"Alright people, listen up!" Jaune cried, calling his team to attention. Looking each and every one of them in the eye as he walked down the row: serene Ren, tempestuous Nora, peerless Pyrrha… he knew his enemy, and he knew that it all came down to him to maintain order.
With their attention firmly on him, Jaune barked out, "We will be getting dinner with the International Team tonight, and over the course of this night, I intend to show our guests how hospitable Beacon can be, is that understood?"
"Yes!" his team answered in unison.
"I will be prioritizing my time to ensure that dinner is properly prepared, Mr. Ren? You'll be assisting me in doing so."
"Yes, sir," Ren answered with a respectful nod.
"Ms. Nikos, Ms. Valkyrie, it then falls on you to ensure the table is set and decorated and that our guests feel welcomed when you greet them—and there will be no chaos tonight, am I clear?"
"Yes sir, Jaune-Jaune, sir!" Nora saluted, "If I'm on my best behavior for the entire night, I have your permission to break Cardin's legs!"
A panicked Ren cut in, "Nora, that wasn't the-"
"No," Jaune said with a grim shake of his head, "I'll allow it. Every carrot in my larder is in play tonight, and if that's what it takes, that's what it takes. Pyrrha?"
Pyrrha nodded. "I am going to keep conversation light and avoid talking about Vytal strategy."
"That's my girl," Jaune said with a relieved smile, "And you're not…"
Pyrrha turned red, her eyes downcast, before giving a mumbled recitation, "I won't deduce anyone's combat weaknesses at dinner or visualize how I could defeat them. And if I do, I certainly will not tell them in detail how I'd do it."
Jaune nodded, then turned to his final teammate. "Ren?"
"Provide intellectually stimulating conversation on the arts, such as early modern Valean poetry…"
His words dissolved into a blur for Jaune, but it was a good blur. The sound of culture, and while Huntsman were a… rambunctious culture, having Ren class up the event would help. And on the other hand…
"Nora?" he asked.
Her grin grew wide before answering with a single word: "Splosions."
Jaune raised an eyebrow.
"Alright," Nora groaned, "I can talk about weaponry and combat, but I will keep it focused on Huntsman stuff.
"And no…"
"And no proposing we blow stuff up," she recited, "Happy now?"
Jaune smiled and nodded. "Very," he answered, "As you know, I'm doing something… unwise tonight."
"We actually don't know what you mean," Ren, tragically unaware of drama, cut in, "Everything so far has been highly-"
"Yes, yes, yes," he cut Ren off, "But… as host, I have… obligations that might make the night more… raucous than necessary."
Jaune glanced at the bottle of Arceaux he'd broken out for the night. And the other bottles he'd bought. Ill advised, but at the same time… He had a sworn duty. He looked back to Ren, then Pyrrha, and finally Nora, each giving him a solemn nod in turn. But… even if he kept the glasses topped off… he trusted his team. He trusted his team in battle, and he could trust them at parties.
Renewing his confidence with that thought, he let a grin come to his face as he declared, "Team, we're representing Beacon tonight, but we're also doing something even more important."
Even Ren raised a curious eyebrow at that as Jaune's smile crept wider across his face.
"We're showing up Team RWBY and making JNPR the face of this school!"
They all broke out in laughter. Jaune mostly meant it as a joke, but it would feel good, after a whole semester of RWBY making headlines and fighting criminals, to have JNPR step up as the premier Beacon Team… even if it was under his leadership.
This was his team. These were the people Jaune knew better than anyone, in all their quirks and foibles and tendency to solve problems through swiftly-directed violence. With a curt, deliberate nod, he signaled that it was time to move, to get to work, and they hopped to his orders without a second thought.
If only Ms. Goodwitch could see this… and not all the times Jaune had gotten his ass kicked in class. Especially when bringing in the other schools had not helped on that front. Not because he was getting beat down, but the opposite: it had been a while since Jaune had had a spar, with so many other students to try out unique matches and practices. A few months ago, Jaune would have been more than happy to be overlooked, but with his training under Pyrrha, he felt like he could at least hold his own and show his ability.
