Chapter 3: The Hurt That Finds You First

"Taste visions of ruin and thirst, make for safe haven but I will find you first..."

Rain whipped against stone. Lightning and thunder clashed in the acrid skies, re-enacting a war no historian could recall.

And he could definitely not care less. Instead, he crouched over the dead earth, holding an umbrella over his head. He wiped the mud-caked inscription with his handkerchief, the brown staining the white.

Classes had been dismissed early due to the thunderstorm, a normality caused by another failed joint experiment between the SDC and the military. The media was having a field day with the incident, with most of the outlets reporting about an important egghead's death. One would think that Atlas would already be used to failed experiments and the like, just like how it got used to its numerous celebrities.

But maybe that was expecting too much from people.

And maybe Roman had something to do with the failed experiment.

Nex shook his head. That SDC shipment would not be available for a few more months.

Not that he wanted to go home, not just yet. He had to make a stop first. The rain could not stop him.

Never could.

In Loving Memory of Amariss Shade. Dead due to life circumstances.

He giggled at the inscription. His mother would have laughed at the morbidity of the statement. She was cool like that.

Nex dropped a bouquet of white flowers on the chipped, polished stone. "Happy birthday, mom."

The pitter-patter of rain waltzed on his umbrella.

Nex stood there—a passenger on the boat of time. A few years ago, he would have raged and cursed at the heavens. Now, he was too tired and too lazy to even scream. His mother would be rolling in her actual grave if she saw what he had become.

"Kid," someone else under his umbrella rasped. "Mary wouldn't want you to get sick like this. She'd want you to go home."

Nex sighed, closing his umbrella. He spun on his heel, slashing at Qrow with the implement.

Neo had to be on to something with her parasol-fu, right?

The bastard dodged the half-hearted blow, quirking an eyebrow, crimson eyes fixed on his footwork.

The rain drenched the both of them.

The world was definitely none the better for it.

"She wouldn't want to be dead either," Nex said, holding the umbrella by his side. There was no point in using the implement for its intended purpose. He was already soaked. "You'll forgive me if I beat your smelly ass with this umbrella."

Qrow chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. He could have definitely cut the umbrella in half with the sword tucked under his cape. "You know, you remind me of her."

"Sure," Nex said, rolling his eyes. He turned to face the silent memorial. "Let's go with that."

Once upon a time, he would have really done it. He would have beaten Qrow with an umbrella, the age difference between them be damned. But the huntsman never showed up for the funeral. No one did. It rained. He was there. Holding an umbrella over his mom.

Then he withdrew from public school to settle his mother's assets. Afterwards, he returned as if nothing happened. Whether it was out of pride or something else, he definitely had no clue. But still, he strummed to the beat of life, maintaining some semblance of normalcy. And then his rhythm began to slip. Atlas was difficult enough for a single huntress raising a small child. And he had only been seven. No one cared about his circumstances, especially since he was just another face in the crowd. Atlas was definitely the wrong kingdom for that. The wrong kingdom for empathy.

Thus, he descended into low-profile theft, morally-ambiguous work, and playing guitar outside the Huntsman's Respite—anything a seven-year-old orphan could do to survive on the floating city of Atlas. He made a promise. And his mother was definitely proud of him. Everything he did was enough to pay for the bills and put some food in his belly. Kids his age played in the park and cried about scraped knees. But not the orphaned ones. Not Nexus Shade. He assumed the role of a kid too busy playing an adult.

"I'm serious, you know," Qrow said. "You're strong. Just like Mary."

Nex chuckled, his throat coiling like a Taijitu. "She wasn't strong enough. If she was, she'd still be here."

Pitter-patter. Pitter. The rain crashed through the clouds. If only he would melt so the rain could wash him away.

It would be easy.

Too easy.

His fist clenched.

"Why'd she die?" Nex said, his eyes narrowing. "You and that silver-eyed huntress. You were there."

