Headlines back at the top again.
Cover Art: GWBrex
Chapter 22
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Robyn Hill calls for reforms in Atlas Council due to "mishandling" of Arc case
Atlas Times
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Vale promises deeper look into actions taken in Ansel. Head of Council Mayor Coppersmith promises those who broke the law will be punished
Vale Daily Tribune
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Arc attendance at Vytal Festival finals confirmed – insiders claim he is excited to be getting back to watching the fights
The Mistral Review
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All eyes on Vytal Festival as final day begins
Vacuo Today
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Faunus told to tune into Vytal Festival: "Expect GREAT THINGS" says Corsac Albain
Kuo Kuana Express
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"Well," asked Jaune, once it was over and the news was out. He looked to General Ironwood. "Do you think I did the right thing?"
"I think you bravely confronted everyone," said Ironwood, carefully. "And I do not think you did the wrong thing. I only worry that what you've done might put you at further risk. In an ideal world, this would be enough."
"But we don't live in an ideal world."
"We do not."
He might have called the man cynical not so long ago but he knew better now. So many people were in it for themselves and just wanted to pull others down any way they could. There would be some who would start calling him weak and pathetic and work-shy. Others would take it too far the other way and pity him without even once trying to understand. Then there would be some who would just say he was lying.
"I don't care what they think," he decided. "I just want the truth to be out there. If they don't believe it then that's their own problem. It'll just show me which people I can't trust."
"We can crack down on those if you like," offered Ironwood. When Jaune sent him a confused look, he explained. "We have a list of approved media outlets and journalists invited to key events. We can blacklist those who spread lies about you. It won't stop them doing so, but it'll mean they lose access to you – which is bad for their parent companies."
"Won't they see that as me trying to put them down?"
"Perhaps," admitted Ironwood, "But if you say you don't care…"
Good point. "Do it. I'm done letting them dictate my life. I've tried to put up with it all but…" He didn't know how to finish. Thankfully, Ironwood did, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I understand. We can talk strategy back in Atlas once the Vytal Festival is over. I will have words with the Council and make your position clear. I trust you will visit Dr Seng again on your return?"
Jaune looked down at the floor. "Yes sir."
"Good man." Ironwood squeezed his shoulder. "There's no shame in accepting help. No weakness."
"I know. I just…"
"It's easy to say it about others but hard to follow the advice yourself." Ironwood surprised him with such accurate words, and a warm laugh after. "You're not the first to find that out. I was no different. I'd sent many of my soldiers to therapy, never once judging them for it, and when someone suggested I might seek the same, I was as resistant as you. It's funny how the mind works that way, but then I've found it's always easier to give advice than to follow it."
Jaune laughed. "Yeah. I guess so."
"Ready to face the world?"
"I'm ready to sit in a VIP box and watch some matches. I'm not so sure about the world."
"I've withdrawn you from any hospital visits, so that shouldn't be a problem."
That was good – to a point. "How did Mistral react?"
"The Council of Mistral was understanding."
"Really?"
"They want your visit to their country to be a good one, so when faced with medical reasons you should relax, they were quick to offer you as much time as you need. They've also offered to let you have full use of several spa and relaxation therapies if you wish it. Massage, beauty treatment, the likes."
"That's… Honestly, I'm surprised they're being that good about it."
Better to lose out on him now and maybe draw him back later. He was sure they had that in mind, or just the fact the world was watching and they didn't want to come across callous. It was all self-serving at the end of the day, but that didn't mean he couldn't benefit. Or that he shouldn't recognise the gesture for what it was.
"Tell them I'll do limited healing."
"Are you sure? You don't have to."
"They deserve something for pulling out all the stops like this." And maybe it wouldn't feel so bad if he was doing it for his own reasons. "I'm not talking about draining my aura. Maybe ten people a day? Less, but enough to show I respect their efforts."
"I'll discuss it with the Arc-Ops," said Ironwood. "I'm sure Mistral will appreciate the gesture but you shouldn't suffer for their sake. Let's get to Amity for now."
