Without further ado...
Chapter 8
Jaune's pretty sure interacting with one's soulmate is supposed to be a happy thing.
On his way to her room, he should be bringing flowers, and when he arrives, he should be flirting, and laughing freely, because finally, after searching for what feels like – and, reasonably, might as well be summed up as – his entire life, he's found her.
But no. Nothing can be that simple, it seems.
He's escorted to the operating room-turned-cell housing Cinder by a team of Atlas soldiers, all scowling his way like what they've been reduced to, essentially guarding a conjugal visit to the most wanted woman in the world, is some heinous offense.
And perhaps it is, if Jaune's being objective.
But he's never really been much for objectivity, so subjectively, the way they glare at him like this is all his fault somehow is really annoying the crap out of him.
"Hey! Stop glaring at our fearless leader!"
A few of the soldiers grumble as the pint-sized huntress frown's up at them – in this way that seems to suggest that she's both mad and disappointed – but they rather wisely don't escalate things, on account of Nora easily having the ability to punt the lot of them into the stratosphere.
And if the guards see him smirking at that, and get more annoyed precisely because they can't do anything about it? Well, that seems like a them problem, doesn't it?
Eventually, the guards drop the three of them – Ren's here too, his friend just doesn't really do anything worth mentally describing – off in front of the room, and as one of them, probably the highest rank, inputs the code, puts his finger on the thumbpad, and then turns a key – he probably says a magic spell while he's at it – the door opens.
Jaune takes a deep breath, not even really sure why. He's been here before. This isn't at all the first time, and yet…
Having his teammates present is making things easier…
But it will inevitably lead to some rather difficult conversations down the line.
Given that the person who's in the room awaiting them is both the reason that Pyrrha can't be here with them, stuck in a hospital bed for the time being until they can find some crutches for her – and with a good ten or so thousand injured within Vale, crutches are a bit hard to come by at the moment – and…
Well, she's also Jaune's soulmate.
So that'll be a fun discussion.
For now, though, well…
Jaune supposes there's nothing more he can do but enter.
He's stricken immediately upon stepping into the sterile space of his soulmates prison with the almost unbelievable fact that all of what'd occurred some days ago had not in fact been a dream. It'd really happened. He'd really, actually met his soulmate.
…She'd really, actually killed several hundred – thousand – people; brought the Kingdom of Vale to its knees.
Jaune's still not sure what he's supposed to think about that, and the fact that everyone around him expects him to have an answer doesn't really feel all that fair.
…And he finally notices Cinder looking at him what feels like too late for him to have noticed, and now he's caught off guard, so he feels like he should just say something, anything!
"Uhm… hey."
Jaune honestly wishes he would just drop dead sometimes.
"Sorry, that was… uh…"
"Hiya!" Nora exclaims all of a sudden, walking right up to Cinder in a way that has Jaune wincing. "I'm Nora, Jaune's teammate! I hear you're his soulmate, right?"
Cinder doesn't say anything – not that that's much of a surprise, given the whole can't-speak thing – but from her facial expression alone, Jaune can tell she's currently contemplating closing her eyes, and pretending to fall asleep.
…That or murder, but he's really trying not to think about that at the moment, so he's going to go with the first thought.
"Uhm… Cinder can't speak at present." He decides to interject and save them all some trouble. "Her vocal chords were damaged when… well, when she was injured."
"Huh, gotcha."
"So, her name is Cinder, then?"
It's almost shocking to Jaune that Ren has said anything at all. He turns to look at the boy and finds a rather unexpected look upon his surrogate brother's face. It's…
It's a cold sort of fury, and Jaune can feel his stomach falling immediately.
"Y-Yeah."
"Convenient that you have lost your ability to speak." Ren says, and Jaune once more feels like his chest is doing loops. "At the exact time when it would benefit you most to have such an excuse."
"H-Hey, Rennie," Nora walks over to her 'friend', placing her hand on his shoulder. "This is Jaune's soulmate! We should try and be nice!"
Ren opens his mouth, looking like he wants to say something more, but shuts it a second later, letting out a tired sort of sigh.
"Yes. I suppose we should."