His last match had been a doubles match with him and Pyrrha against two Atlesian students, and he'd barely had a chance to do anything in it, just block a shotgun blast with his shield (which didn't even knock him over!) and then watch Pyrrha just… rip through them. Particularly aggressively, which made Jaune feel a little weird about how protective she was being. But it also meant there wasn't much anyone, much less Ms. Goodwitch, could say about his performance. But right now, as Jaune hit the kitchen and took command of this event, he really felt like a real leader. Balancing the timing of each element of the meal, hearing the rapid chops of the knife flashing in Pyrrha's hand, the thump of the dough as Nora vigorously kneaded it (and a quick note to her not to overknead the gluten), Ren bringing him the bowls he needed… this was his element.
The Grimm, nothing. This was hospitality, and Jaune had been raised from childhood to never fail in this arena!
If she kept staring at the door, someone would catch her. Make a comment on it. One that would point out how weird she was being. But her only other option was to go up and knock on the door, and… well, how was she supposed to do that? Why couldn't luck cut her way and let her show up as Reese or Neon did, so she could just follow their lead?
But they probably planned on showing up fashionably late. Because they were cool and weren't gripped with anxiety when they thought about being late. And not just because she was supposed to counter stereotypes of the lazy Vacuan with no sense of time! Timing was crucial for May, her abilities as a sniper relied on patiently waiting for her moment and finding the rhythms of her prey. You didn't just "show up" and hope for the best. Watching Neon and Reese in battle… everything they did was so… casual and fluid, it was almost like they didn't even have to think about what they were doing! And yet, it came so naturally to them it was like the patterns they wove on their wheels was just the most obvious thing in the world. Everything they did seemed so effortless that May had to wonder what was wrong with her that she was standing in front of a door, rooted to the floor like there was a bomb wired to the handle, her hands starting to tremble badly enough she might drop the wine-
Why did Roy have to tell her the wine was stolen? Couldn't he just keep up the illusion that he'd purchased the wine in a legal and sensible fashion and not told her how he'd jimmied the commissary lock? And why did a school have bottles of wine in their commissary!
Ugh, this wouldn't be a problem for Neon. She'd probably brag about bringing stolen goods, making a show of how, just because she was an Atlesian, she wasn't all about law and order. But… maybe that was the way? Conjuring up in her mind an imaginary Neon, May tried to gain insight into what to do…
"You should pull up your shirt and flash the whole Team!" Imaginary-Neon declared, "Boys like a girl who's totally uninhibited, and you've got a great pair of-"
Okay, that was enough from imaginary Neon! May furiously banished the thought from her mind as she turned instead to Reese for some slightly more inhibited advice.
"How about you just knock on the door?" the imaginary Haven rep suggested, "That's be, like, the normal thing to do. Cause, y'know, you're trying to be normal and all."
May cringed—she was not expecting her subconscious to be so… pointed, but it did the trick. Spurred on by shame, May stepped forward, rapped on the door, and…
"Oh, hello!" Pyrrha said as she opened the door, a dazzling grin on her face that reminded May that she was a spokesmodel on top of being a combat champion, "You must be the Vacuan representative!"
"Y-yes…" May mumbled, wholly under the spell of celebrity. She was standing in the presence of perfection, an invincibility that went beyond the ring and into the realms of regret and self doubt. A girl who knew what she wanted—and got it—who strode through life without any of the anxieties that so dominated May's mind. "I-it's a pleasure to meet you…"
"A pleasure to meet you too!" she cheerfully replied, "If you keep looking at my boyfriend, I'll gouge your eyes out!"
…okay, she hadn't said that last part. Out loud, at least. Her eyes were saying it, though. Cheerful and upbeat as she turned to announce May's arrival to her team, but May knew that a girl like Pyrrha would not be fooled if May even gave her boyfriend a covert glance. Something that was difficult as Jaune appeared from the kitchen, an apron across his broad, muscular chest making him a sight May could never have imagined for any of her boys, not as image conscious as they were about their masculinity. But Jaune… he was so clearly in charge of the scene that May suddenly felt a swoon…
Then she remembered Pyrrha and focused up, hard.
"Oh, hey May!" Jaune said with the devil-may-care confidence of a man utterly in control of the scene, an attitude that left no illusions as to why he was selected as leader of the International Team. "You're a little early, but that's great!"
"H-here!" she squeaked, thrusting the bottle basically into his hands. Jaune gingerly took it from her before turning to see the label.
