of his business.
The maze passed in a blur.
Nex weaved around boys flexing by the windows and girls gossiping about said boys, eliciting annoyed screams from some of them and threats of dismemberment from others.
Believe it or not, violence was encouraged in combat schools. It was in the name.
He ignored them. They would forget about him tonight. And the process would repeat itself tomorrow.
Nex broke through the school gates, taking a sharp right into the sprawling, urban jungle of Atlas. Shadows of mechanical skyscrapers loomed over neon-lit streets. He strained his wolf ears, making out the rumble of the engines that kept Atlas afloat. It resembled the belly of the beast—a roar, the flushing of a toilet, and a baby's burp.
He slipped between the sliding doors of the Huntsman's Respite. The stench of alcohol and sweat trampled over the hairs of his nose, just as the multi-coloured lights stabbed his faunus eyes. He made his way to the glass counter. His boss was standing there, grey eyes boring into his.
Mekel tossed him a suit and barked at him to get changed.
His shift had officially started.
Nex stood behind the counter and mixed drinks for the guests. They tore up the dance floor, wasting their lives away. His weapon sat by his feet—just in case someone got frisky and started a brawl. But still, if he had his way, there would be no need to draw his sword and shield.
"Hey, kid," a familiar, raspy voice said. "Fancy seeing you here."
Nex put down the mug he was wiping with more force than usual. If he had his way, he would be reaching for his sword and shield. "Qrow Branwen," he said. "Here for a drink?"
A decade had passed since that fateful night, but as the saying went: an axe forgets, but the tree remembers.
Nexus Shade stared into the huntsman's eyes.
To be fair, Qrow Branwen broke eye contact first.
The music transitioned into a song with a slow beat, something that lied between pop and EDM. Despite the change, the frantic dancing still looked as pointless and as draining as ever. The rush hour laid dying, croaking for its last breath, but there were still plenty of people out to enjoy the Atlesian night life.
"I'm not surprised the bartender knows you, Qrow," a feminine voice said.
The white-haired huntress sat on the stool beside Qrow, tapping the glass counter with a short, polished nail. She wore a conservative coat and skirt combo—white with black accents. It contrasted the huntsman attire that seemed to be the only thing Qrow ever wore.
Not a date then.
Maybe a casual acquaintance.
The saber fastened to her belt revealed she was a huntress, but absolutely nothing else. At least, not without pushing his semblance into overdrive.
"Fuck off, ice queen," Qrow said, sparing the huntress a red-eyed look. "Give me some of the special."
Definitely not a date.
Nex mixed said special with little trouble. It was the easiest shooter from the book he memorized.
Mekel drilled the art of mixing into his skull until he could come up with drinks in his sleep. Which is what he most certainly looked like right now: a half-asleep, bleary-eyed zombie mixing alcohol behind a glass counter.
"A flight of everything you have, please," the huntress said, placing the appropriate amount of lien on the counter.
She definitely looked familiar, with her high cheekbones, pale skin, and sculpted lips. The white hair and the sophisticated accent were more uncommon. Only one person really came to mind.
Shit.
He was really out of it if the first person he thought about in the bar was Weiss.
Nex nodded, matching the brittle smile the huntress wore. He served her a dozen samples of their finest drinks.
She accepted the selection with a curt nod.
"So..."
Qrow broke the lull that came over them.
Although, was there really even a them?
Nexus Shade was just an ordinary bartender serving drinks to his guests. He most certainly did not come here to hang out. Apparently, neither did the huntress, wearing a flat face like she did.
"You work here?" Qrow said, tipping a shot of the special into his throat.
"Seeing as I'm the one mixing the drinks," Nex said, mixing another drink, "you might want to ask another question, birdbrain."
The huntress smirked, glancing at the birdbrain's empty shot glass—the only one of its kind. "Clearly, you've had too much to drink if you failed to grasp something so obvious."
Nex smiled, humming to himself as he wiped a mug. Qrow's first shot and the huntress already called him a lightweight. Sick burn. It earned the huntress a spot on his list of cool adults, taking the place right under Mekel.
Qrow moaned into the counter. "Ganged up by a cheeky brat and an ice queen. I'll drink until I pass out."
"Yeah, you do that," Nex said, rolling his eyes. "As long as you pay your tab and don't throw up on the counter, you'll be fine."