Jaune tries to pretend like the tension that Ren's added to the room in any way dissipates as the man lets his posture relax somewhat, but it really doesn't. It's all he can do, then, to clear his throat, and turn back towards his soulmate, who's looking at the three of them with a complicated expression on her face.
Jaune can't read it, but then again, he's never been all that adept at reading people in the first place, so perhaps that's no surprise.
"So, uh…"
Jaune has nothing.
He really, genuinely has no idea what the hell he's supposed to say here.
Because what can he say?
Cinder's awake, but she can't talk back to him. And even if she could, would she really even want to? The answer of probably not strikes him as realistic, even if it hurts him.
Because Cinder's at least in her early twenties, perhaps twenty-two or twenty-three. What could she possibly want to talk about with him. She's probably… well, Jaune doesn't really know.
He once again does everything in his power to run away from the fact that Cinder is also a terrorist, one who's murdered a good thousand people. The first official statistics had come out yesterday, and even though Jaune had tried to resist looking, some morbid sense of self-loathing had forced him to look at the reports, to see that five hundred and sixteen people have been killed, and that a good two thousand or so are still missing.
Which means a good majority of them are dead, too.
Cinder, the pained person on the other side of his soul, had done that. She'd…
Jaune bites at his lip, letting out a shaky breath.
Gods, he's lucky to have Nora, who has apparently been filling the dead air with her trademark nonsensical ramblings, which are for once completely appreciated. At the very least, it's kept Ren from saying anything more.
His friends behavior… he knows he can't really judge him for it. How can he, really? If Cinder hadn't been that tortured soul on the other end of the link… he's pretty sure he'd have hated her abjectly. Because of course he would've. She's a murderer, a terrorist, someone who's done nothing but wrong in her life.
Knowing how hard it had been for her, though… knowing that she'd been given nothing but hate from minute one, and that no one had ever loved her… well… for Jaune, at least, it's harder to accept such an easy conclusion. That Cinder's just evil.
The way her first instinct when she'd finally noticed Qrow had been to shield him against her, to protect him…
Well, forgive Jaune for perhaps taking some small solace in that.
"Uhm, Nora?" Jaune says, even so. "Since Cinder can't exactly say anything back… we probably don't want to overwhelm her?"
Nora seems to pick up on his hint, making a small 'oh' noise, and nodding her head. "Right!"
"Yes. I'm sure she's quite helpless."
It shouldn't be so much. It's just a small needle, but…
Jaune's attempt at a happy expression, feigned as it is, dies immediately, and it's all he can do to hold back his sigh as he looks back over at Ren, who's avoiding looking at any of them.
Once again, despite that some part of him wants to be mad, he can't really blame Ren for his reaction.
Still… even with that being said, Jaune wants them all to get along. It's a naïve dream, really, and he knows it, but…
He wants his teammates, practically his family, to meet his soulmate. To meet that little spark on the end of the wire in his heart.
He should've known that just like everything else about their connection, the only real constant is the pain.
"I suppose I should thank you." Ren says, and this time he doesn't hide the vitriol at all, despite the positive words. "That you saw fit only to cripple and maim our final teammate, instead of killing her outright like you sought to with the rest of Vale's people."
Jaune sucks in a breath, and he's going to rebuke his friend, a practical member of his family, but Nora is faster.
"Rennie!" She says, and she's on her soulmate, taking him by the wrist and pulling him aside, saying something into his ear that Jaune himself isn't privy to, before she turns back around, offering a weak smile. "I'm sorry, Cindy, Ren's, uhm…"
Jaune wants his teammates to meet his soulmate.
But Jaune's wanted an awful lot of things regarding Cinder.
Perhaps it's best he give up on them?
"Nora," He says, grabbing the girl's attention. "Could you and Ren maybe… uhm…"
Nora seems to get the idea, and she nods her head. "Yeah. We'll uh… we'll head out."
Jaune understands that he'll probably have to talk to Ren later, to try and… he doesn't even know, make him forgive the woman responsible for destroying Vale, because secretly, deep down, she's a damaged person, and someone who's not doing this because she really wants to, but because she thinks, in some hopeless way, that it's all she can do?
It doesn't even sound good in his head, which isn't much of a good sign.
Jaune realizes that silence has reigned over the room for a bit too long as he turns to look at his soulmate. She's not looking back at him, just staring down into the sheets pulled up to her waist.