"Oh!" he said, clearly hiding his judgment—this was the wine kingdom, obviously their representative would know his wines! Stupid, stupid, stupid May!—before he flashed May a grin, "This is actually perfect! And like my mom always says, a bottle of wine is always a welcome gift! But… I've gotta attend to stuff in the kitchen, but don't worry, Pyrrha can entertain you while we finish up on dinner!"
With that Jaune turned around and returned to the kitchen. Leaving May alone in a dining room with a woman she was more afraid of than anything in this world.
Though… turning to see her face—more or of fear that to not do it might be taken as disrespect—May saw something… unexpected.
And familiar.
It was a tremble of the eye, a nervous twitch of the lip that nobody would notice. Something an ordinary person—or even a highly observant person—wouldn't notice under Pyrrha's carefully sculpted presentation. But May could see it. Not as a keen-eyed sniper, but as… a girl who only half an hour before had been staring at her own face in the mirror to try and banish those same gestures from her own face.
It was the single most absurd thought to cross May's mind, to think of herself as someone in the same boat as Pyrrha Nikos, but that burst of empathy… made her unexpectedly bold. Perhaps because of how many times she'd rehearsed in her head what she wished someone would say when she didn't have a clue what to say.
"I'm terribly sorry," she said with a smile, "but I never know how to make small talk."
The change that came over Pyrrha's face was simply extraordinary, her posture relaxing as her smile became softer, but more genuine. They both felt the tension lift as Pyrrha said, "I never know what to say either. I have so much training in how to answer questions from the press, but when I'm one-on-one… Augh! I'm good with a sword, not conversation."
May nodded, marveling at how strange this all was as she answered, "I know! Like, Shade is teaching me how to use a rifle, I'm good with a rifle, but then they put me on the one team that's all about these social events…"
"Oh!" Pyrrha suddenly interjected, "I've heard about your rifle! Jaune had a lot of compliments for your shooting, and he mentioned you use SonaTech 103s, just like I do!"
Aaaaaand… there went her confidence. A one-two punch of Pyrrha revealing that Jaune was complimenting her… to Pyrrha… and then she brought up how…
Ahhhhh, why did she listen to Brawnz? This wasn't Shade, students here didn't lie on their forms to con a little extra money out of the school! Pyrrha clearly didn't have an inkling that May had lied—why would she? Her partner was Jaune, an upstanding, honest man who surely stood by his word and didn't lie as easily as he breathed—but May's confidence had been shattered.
"Um, y-yeah…" she meekly stammered out. How did Pyrrha seem to just… just suddenly loom over her, she wasn't that much taller than May was! And it wasn't weird that May knew Pyrrha's height, it was easily accessible information online! She was supposed to research potential opponents! It wasn't weird! "They're… they're good rounds…" she lamely concluded.
Not that Pyrrha seemed to notice her awkwardness. "I get my ammunition free because SonaTech's a sponsor of Team Nikos, but honestly, I wouldn't go back to using SDC rounds if they don't renew the deal. Cleaning Miló is such a pain with the triple shift, and-"
"Oh, it's not just a shift issue, trust me," May, in a feat of shocking, rifle-inspired boldness, interrupted, "Cleaning my rifle from dust residue isn't any better when it's always a rifle. Especially with the cheap rounds we're always… um, I mean, when I use SDC instead of… instead of SonaTech…"
But once more, her confidence wavered as she forced herself to remember her lie, that she was using high end rounds instead of whatever bulk purchase ammunition Team BRNZ got their hands on. Still, her awkwardness didn't seem to have much purchase with Pyrrha, who just smiled.
"Can I just say, it's good to just talk shop about rifles. There's another sniper in our sister team here at Beacon, but she uses her rifle more as a utility tool than for shooting."
Technically, Pyrrha didn't use her rifle the same way May did, hence the fact that Pyrrha's weapon only had a rifle as one of its three shifts, but seeing how… how eagerly Pyrrha was taking May into her confidence was buoying May's spirits even after she'd basically made every mistake she could.
"Y'know," she said, feeling uncharacteristically daring in the moment, "When it comes to sniping, I've been trying some new breathing exercises to better ensure accuracy!"
Pyrrha nodded, clearly and shockingly interested in what May had to say. "Ohhh, I haven't really had much practice with that kind of shooting, and I've been meaning to learn more, it seems like a really useful approach for Grimm hunting. I'd love to learn more about it!"