/-/
He wasn't surprised that they were met at Amity by members of Mistral Council. It was almost a guarantee they'd come and make sure their investment in having him here wasn't about to bite them in the behinds. Jaune smiled and shook hands and thanked them for the repeated offers of all-expenses paid trips to their favourite spas, and then reiterated his offer to continue with limited healing in the hospitals, which they looked genuinely surprised – and a little relieved – about.
"I want to make it clear to everyone it's not Mistral who caused this." His words were picked up by reporters that the Council had brought with them, which he was sure were very pro-Mistral and would spread this message accurately. "You've all been so incredibly understanding in offering me time off and space to recover, and I don't want anyone thinking it was coming here that was the final nail in the coffin. This has been going on a long time."
That might not please Atlas' Council, and Councilman Sleet looked a little awkward at that being said. He didn't comment on it though. The Mistral Council, on the other hand, were quick to accept his offer and shake his hand and thank him for agreeing to use his Semblance in a reduced format. Like Ironwood, they also assured him that if he felt tired or wanted to stop at any time, that he should, and that they would handle any fallout.
"Thank you," said Jaune. "General Ironwood and Atlas are going to help me more when I get home as well. To be fair, they've always offered their help but I was too stubborn to take it before. It's mostly the public who are piling the pressure on."
The peace offering was quickly taken by Sleet, who strode forward with a professional smile.
"We're all glad to hear that. Believe me, you don't get as far as we have in politics without knowing what it's like to have a target painted on your back." The other politicians from Mistral agreed with laughter and the bobbing of heads. "Let's not make the young man any more awkward, however. We should let him have his fun with the festival."
The councilmembers of Mistral were quick to agree and file into the VIP area. As they did, he was surprised to see they'd left a familiar face behind. Pyrrha, as their own VIP, stood in the corridor across from him, watching him with naked concern while biting her bottom lip. She hesitated, looking to Elm to see if she would even be allowed to talk to him. To his own surprise, Elm smiled and backed away.
"Are you okay?" whispered Pyrrha, as she came near.
"I'm fine. Didn't you hear me?"
"I'm not asking as a government body. I'm…" Her eyes looked him up and down, as if to check he wasn't injured, and her voice dipped lower. "I'm asking as a friend. Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm nervous," he admitted with a little shrug. "I feel better getting it out and having people know, but I've got no idea how everyone is going to take it. Thanks for the card by the way. And for the jellies. They were good."
Pyrrha smiled. "I asked your sisters what kinds of things you like."
That probably hadn't taken her much in the way of time or effort, but it still showed she cared enough that she'd asked in the first place. He wasn't sure what to make of it, other than to think that maybe she really did see him as a friend. It was an oddly relaxing feeling, to have that extra bit of proof. "Thank you again. It meant a lot."
"Ah. Well…" Pyrrha looked away, flushing cutely. He got the feeling she wasn't used to compliments like that. Like him, she probably got more compliments about what she was famous for. Those likely rang as shallow for her as his own did for him. "I was terrified when you went down. I thought it might have been my fault. Then when I heard your interview…" She bit her lip. "This is going to sound bad."
"What is?"
"I… I kind of felt the same way. Not the exact same!" she hurried to say. "I'm not trying to steal your thunder or-"
Jaune laughed. "Having issues like that isn't a rosette, Pyrrha. I also know I'm not the only person in the world who suffers from them. It's fine. Honestly, I would totally understand you feeling the same way. We're facing the same shit."
"Yes. We are." Pyrrha smiled gratefully, though she too looked exhausted. "Already, I've had people asking me what I think of your interview or asking if there were any signs or if I felt I could have done more."
"That's ridiculous. This isn't your fault."
"I know." An exasperated smile, and a shrug of one shoulder. "But it's what they're like, isn't it? There are some who will say I should have seen the signs because I'm closer to you, even though you have millions watching your every move and they didn't."
"Fame sucks."
"It does," agreed Pyrrha. "Though a part of me is realising it's the attention that sucks. If they'd just stop watching our every moves and reading into them and let us live our lives, it wouldn't be so bad."
"Ironwood thinks it's jealousy."