Qrow glanced at the memorial, fingering a flask peeking out of his pocket. "Grimm. The Grimm got her."

Nex resisted the urge to throttle the birdbrain and commit second-degree murder. It was definitely animal abuse. "Liar."

"Not lying," Qrow said, bringing the flask to his mouth. "Drink?"

Nex took the proffered flask, glancing at the swill inside before he took a sip. The whiskey scorched the back of his throat, liquid fire swimming into his belly. "Not the real reason then. The Grimm killed her, but it was more than just that."

Qrow retrieved his flask and took a swig. How he could stomach such a bitter brew was a mystery. "Kid, if there's one thing I've learned in life, is that there's always more than meets the eye. The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

"What?" Nex said, his jaw clenching.

Qrow rubbed his temples like he was coming on with a migraine. "Look, surviving every day's nice and dandy, but you gotta have some purpose. Live a little. Not everyone can survive forever."

A purpose for living.

He never really thought about it. Admittedly, the bustling city life—training, studying and working—had numbed him to anything else. If he graduated from prep school then he would move on to one of the huntsman academies. He would graduate, receive his huntsman license, and follow in his mother's footsteps.

The master plan.

And then?

Nothing really came to mind. But that was most certainly not what Qrow meant when he asked.

"I don't know," Nex said, shrugging. "Want me to seek revenge?"

Qrow laughed for the first time. "Revenge for what? It wouldn't bring Mary back."

Nex nodded. Exactly. Revenge would not have brought her back. Nothing would. Not unless someone out there had a semblance that revived people. That would have been a sight to see.

"Find something else. Find somebody. Anything. You're young," Qrow said. "There's gotta be something or someone out there that can hold your attention without you falling asleep."

Nex stared at the endless Atlesian skyline, at the storm raging on the horizon. "Maybe there is something or someone. I can think of one or two. What's yours?"

"That's easy," Qrow said with a tall nod. "I've got certain people and kids I care about. I fight Grimm so they can have peaceful lives."

Was it really that easy?

Nex turned his back on his mother's memorial. This purpose business would solve itself in the future. His thoughts were swirling. He needed a break.

"I'm going to the bar," Nex said. "See you there?"

You could take the Nex out of the obsession, but you could not take the obsession out of the Nex. He smiled at Mekel's barely coherent jab at his workaholic tendencies. No doubt the Huntsman's Respite would be busy. With the storm over their heads, people needed to be in high spirits. No other place served that purpose better than a bar.

"Not this time, kid. I've got a mission," Qrow said. "Top secret military style. Don't tell the Schnee that I told you."

Nex raised an eyebrow. "Weiss Schnee?"

Qrow grinned. Definitely at something he said. "Winter Schnee. Remember the ice queen?"

Apparently, Qrow's huntress friend was Weiss' sister. And he definitely had no clue his lab partner had a sister. Older than her, judging from the woman's much more developed physique. But he could hardly blame himself. He never really talked to Weiss about stuff like family. Most of the time, it was dust this and dust that. Or better yet, it was wake up, Nex and you lazy dolt. Or the best ones—are you even listening? and ugh, I give up.

Safe stuff. School stuff. Never stuff that could have been a minefield.

"Sure," Nex said. "Not like I could tell the ice queen even if I wanted to."

When Nex arrived at the Huntsman's Respite, it was to the sight of a near-empty establishment. The storm had knocked out most of the electricity in the red-light district.

Mekel stood at the middle of the club, dominating the dance floor. The grizzled man scowled at his goons. They were trying to put together what seemed to be a cross between a turtle and a giant robot. Wires popped out of the device, sending sparks racing through the wet air.

The goon fiddling with the biggest wire cursed as it fizzled. "This isn't worth it!"

"It better be worth it!" Mekel said, the bearded man waving his fist. "I'm not losing any more lien to this dust-forsaken storm."

Nex leaned against the far wall, arms crossed over his dripping jacket. "Is this a bad time?"