"Tab?" Qrow said, lifting his face from the glass. There was a smudge that looked suspiciously like his ugly face. "I already have a tab?"
"I'd be more surprised if there was an establishment that didn't have your tab," the huntress said. "But your, ahem, notoriety is quite admirable."
"Gee, thanks," Qrow said, grimacing at the compliment. "How's school?"
Nex quirked an eyebrow, wiping the smudge with a wet rag. "Fine."
Qrow grinned, cupping his mouth in a faux-whisper. He leaned forward. "Just fine? No breads in the oven? No eggs in the pan?"
The huntress' eyes narrowed, seemingly unimpressed with her male counterpart. "I can still hear you. You do know that, correct?"
"No one asked you, ice queen," Qrow said, leaning back into his stool. "Why are you even here?"
The huntress barely touched her drinks, only taking small sips every now and then. Clearly, she did not come here for the exquisite company. She turned her nose up at the sweaty dancing, catching some heads—mostly the male kind. Heads that turned away after she shot them a frigid glare.
"General Ironwood ordered me to act as your shadow for the duration of your stay in Atlas," the huntress said. "As an Atlesian specialist, it is not my place to question his orders."
Qrow stifled a sigh, knocking back another shot. He gestured to keep them coming. "Jimmy's playing cock-block. Great. Don't be like the ice queen, kid. Or gods forbid, date someone like her."
He was definitely going to keep that in mind. Someone a little warmer than an ice cube would be great. But a warm ice cube would be fine as well.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" the huntress said with a short hiccup. "Am I not desirable?"
Qrow returned to his faux-whispering. He wagged his finger at the scowling huntress. "See? The thing with women is, if she asks something like that, you definitely shouldn't answer. It's a trap card. One of the best in their arsenal."
Her ears reddened.
Nex smiled. "What should I do then, if a hypothetical woman does ask me this exact question?"
Not that anyone came to mind.
"Say she's desirable," Qrow said. "Or don't. Either way, you're most definitely screwed."
Nex placed another shot in front of the birdbrain. "But you're the one who said not to answer."
Qrow downed it with one gulp. "Look, kid. Am I the cool, expert uncle or am I the broody teen who's having trouble with his dating life?"
"I'm not having trouble with my dating life," Nex said. It was the glaring flaw in the birdbrain's statement. "It's non-existent. A non-priority."
Besides, the only women he had ever met were either too psychopathic, taken, or way out of his league. Not a lot of good choices there.
Why was he even thinking about this, anyway?
There were far more important things to consider.
Nex served another drink to a familiar huntsman, taking the lien from the regular. He smiled even as the huntsman sneered at him, blue eyes fixed on the ears attached to his head.
"That's admirable," the huntress said, definitely throwing him a bone. "Too many teenagers get hooked on casual dating and neglect their education."
"Booooriiiiing," Qrow said. "I thought you were cool. I really did."
The huntress finally found the courage to down a shot of thick alcohol. "There's nothing wrong with a good work ethic, is there? I, for one, am quite happy that my little sister hasn't had the pleasure of going on a date."
"Shit," Qrow said. "There's a littler ice queen? Gods forbid."
Nex busied himself with wiping the counter.
Qrow and the huntress bickered like teacher and student. Seeing as how the huntress seemed at least one generation younger than Qrow, it looked to be exactly that. A reunion between student and teacher in one of the city's less than reputable establishments.
Well, good for them.
It was almost midnight when Qrow collapsed on the counter.
The huntress smiled apologetically, shaking her head in exasperation. It seemed to be a genuine one, perhaps the very first of its kind on her lips.
The evening had been a marathon, but their on and off conversations made it shorter. Honestly, it was probably the reason why no one talked to him at school. That, or his wolf ears. No time to find out exactly which.
Although the latter seemed more likely.
The red-faced huntress hiccupped, fumbling with her words. "I'll take care of Qrow. He's staying in Atlas Academy under heavy watch. He can't sneak out and escape."
Nex shrugged, bobbing his head into a nod. Was the huntress joking or was Qrow really under house arrest? "Great," he said.
The huntress paid for Qrow's tab, leaving at least a thousand lien for the tip.
Nex made sure to convey his thanks for the exorbitant amount, which the huntress acknowledged with a drooping nod.
He glanced at his scroll. Two minutes after midnight. Every muscle in his deceptive physique knew what that meant.
Fuck.
Nexus Shade groaned.
At the prospect of tomorrow.