Jaune's not really sure why his eyes are drawn to her silky hair, her delicate skin, even past the horrid burns and the missing eye, and arm, but it's the tiny beauties about her that make him want to smile.
Of course, then the world comes crashing back down around him, and he remembers just where he is, with just who she is.
It never quite fails to take the wind out of his sails.
He pulls up a stool to sit just beside Cinder's bed. She's going to be stuck there for the foreseeable future, still too injured to really move around, though Jaune doesn't believe that she can't still seriously hurt someone… or worse, if she tries.
She hasn't. And for that, Jaune's incredibly grateful.
Once more, he's pretty sure he should say something.
"I'm sorry about Ren," Jaune murmurs. "He's not usually… uhm…"
Cinder just shakes her head, and there's a deadened sort of look in her single remaining eye that Jaune hates the look of, the way it dulls the otherwise sunset amber hue of her irises.
Idly, Jaune finds himself wishing he could see Cinder smile one day. Not a feigned one he might get by asking, but a natural, real smile. One filled not with the anger and desolation she feels towards the world, but…
His mind is drawn back to the 'conversation' they'd been having, and he continues from where he'd left off.
"Well… he shouldn't talk to you that way. It's the same as Qrow. I'm not… I don't want to let them just badmouth you."
Again, Cinder shakes his head, and then, with a horrible rasp to it, she says her first words since he's seen her. They come out mangled, barely audible but for the complete silence of the space, and yet, Jaune can understand them.
"…deserve it."
Jaune's teeth grind together.
"…You…"
Because what's he supposed to say? What he wants to say, that she doesn't deserve it? Jaune will admit that he's hardly an objective party in this matter, but even he can admit that perhaps…
Perhaps the woman does deserve Ren's ire. Hell, more people's than just Ren's.
And here's Jaune, just…
"Even so…" He says, trying to breath past the thick miasma that seems to be coating his lungs of late, making every word feel like pulling teeth. "Even so, I… I don't want Ren to be rude to you. I don't want anyone to be. That's just not…"
Cinder's just looking at him. It's this… this tiny disbelief behind her eyes that gets to jaune. In the way that she can't quite understand what he's saying, or, no, it's not quite that. It's more that she can't understand why he would still direct such things at her, after everything.
And Jaune… well, the two of them are alone, aren't they?
He might as well explain.
"…You know, the first time I felt the shocks, I was barely five."
Cinder's eyes widen, and Jaune can tell in that moment that this isn't a conversation that the woman in front of him had thought they'd be having right now. Still, Jaune feels it's important. And so, he'll keep going.
"I… I didn't really understand it back then. The way that everyone would look at me and feel bad for me. They looked at me with this weird sort of pity in their eyes. I think… I think they felt sorry. And I could get that…" Jaune says, rubbing at the back of his neck. "But not for who they felt sorry for. Because… because they didn't feel sorry for the person really experiencing that pain. They didn't… they didn't think at all about you. They just worried about little Jaune, who had his family, and his sisters, and who was being coddled by everyone around him, and…"
His voice trails off, and it gives him time enough to consider what he wants to say next, which is good, probably, since he's been rambling pretty aimlessly so far.
"The world isn't fair. I think I learned that lesson a lot earlier than most, but…" Jaune leans forward on the stool almost subconsciously. "I think you probably had to learn it a fair bit earlier even than I did."
Cinder doesn't say anything. Doesn't make to say anything. She's just looking at him with that same somber disbelief, and it's all Jaune can do to want to reach over and take her hand, just to offer her some degree of the warmth she's been denied all her life…
Except her left arm is gone. Quite literally melted away.
So, he just sits as close as he can, and tries to offer some vague comfort through proximity.
"…I care about you."
It's a sudden thing that he's not really sure of even while he's saying it, but it's the unvarnished truth, so Jaune supposes it has a place. He watches as the woman before him reacts subtly, her brow drawing together in an almost melancholic way.
"…don't."
The word is so faint, so quiet, that Jaune's fairly sure it's only his imagination that Cinder speaks it. And yet, he finds himself tracing the woman's lips, the way that they've parted ever so subtly, and he realizes what she's just said, the meaning of those accursed words.