"It probably is. I used to have friends on the circuit who didn't like all the attention I was getting. They said I should have shared it." She smiled bitterly. "As if I wouldn't have if I could. Then there are some famous people who like the attention and seek it out. I guess they don't help matters." Pyrrha hesitated, and then said, "I've asked my agents to find a therapist for me. Not that I'm about to break, but I want to have someone I can talk and vent to."
"That's great."
Honestly, his own situation felt so bad that he'd take genuine pleasure in knowing he'd helped someone out their own problems by opening up. And there was a good chance he had. It always seemed stupid that when a celebrity spoke up about being screened for cancer or going in for checks, that suddenly there would be an uptick in people doing so. Doctors, charities and medical professionals were always calling for people to do that, and paying for adverts on TV to inform you, and yet no one cared. Then some pop star came out with a story about it, and suddenly everyone was going to the doctors while hailing said person as a champion of health.
It was stupid. Why trust the medical opinion of a celebrity over a doctor? It made no sense. Still, if his interview did convince a few people to open up about their problems and seek help, then that was a nice thing to consider. Even if he didn't think it should be that way.
"Would it be okay if we kept in touch as well?" asked Pyrrha. "After the festival, I mean. I… I know it may seem strange, but it feels like you're the first person who's understood me in such a long time." She was blushing now, and not meeting his eyes. "That must sound stupid, but all the friends I used to have either left me or started trying to use me and-"
Jaune already had his scroll out. "Here. Put your number in."
Pyrrha did so, surprised, and then Jaune quickly sent her a message with a smiley face so she'd have his number. Her eyes watered, and she lunged forward to hug him quickly before letting go and jumping back. "S-Sorry. I just… I'm glad you're my friend. I'm glad I have a friend who I can maybe talk to about this."
"You vent to me and I'll vent to you. Okay?"
"Yes!" Pyrrha laughed happily. It was a lovely sound. "We can complain to each other."
Elm finally came up and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry to interrupt your little moment, but we really do need to get moving." She smiled at Pyrrha, and added, "You're coming with us, right? To the VIP boxes."
"Y-Yes, Miss Ederne."
"You're cute. Call me Elm."
Pyrrha floundered and blushed, and Jaune laughed, much more used to Elm's personality and mannerisms. They made their way up to the VIP boxes together, and Jaune felt his stomach flip a little at what was to come. He'd dealt with Ironwood; he knew his parents and sisters had his back; he'd calmed down both Councils, and Pyrrha had sought him out and offered her support. There was jut one person left, and someone who might potentially be the most important.
Jaune stepped through the doors and quickly spotted the Schnee family. And they spotted him. Weiss came rushing over, and he held his breath.
"Jaune, that was incredible!"
He almost stumbled back as Weiss flung herself into his arms. A weight settled in his throat, almost threatening to overtake him for a moment. He hadn't been sure what her reaction would be to his interview. A part of him had thought she would hold it against him or treat him differently. Jaune closed his hands around her and hugged her back, overwhelmed with relief and something much rawer.
"Y-You're okay with it?"
"Am I okay?" Weiss looked up at him and laughed delightedly. He loved the musical nature of it. "I loved it. It was a masterstroke."
A masterstroke?
He didn't think it was that good.
"Yeah?"
"Yes. You totally threw the blame back in the faces of those who had been criticising you, and you made it clear why they're at fault." Her voice dropped. "I'm a little iffy on claiming depression and anxiety, but if you think it best then I'll trust you on it."
Claiming…?
Did… Did Weiss think he hadn't been serious?
The nerves returned. "Weiss, I… I was serious. That is how I feel. It wasn't a lie."
"Oh." Weiss paused and looked down at his chest. Her eyes were wide, like someone who had just congratulated a woman for being pregnant and been told they weren't expecting. It was the look of someone who knew that had just swallowed their own foot and didn't know what to say about it. "Oh, I…" She swallowed. "I'm… here for you?"
He forced a smile. "Thank you, Weiss. That means a lot."
Awkward.
That was the only way to describe it.
Did she really think I'd invoke serious illness as some kind of ruse to trick people? Jaune couldn't keep his thoughts swirling as he walked to his seat. Weiss took the one on his right, holding his hand, but she wouldn't look at him. He really didn't know what to say. Or what to think.