May struggled not to blush, much less babble, as her heart seemed poised to burst with excitement. She could do this. She could have a conversation with Pyrrha and she could actually pull it off!
…and then Jaune stepped out from the kitchen and May remembered the incredibly fraught ground she was on!
"Don't. Embarrass. Us."
Those had been the immortal words of Ciel "Didn't Get Picked To Represent Atlas" Soleil, and Neon was raring for an opportunity to cause problems and really show that holier-than-thou girl where she could shove it. And Neon had found the perfect partner for her intended crime—rather than follow Jaune's intended seating chart, which would have put her next to Pyrrha (good luck causing problems when next to that), she swapped with May and sat next to the bubbly redhead Neon had seen swinging a giant hammer.
Oh, May didn't mind, of course. From the look on her face, she just might die to be seated next to a celebrity like Pyrrha! Ha, and Neon had thought she was pulling a prank on May at first, but it seems she'd misjudged things with May. Not just the cold-blooded killer thing—she actually felt pretty bad about that—but how much she was sure May was crushing on their handsome host. Seemed May was just like that with big shots.
Not that she was put out that she evidently wasn't a big enough celebrity to leave the Vacuan starstruck. Okay, maybe a little put out. But hey, no shame in not being in the same league as the Invincible Girl herself.
Neon's real focus, though, wasn't across the table, but on the girl next to her. The one who seemed to almost give off a static charge of potential energy when near her. Except…
Nora had completely sidetracked Neon into a discussion on pancakes that was actually pretty engrossing. Like, Neon had all sorts of plans to cause mischief, had seen the look of pale, bloodless dread on Jaune's face as she took her seat next to Nora, and then… they were just talking about some good pancake places they'd been to. There was this diner in Atlas where Neon loved hitting up at 3 AM after late nights of doing things Ciel didn't approve of. They had blueberry syrup that couldn't possibly be anything fancy, but ugh, it was so good in those pancakes!
Nora was filling her in on a bunch of places she liked hitting up in town, and she was really making Vale come off as a fun place to be! And then the food came out, and it was so good, so at that point, Neon and Nora were fully sucked into "pleasant dinner conversation" mode. There were, of course… a few details Neon was picking up on. As much as people thought she was an airheaded party girl, Neon knew how to pick up on some heavy things. Like it was pretty clear that Nora was a girl who'd never before had money or privileges like she had now. And considering that Neon's student stipend, at the best-funded school in Remnant, was crap, Nora probably came from some real dire straits.
Neon certainly didn't miss the way her eyes went wide when Jaune brought out the main course. That wasn't a greedy gourmand—this was a girl who was genuinely awed and deeply touched by something as ordinary as a big family dinner. Neon had grown up in the safety of Atlas, but she wasn't blind—she knew what lurked beyond the safety the military and its Specialist Corps offered. And from the looks of things, Nora, in spite of her cheerful, exuberant attitude—the kind that practically marked her as a sister from another mister with Neon—had seen worse than most.
So… maybe Neon would be a bit of an asshole to ruin dinner just to make a point about how she absolutely wasn't going to be respectable just because Ciel was a big whiner. But really, ruining a dinner just to spite Ciel was just another way of letting Ciel run her life! Which Neon would not be doing! So there! In your beret-wearing, not-sufficiently-representative-of-Atlas face!
"So," she turned to Nora with a conspiratorial swagger, "Whaddya say I get some guys from Atlas, you get your buddies from Beacon, and we make a visit to-"
"All I'm saying is," Reese interrupted, perhaps a little more affected by Jaune's hospitality with their cups, "is that Haven's the biggest school, for the biggest Kingdom, so we should get two slots in the Tournament for every one you guys get! And… you guys took Pyrrha, so you should have a handicap!"
Neon saw how Pyrrha awkwardly chuckled at that, clearly uncomfortable with how this line of conversation had gone in the past. Had that been on purpose, keeping Pyrrha separate from the Haven representative? If so, Jaune didn't seem as aware as Pyrrha did of the problem here. And… feeling a little benevolent from meeting Nora, Neon decided to take charge.