Mekel grinned, his eyes brightening. "Nexus Shade. You're a sight for sore eyes. Get over here."

An hour passed by the time Nex finished tinkering with the generator. The rain crashed harder, even as the first few customers slipped through the door, dragging wet shoes and clothes through the club. The huntsmen and huntresses sat on the velvet couches, exchanging gossip and imbibing spirits. A classical ballad cooed through the speakers, a welcome relief from the mindless beats that typically filled the club.

The Huntsman's Respite straddled the line between the red light and the central districts—the closest club to Atlas Primary. It was hardly surprising when a few storm-struck civilians entered the establishment, tugging off their suits and placing them on one of the coat racks by the door. The racks normally went unused, and some of Mekel's goons had to wipe them down just for the evening. The civilians formed their own little circle, sitting away from the armed men and women—regulars of the aptly-named Huntsman's Respite.

Nex slumped into his very own table, nursing a half-empty mug of iced tea. His clothes dried an hour ago, thanks to the toasty heater Mekel managed to dig out. His usually slicked back hair fell in wavy tresses, brushing his cheeks and exposing his wolf ears for all of the patrons to see. But still, not a single patron spared him a glance or shared his table. Dressed in his Atlas Primary uniform, he probably looked every bit the confused teenager who was in way over his head. The only things missing were mascara, a cigar, and some hair dye. If he managed those, then Nexus Shade could resemble a stereotypical Roman Torchwick going through an angsty, rebellious phase.

Nex winced at the build-up of white noise, his ears flattening on his scalp.

A familiar hand placed a familiar weapon on the glass. The crystal-white rapier stared at his face, even as its owner placed a hand on her hip.

"Nex," Weiss Schnee said, still dressed in her uniform. Black splotches stained her grey coat. Mud caked her black stockings, barely noticeable under the calm, fluorescent lights. "What are you doing here?"

Nex heaved a sigh as she took the seat right across him. "I could ask you the same. This is... well..."

His semblance could already predict the gaze of the civilians and the huntsmen alike. No doubt Weiss looked familiar, even as she let down her damp ponytail and pressed it with a towel. Some of the less-reputable goons shuffled in their seats, whispering and staring at the woman seated across him.

Nex lifted his head from the table, sweeping his eyes around the club. His hand brushed Hrunting and Vigilance, the weapon propped up against a nearby pillar. Half of the onlookers looked away. The other half continued drinking as if nothing happened. They were huntsmen and huntresses—regulars that knew his face and the sharpness of his sword. The civilians simply knew better.

"I was looking for refuge from the storm," Weiss said, totally oblivious to the atmosphere. He could not possibly blame her. It was probably her first time in this kind of place. Right now, the club looked like some sort of fancy, upscale lounge. "This was the best establishment that I could find."

Nex pursed his lips. A lot of things stood out from her statement.

Should he point them out or pry?

No.

A diversion would be better.

"Same here," Nex said. "Want a drink?"

Weiss glanced at his half-empty mug of iced tea. "If it's not too inconvenient."

The teen manning the counter seemed to be one of Mekel's greenest goons. He was fumbling with a wet mug, trying his best to wipe it with one hand. But other than that, the teen looked way more relaxed than he probably ever did on his rush-hour shift.

Nex placed an elbow on the counter. "The name's Nex. Mekel's told you about me?"

The teen nodded. "Yes, sir. What do you need?"

Sir? Holy shit. This one was a keeper.

"Iced tea," Nex said, smiling in good humour. "Put it in a pint. Four scoops of red, three scoops of white on the rocks. Stir for seven seconds before you place the cut ice. Make it as smooth and light as possible. I want two of the stuff—and don't put a drop of alcohol or anything funny in them. We shouldn't be serving minors. But well, we do what we gotta do in these troubled times."