He was glad, therefore, when the fights began and he didn't have to.
Losing himself to the one-on-one bouts taking place down below was a blessing. They weren't interesting, not now, but they were striking enough to serve as a distraction, and he could applaud with everyone else in the box at the right moments. Weiss didn't take his hand back after the first applause, and he didn't reach for it. He wasn't sure if that was because of the atmosphere or not, but he kept his focus on what was happening down below.
To his relief, the tournament continued to call the matches well before anyone's aura was low enough to lead to real damage. One of the competitors would often limp off, looking exhausted, but it was pulled and torn muscles at worst, and oftentimes not even that.
The ring-outs were often when people had plenty of aura left, and the competitors shook hands after without fail. It was good to know he wouldn't be called on to show himself when everyone was already paying full attention to what was going on.
He didn't even notice when Weiss stood and mumbled an excuse, then left her seat and made for the door.
/-/
Weiss took the first chance available to excuse herself to the restroom. No one questioned her, nor made to stop her as she walked smartly and primly out the VIP boxes and down the corridor, head held high. There, she covered her face with her hands and muffled an agonised scream into the row of sinks.
In all truth, she'd have liked to scream louder.
Idiot. Moron. Fool. The insults came thick and fast, and she wasn't used to aiming so many of them at herself. How had she messed up so badly? How had she misread the situation so much? He might as well have told her she'd killed his dog for all it made her feel. Weiss pressed her face down between the sinks, against the counter, and gripped the porcelain as tight as she could.
How had she made such a glaring mistake?
Father would have her head. He'd be right to. Weiss had given up over the past few months of ever really having his love. He'd seemed to come back when she started dating Jaune, but it quickly became clear he was just interested in the possibility of tying the Arc and Schnee families together. Nowadays, he was more excited about serving on the council than dealing with her or Whitley. Even the business had taken a backseat, left to the Board of Directors to handle.
That didn't mean she wanted to end her relationship with Jaune. Of course not. It also didn't mean she wanted him to break up with her, which he'd be well within his rights to after what she'd said. I need to apologise, thought Weiss. And I need to do it properly. Something big, something impressive, something expensive. Here in Mistral? She thought it might be better at home in Atlas, but she didn't want to ignore the issue until then.
And what of the issue?
Jaune – her boyfriend – was suffering from… from what, exactly? Depression, anxiety, low spirits. General unhappiness, really. That bothered her. How could he feel that way when he was dating her? Was he saying she wasn't good enough? Was he saying he wasn't happy with her? If not, then why hadn't he come to her and told her this himself? Why keep it a secret and blow it out to the whole world before her?
Does he not trust me? Is that it?
Obviously, she felt him. Obviously. But at the same time, he should have communicated this to her first. They were a couple – they were dating. It might one day be taken further, to marriage, and he should be open to her first and foremost. Maybe they could have fixed this. Maybe she could have helped him. Instead, he'd gone and told the world, and there were probably people wondering how his own girlfriend hadn't realised. Hell, she was wondering that herself! This was going to make her look like a fool at best, and a cold-hearted witch at worst.
"He should have been open with me," whispered Weiss, to her own reflection. "There's no good reason why he didn't come to me first. I would have helped him. I would have! He needs to trust me."
It went further than his feelings, and hers, and reflected on their relationship as a whole. They had to be partners – they had to be. Anything less, and she'd end up the trophy wife like her mother was to her father, and that wasn't about to happen. Jaune needed to know she was his partner in all things, which meant the good and the bad times. That he'd failed to come to her this time…
Well, it was a simple mistake. It would be cruel to fault him.
I'll comfort him and help him get recover, and then tell him when he's in a better state of mind that he should come to me first next time. Yes, that makes sense.
Be a good partner, help him, and then worry about her problems. She wasn't callous or reckless enough to confront him now when he had already stated to being in a terrible state of mind. He'd react poorly, and she would look the heel for confronting him. Besides, this kind of conversation was one best had in private.
Still, it was hard to reconcile the vulnerable and suffering boy with the proud and heroic ideal she had for him. Not that it wasn't possible that strong people also dealt with their own problems, but she felt those should be in private and behind closed doors. Not out in the open where every idiot on Remnant could throw in their opinion.