"It's all in how you use it," she smoothly cut in, meeting Reese's gaze, "Atlas is the smallest school by choice, just like Haven's the biggest. Like, I know at Haven it's really competitive to get a Vytal spot in the first place, and maybe that sharpens your focus while here," Neon shrugged noncommittally, but inwardly smirked at how well she was defusing this potentially awkward situation, "We all picked what strategy our Kingdom thought made the most sense for how to train Huntsmen, now we gotta live with how it plays out."
Reese seemed to be mollified by Neon's approach, pondering her words rather than snapping to a response. Neon knew how to lower the temperature of a conversation—don't give them anything to harden themselves against, lower your voice, take a middle stance—it's just that she didn't bother most of the time, much preferring to be more fun by starting some drama. Neon gave Jaune a nod, a "you've done me a good turn, now I've done you a good turn" gesture. And that was it!
Except…
"That's interesting," the quiet, dark-haired boy with the pink stripe in his hair (Neon approve of the fashion, if not the volume) cut in, "You would think that Mistral having such a large Huntsman population, not just in raw numbers, but even per capita exceeding all but Atlas, Huntsmen would be more… fairly distributed."
His volume was low, and he was soft-spoken enough that if any other conversation was going on, he'd have been drowned out. But no, Neon could hear him clearly and could hear that there was venom in his voice.
"Oh no…" she heard Nora whisper behind her, "Um, Ren, you don't have to-"
But she was on the exact opposite side of the table from her partner, and he seemed… invested in this in a way that would not be stopped. Not when Reese was sober enough to pick up her real tone, but with enough wine to fog why it'd be bad to respond.
"What do you mean by that?" she shot back, eyes narrowing as she glared at him, "That why you ran off to Vale? Didn't wanna stay and fight for your home-"
"I don't have one."
"Let's move to a different subject!" Nora loudly announced, looking to Jaune for some sort of assistance, but he seemed too bewildered to do much. "Like, um, Neon, you use roller skates, I sometimes ride my hammer around, what kind of mobility tech do you-"
But Ren was leaning forward over the table, neither he nor Reese in a position to back down. Why—why?—did they all have to bring a bottle of wine as a gift? Why couldn't she have brought, like, a decorative gourd or something? Something that didn't make people do regrettable things?
"Mistral…" Ren said, his voice curdled with an anger born from whatever it was that happened to Nora out in the world, "A pompous, self-righteous den of hypocrisy that doesn't care what happens outside the big cities-"
"Hey! I'm not in charge of things!" Reese said, throwing up her hands as she seemed to realize that this conversation was going to a place far darker than she could handle at her level of sobriety, "Just- just chill out, man, you're ruining the dinner and-"
Slamming both palms down on the table, Ren stood up, and Neon realized she had been holding her breath. From the looks on Jaune and Pyrrha's faces, this was not something that was seen as possible, and Neon could not begin to calculate the sheer awkwardness as the young man glared at Reese in livid, too long repressed, fury and demanded, "Do you have any idea what goes on outside of Haven? What the armies of Huntsman—Huntsman like you!—do nothing to prevent? And you come here to ask that you should get a-"
"REN!" Jaune suddenly snapped, rallied back to action by the sheer degree of awkwardness here. "You've gone too far, okay? Reese is a guest here and she is not responsible for-"
"No one's responsible!" Ren shot back, his voice choked with emotion and Neon could see the tears forming in his eyes, "No one's responsible, no one is ever responsible!"
His words cut off in a strangled sound as Nora leapt to her feet and rushed over to her partner. But Ren wasn't inclined to receive her, turning from the table and, with great, long strides, legging it from the room. He threw the door open and left, Nora following close behind, desperately trying to get his attention.
"I'm- I'm sorry, I'm going after him, I'm sorry," Jaune said, more babbling words than able to communicate as he turned to leave. Which meant that, in the room, there was now three blindsided international students and one truly overwhelmed—and decidedly vincible—Pyrrha Nikos.
"He's… he's never done anything like this before," she lamely suggested, sounding more like she was speaking to herself than the table.
So that… that had happened.
Reese stumbled across the grounds in a daze. She wasn't sure how she'd left the party, but it wasn't like anyone there was going to stop her. Reese also didn't know how much of what she was feeling was emotional and how much was wine—she knew she'd been drinking a little too fast!—and she really wasn't sure if she wanted to think about it because…
Because the things Ren said at that dinner had hit home.