He half-doubted the teen would perform a snappy salute. But he was sorely disappointed when his fellow bartender mixed the drinks instead. He carried the two mugs back to his table, placing one mug in front of Weiss with a small flourish. She smiled at the gesture and thanked him for the drink.

"So..." Nex said, his brain shutting down. What the hell was he supposed to talk about? Screw it. "Why here?"

Weiss arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Nex shrugged, heat creeping up his neck, but he recovered admirably. "I mean, you should be home by now. School was cancelled more than an hour ago."

And he must have looked like a fool. But he was already being foolish. Whatever happened to the oceanic gap of class, intelligence, and practically everything between them?

"That's..." Weiss trailed off, frowning. "Complicated and personal. Can we talk about something else?"

Apparently, her home was a massive sore spot. His semblance gnawed at the back of his skull—a warning about every little thing that could go wrong. Thus, the best play was to place the ball in her court.

"Yeah, sure," Nex said. "What do you want to talk about?"

Weiss nodded, raising her chin as she squared her shoulders. "Let's start with the basics. Where do you live?"

Nex smiled. That seemed safe enough. "Upper residential district. You?"

Weiss tapped the edge of the glass. "I live in the same place as you, apparently. Do you have any hobbies?"

Hobbies. The only thing that came to mind was his skill as a musician, but it was doubtful he could even compare to her. There was also his skill as a hacker and a technician, but that was more of a job than a hobby. He also had to keep that one a secret—thief code and all. And then, there was his skill as a fighter. But that was the furthest thing from a hobby ever since the word was conceived.

"I play the guitar," Nex said, listening to her steady heartbeat. Dub dub dub. "I also sing a little. But I don't think I'm very good."

Dust. When did he last play the guitar?

Probably the last time he performed in a tavern somewhere, wandering the lawless frontier and honing his sword against bandits and monsters.

Weiss quirked an eyebrow. "You play? What genres do you like?"

"Alternative," Nex said. "Sometimes rock or classical."

Weiss nodded. "I don't listen to the first two, but I do enjoy a bit of classical. Would you recommend them?"

Nex shrugged. Hardly surprising. "I would. But it's honestly your choice what type of music you like. Don't let my tastes influence yours."

Weiss hummed, flashing him a smile. "I should listen to you play some time."

Nex matched her smile, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm not any good, I assure you."

"I don't believe you," Weiss said, her heart beating faster. Dub dub dub dub. "A lot of professionals say that the ability to grasp music is dependent on one's hearing. And you happen to have an extra pair of ears."

They did?

Nex touched his wolf ears, the soft fur stiffening at his touch. Tingles raced through his skin, like spiders made of electricity. He had to put his hand down.

Weiss flushed, staring into the abysmal depths of her drink. "I'm sorry. That was tactless of me. I shouldn't have phrased it like that."

Nex waved a hand. "Nope, it's fine. You can be as tactless as you like. It's only an extra pair of ears. They don't define me or anything."

But they branded him in the eyes of the public. Oh well, oh well. They had their uses beyond being a status symbol.

"Do you really think that?" Weiss said, her eyes peering into his. "Do you really believe that people can be more than what they are?"

Nex frowned at the strange question. But he definitely got the gist of it. "Well, yeah. Faunus, human, student, huntress... Ultimately, they're just labels and arbitrary categories. What's important is who you really are and what you're striving for."

And he would certainly know all about the first part. Qrow's words supplied the second. But still, he did not know what his purpose was. Not yet. It was naive to hope he would figure it out after only a few hours of thinking. It was not something his semblance could puzzle out for him. No, it was something he had to learn for himself. Maybe it would turn into his next obsession. Mekel would be over the moon about it.

"Forgive me if I don't believe you," Weiss whispered. "But once again, you've given me something to think about."

Of course. There was certainly nothing to expect from her, much less believe. But still, there was that second part of what she said.

Nex quirked an eyebrow. "I've given you things to think about?"

Weiss nodded, her lips curling into a mysterious smile. "Definitely."

And she said nothing more.