He's been raised in a different world, thought Weiss. I need to remember that. Jaune was not born into and trained to handle the attention like I've been.
The realisation calmed her somewhat, because it meant the fault wasn't with her, but with him. Or rather, with his lack of knowledge and training. That wasn't his fault. You couldn't blame someone for not knowing how to handle something they had never been prepared for. It was, however, something she could help him improve on.
"Yes. I'll help him. Teach him. He has to learn sooner or later – he's going to be this famous his whole life, and he has no idea how to handle it." That was something she ought to have realised sooner, but better late than never. "Rather than worry about how this looks, I should focus more on teaching him to be better."
Stronger, more resilient, more capable. Proud. She would help him grow into the man she knew he could be – the man she knew he wanted to be – which would stand tall and proud and strong beside her.
The two of them would then reform the SDC, change the world, and who knows – maybe they would even enter politics one day, and change Atlas for the better. It wasn't such a wild idea now that her father had opened the door onto the Atlas Council. As much as she hated to take advantage of his work, she would do so if it meant fulfilling her dreams.
And Jaune's, obviously. It wouldn't be much of a partnership otherwise.
Weiss felt better now that she knew this wasn't her fault. The blame didn't lay at her feet, and had Jaune told her the truth, then she absolutely could have helped him get over these problems. In a sense, it was his fault, though not in any malicious way. Weiss took a deep breath and let it go, happier now that she had collected her thoughts and dealt with the issue.
I'll go back and be supporting for now, but make sure he knows I want him to come to my next time he feels down so I can help him. I won't push anything else yet. We can deal with that back in Atlas.
Pushing off the sinks, she took a deep breath and made for the door, just as it opened and a young woman in the black and white serving uniform of the stadium's staff pushed in. She looked hurried, no doubt busy, and her long black hair was a little unkempt. Weiss was surprised because she was sure the staff would have their own worker's restrooms, not that she cared too much for their use of a public one.
The girl froze as she turned and saw Weiss. Golden eyes, Weiss noted.
"Schnee…"
Weiss crossed her arms, unimpressed by the tone. She looked up and, sure enough, animal ears. That explained the immediate reaction. Weiss was used to being hated by faunus on principle at this point. "Yes? Is there a problem?"
The door opened again, and another entered. "Blake, we don't have the time-"
"Adam, no!" hissed the girl, panicking.
"Excuse me!" snapped Weiss. "This is the women's restroom. You cannot just come in here and-" The man tuned, and Weiss saw his face. And the mask. Her words caught in her throat, along with a gasp of air.
A hundred different thoughts flashed through her head.
Myrtenaster had been left at their hotel room.
The man saw her. His eyes, visible through his mask, seemed to light up, and his lips curled into a hungry snarl. "Schnee!" With a hiss, his sword swung free, arching toward her. "DIE!"
Weiss screamed a second before her lifeblood splashed across the mirrors.
/-/
Jaune heard the scream.
Everyone must have.
Heads snapped back, and several people were already standing. The Atlesian soldiers, however, were moving – as was one other, Miss Goodwitch from Beacon Academy. They were at the door before Jaune even pieced together who it must have been, standing with a panicked cry of "Weiss!"
It was that which clued in Jacques Schnee, who swore angrily and leapt from his seat to race around and past his wife, then rush for the door. He was halted by Harriet Bree, who ushered him back. "Please stay back, sir. The situation is not yet clear."
Because Harriet had him, Jaune was able to slip by, though not past Elm, who caught him with a heavy arm against his stomach and swept him up off the floor. "Elm!" cried Jaune. "That's Weiss. She-"
"She has all the help in the world right now. Wait until it's clear!"
Ironwood and Goodwitch and the rest of the Arc-Ops were already out the doors and away. Jaune heard shouting, gunshots, and then a massive boom that shook the stadium. It was over sooner than he thought possible, and then he heard Ironwood shouting his name. He sounded panicked. "Get Jaune here now! Hurry!"