Be chill. Be cool. Don't let anything phase you because… Because you don't think about the monsters out beyond the walls, don't think about what life was like when you weren't empowered by aura. Don't think about the people who get eaten alive, the terror of hearing the claws at your door, don't think about the children who'll never forget the sight of their parents being devoured, of learning that there's no safety in this world. Don't- just don't think about it!
Reese acted chill and aloof and like the world didn't matter… because deep down, she never forgot what was out there. She thought about it all the time. Destroyed villages, bandit raids on caravans, walking past the Wall of Honor… as hard as she tried, she could never look away!
When Jaune's teammate blew up on her… Reese saw everything she tried to pretend wasn't out there suddenly springing forward. He'd only said a few words, but the pain in his voice had been enough to breach the dam, and now, it was all coming at her in a wave of emotion. She knew that the Mistralian Council made some bullshit calls, but… she was always worried about getting "political." That just wasn't something she could vibe with, even as she knew, firsthand, how much of the Kingdom's Huntsmen were kept, just as Ren said, to the major cities while the frontiers were left to fend for themselves.
She really didn't know what to do. Where to go. But she did know that when she needed some guidance... she took out her scroll, punched in a number, and hoped for something... something she wasn't sure what she was hoping for.
"Hey Ars," she said dejectedly into her scroll.
"Reese, I- Reese, what did you do?" came her immediate interrogation.
Glaring at her leader, though at least it rallied her a little out of her funk, Reese answered, "I didn't- haaaaah," she sighed, "Yeah, I don't think-"
"You embarrassed us—in front of Pyrrha!" her Team Leader snapped back in a fury, "Ohhh, you know she's looking for any sign that we're weak, just like, two years ago, she psychologically undermined me by acting like she wanted to be my friend, when I knew it was only a-"
"The only person who's obsessed with Pyrrha is you, you lunatic! She was actually pretty chill all party! But…" her tone darkened, her stomach knotting as she said, "one of her teammates… southern Mistralian, I think, from one of… one of the lost villages."
Arslan suddenly turned quiet, the wind taken out of her as her anger, even against Pyrrha, fizzled. "From the Dispossession?" she finally asked.
Reese shook her head. "I don't know, maybe? He'd be old enough, I think."
The Dispossession was the clinical, media-friendly term for a wave of Grimm activity triggered over a decade ago, the result of negativity spiking over economic conflicts that sent a wave of settlers seeking to find new communities… that did not survive the Grimm. Reese had only been a little kid when it happened, but she remembered seeing the maps on TV, the lost villages—maybe one of them was Ren's?—marked in red, making a path that drew closer and closer to her home. She remembered how scared everyone was, but she also remembered seeing how the fear made people selfish. They didn't want to grieve the villages lost, to feel the shattering feelings she felt when she imagined if she was one of the refugees she saw on TV… but along the way, maybe she'd forgotten.
"It's not right!" she suddenly declared, "We know what the Council's doing and we're- we're just out here, representing Haven, earning honor and glory, and just- just- if we were just-"
The tears welled up in her eyes as years of childhood anxiety and sorrow caught up with her in a hurry. "It's- is just-"
"It's not fair?"
Reese nodded, her throat too thick to answer.
"Okay," Arslan said with a sympathetic sigh, "First of all: you didn't do anything wrong Ree- no, you didn't do anything wrong," she insisted, cutting off a potential interjection. "You… you're a good person. You want everyone to be friends and you're better at reaching out to others than I'll ever be, but you've got to learn that you're not responsible for everyone and everything. You act like you don't care, but I know you do, and that's… that's good. You're a good person, Reese. The world would be a different place if the people in charge were more like you. But they're not and you're not responsible for decisions that happened when you were a kid, and you're not responsible for the Council's decisions now."
No one's ever responsible…
She remembered Ren's words and felt how hollow Arslan's comfort felt. "It's not enough," she weakly answered.
The look on Arslan's face was nothing like what Reese had seen before on the demanding Team Leader who always expected better. She gave Reese a long, sorrowful look and replied, "I know. But it's what we have to make peace with."
They were both quiet a moment, reflecting on the world of Remnant, the parts they acknowledged and the parts they tried not to think of. It all felt portentous, like the kind of thoughts Reese should not be having on the better part of a bottle of wine. But at last…
Arslan spoke.