Elm carried him out just as the rest of the VIP Box had begun to panic. The tournament was still taking place outside, so it was likely no one else had realised. He heard Ozpin, the headmaster of Beacon, calling for calm, and Clover hurried back into the VIP box as Elm squeezed by, shouting; "the situation has been resolved, but please stay calm and watch the tournament. You're in no danger. I repeat, the situation has been resolved."
Outside, it didn't look that way. Jaune was carried into a corridor that was partially destroyed. The roof had been brought down a short distance away by some kind of explosive or blast, and General Ironwood was talking into a communication device. "Red hair, black suit, bull horns. Lock every exit, corner him. He is armed and dangerous, with a powerful Semblance. Do not divert him toward the civilian stands."
Vine was on one the ground a little further up. He had his knee on the back of someone in a black and white servers' uniform, and he was pinning them to the ground. They were sobbing quietly, a girl by the sounds of it.
"W-Where's Weiss?" asked Jaune, stammering.
Ironwood saw him and ended the call. He clamped his hands on Jaune's shoulders. "Jaune, please. Listen and stay calm. Nothing has happened that can't be fixed."
His heart lurched. Can't be fixed now that he was here? Oh god. "Weiss," he rasped. "Take me to her now!"
They didn't. Instead, Ironwood held onto Jaune as Elm pushed into the room and then carried Weiss out to him, with Ironwood quietly telling him it was "better this way" and that he "didn't want to see inside."
It wasn't hard to understand why, as Weiss' beautiful white dress was stained red with blood, and there must have been so much more in the restroom. Jaune was shaking even before she was brought down, Elm kneeling to balance Weiss so she was sitting up. He was shaking, even though he knew he could fix this. Knowing that didn't change the fact he was looking at her dead body.
He didn't wait for their instruction, and instead rushed over, knelt and placed his hands on her. She'd been cut across her throat, her slender neck all but torn open, and her hair was plastered bloodily across her face like she'd been flicked around by the attack and landed on her front. The blood on her clothes suggested as much, as it must have pooled under her. Jaune closed his eyes and activated his Semblance, forcing it out and over her with as much power as he could.
Fix her. Please fix her. Don't let my last moments with her be some stupid argument.
His Semblance answered, as it always did, and filled the hallway with white light. The wound on her neck closed, and although the blood all over her didn't go away, he knew from numerous doctors having looked over his patients that any of it that had been previously lost would be put back inside her, practically created anew by means no one truly understood.
Weiss twitched, went rigid, opened her eyes and screamed a second time.
"Weiss!" He batted her hands aside when she flailed at him, desperately fighting him off as she must have tried her attackers. The blows were wild and weak, slapping against his face and arms. "Weiss, it's me! It's me!"
Eventually, reality slipped in, and Weiss stilled, though she didn't stop shaking.
"J-Jaune…?"
"It's me. You're alive."
"Alive, then-? I…" Weiss looked down herself, at all the blood, and let out a hysterical little laugh. "I… died. He killed me." Her eyes widened suddenly, and she grasped Elm's arm. "White Fang! There are White Fang-"
"It's being handled," said General Ironwood. "We've captured one. The other is being pursued. He won't get far." He looked over them, at Elm. "Find them somewhere to recover away from the VIP boxes. Someone find Miss Schnee a clean dress and a towel. Glynda, can you keep the two of them company? I need to inform Jacques and the others what has happened before things get much worse."
The huntress nodded. "Of course. No one will get past me."
Weiss clung to Jaune as he helped her up, still shaking, tears in her eyes. He wrapped one arm around her waist and took her shivering hand in his other and guided her slowly down the corridor with Elm ahead and Glynda Goodwitch behind. This is my fault, thought Jaune, lip caught between his teeth. They were after me and they hurt Weiss. Killed her.
He hoped the White Fang burned for this.
Yes, Adam cut through Weiss' aura. I mean, he did the same to both Yang and Sienna, so I'm relying on the same logic the show did for that. Call it an inability to react in time, shock, or overpowering force. I don't know which the show is saying.
And Blake has been captured. Butterflies.
Gasp, is this where the Blake x Jaune pairing begins? She helped kill his girlfriend, and from this the torrid romance starts. Lol, no. Not quite.
Next Chapter: 24th November
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