"I wish I had more to say, some leadership and guidance to offer," she said, "Some kind of monk wisdom, but I… I'm more about-"
"The martial arts than the Zen, I know," Reese finished with a wry smile, "But… it did help to just-"
"Ms. Chloris."
"I gotta go," Reese said to her scroll, "but thanks for everything."
Hanging up, she turned to see the chagrined face of Mr. Ren… she did not know his last name.
"I've come to apologize," he said, head bowed, tone solemn. "I made an embarrassment of myself and my conduct was inexcusable. I offer my-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Reese said, raising her hands, "I mean, thank you for the apology, but I… I think you said something that's been eating you up inside for a while."
Eyes downcast, he took a breath.
"A very long time, yes."
"And I…" Reese hesitantly ventured, "I think you… I think you're right about a lot of what's… what's wrong with Mistral. And we can't lose sight of-"
"I should not have-"
"Maybe apologize to Jaune for ruining his party," Reese interrupted, "But… maybe if our culture wasn't so big on decorum, we could actually change how things are done."
They were quiet one more for a moment, then Ren, softly, added: "I will be making restitution with Jaune for my behavior. I can assure you of that."
Reese forced a weak smile. "Well, that's good… but you and me? We're cool."
"Thank you Ms. Chloris," he replied with a contrite bow, which she waved off.
"You don't have to be so formal," she laughed, "We got drunk, said shit… s'not the end of the world. And hey!"
Reaching into her pocket, Reese found the baggy she'd been storing there, raising it up as a sign of conciliation and a return to informality. With a grin, she reached in and proffered a pre-rolled joint to her fellow student.
"You smoke?" she asked.
Ren chuckled, bashfully. "You wouldn't believe how many people think I do. But sure."
She sparked the joint, passing it to Ren. He inhaled—seemed he knew what he was doing—then exhaled a plume of smoke.
"Good stuff."
"I thought you didn't smoke?"
"I only said people assume I do. Not that the assumption was incorrect."
They laughed. Ren passed the joint back to her. Now Reese took in the smoke, feeling the familiar, mellow buzz of the Mistralian leaf. She remembered old Huntsman lore that a slight high helped ward the Grimm away, that intoxication could bring paradoxical clarity… and that sometimes, you just had to smoke it out. Passing the joint back and forth in silence, Reese appreciated the quiet calm between-
"OHTHANKTHEBROTHETSTHEREYOUARE!"
Reese whirled to see Ren's… partner? Sister? Still not entirely sure what their deal was. Either way, she burst onto the scene, halfway out of breath.
"It's- it's fine, Nora," Ren said with his hands raised, "We talked things through and I made my apology for-"
"Yeahyeahyeah, that's important!" she cut in, "But something else happened while this was going on. Ren! It's a Cardin emergency!"
"You broke his legs?" Ren asked, aghast in a way that suggested this was a strong possibility.
But Nora shook her head. "Uh-uh, not- not me. Headbutt contest—which you said I couldn't organize—some Atlesian girl, I think the one Ruby's friends with, cracked his skull! He got sent to the infirmary! Team Leaders got called to Ozpin, everyone's about to get ordered back to dorms!"
"...Because Cardin got hurt?" Ren asked. Evidently, Cardin was the lovable, accident-prone meathead type, like what happened when Sun, Nadir, and Bolin were left unsupervised, or worse, with Neptune.
"I don't know!" Nora said in lieu of explanation, "Jaune just sent me—well, sent Pyrrha, but I knew how to find my Renny to make sure everyone's accounted for!"
The two of them seemed bewildered, but Reese was already putting two and two together, her mind already in the frame to think about politics.
An Atlesian, presumably accidentally but possibly not, injured a Valean student… right when tensions were high and a foreign military was floating above the school. Would people believe this was harmless idiocy—would it be good if they knew how much harmless idiocy Huntsmen did?—or would they see it as underhanded violence to secure victory from an already suspicious party? The Headmasters would have to pull out every card they had to encourage international cooperating, and one of them… was the International Team.
Maybe she wasn't responsible for everything, but Reese could do some good here. And taking another drag on her peace offering to Ren, she figured she just had to hope her Leader knew what he was doing.
Thanks to Renarde for feedback on this work!