"I'm… not…" She seems to try and speak more, but her throat produces no sound, no further noise, and it breaks Jaune's heart in two to see her struggle so vividly, so obviously, and not be able to help. He places his semblance upon her, to try and do something, anything, but with the woman already on full aura, it's like trying to fill a bottle of water with more water.
His simply spills out the top. Wasted away.
He cannot make her heal faster. Her ability to recover her voice, her faculties… it's all on her end now.
"I want to care about you."
"I want to care about you."
What an unfair thing to say, Cinder can't help thinking.
She doesn't really… she finds she cannot much think on what it is she wants to say back to that. Of course, she finds her own feelings mirroring her lights. The boy across from her has likely no idea the depths at which her affections lie.
And yet, is it fair?
Because Cinder understands something she's not sure her little light – Jaune, she keeps reminding herself, his name is Jaune – has parsed yet.
That if they weren't soulmates, if they did not share the connection they do, would he want anything to do with her? Perhaps the question is, at its heart, an unfair one itself, much like the boy's original statement. But…
But it haunts Cinder, nonetheless. She's almost glad she can't speak, because at least this way it's only she who has to contend with this darkness hanging about her. Cinder is quite adept at dealing with such things now, at this point in her life. Quite adept at handling the darkness within her, seething and clawing.
It is almost all of her, now. Almost all of her is darkness, aside from the little light inside of her, that which has managed to keep her grounded, keep her…
Keep her thinking about others, oddly enough. It had, ultimately, been what had made her more tolerant of Roman and Neo, neither of whose fates she knows of. If they'd been smart, they'd likely exited out of the city the moment they'd finished playing their parts. To do otherwise would've been tantamount to suicide, and sniveling rat he may've been, but Cinder had never once been able to doubt Torchwick's sense of survival.
It's almost ironic that only after losing the ability to speak does Cinder find herself having so much to say, but perhaps that's simply the way the world is. One never really appreciates what they have until it's taken away from them.
Vale has learned that much the same as she has.
…Such thoughts might've brought a cruel chuckle once upon a time, and yet…
That Ren boy… Cinder cannot deny anything he's said. That shouldn't mean anything. Of course, she can't deny it. She'd been the one who organized the attack, who'd knowingly sacrificed thousands of lives for her plan.
Why does it hurt so much to have that fact thrust into her face, then?
Why is the only thing she can comprehend when she thinks of her plans that burning regret within her chest, the same feeling that'd somehow eclipsed the near blinding pain of that silver expanse?
Cinder finds herself longing to just sit still for a little while, and she supposes she's gotten her wish, in a manner of speaking.
Even if, really, it's not at all what she'd hoped.
Because her little light is here, and he's…
Just right in front of her. and trying so desperately to war against his better nature that's telling him she's a monster. Oh, he can pretend he's not, but Cinder can see it in the way he looks to her out of the corner of his eye, and then away.
And she pretends like always that it doesn't hurt her. Because nothing can hurt her, because she's Cinder Fall…
…No, she's not.
Her name has only ever been Cinder.
And things have always hurt.
"…Why did you do it?"
The question is so sudden, so utterly unexpected, that even if Cinder had had the capacity to answer, she's not sure she would've managed anything other than a shocked gasp. As things are, her single eye widens, and she looks at her little light to see regret clear as day on his face.
"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't – that wasn't an okay thing for me to ask, uhm…"
She stares right at him then, trying, maybe, to decide how she'd answer that if she'd been able to, and finds…
She tries to croak out her answer, and though it's faint, she thinks her little light can decipher it.
"…don't know."
She doesn't really. Not anymore. It had all made such sense a week ago, when she'd fired that arrow into Amber's chest, when she'd stolen back the Maiden's power. And now…
The moment she'd locked eyes with her little light, it'd all become so complicated.
Perhaps it always had been, and she'd simply run away from it.
Just like always.
Just like with everything else.
Without warning, the door at the back of the room gives a creak, and in steps a new figure. He's not someone Cinder recognizes, which she supposes makes sense. They've been extra careful to not allow her to see the same person twice, to not allow her to take advantage of any habits or routine they might have.
Such thoughts disappear in the next moment when the man opens his lips.
"Good day, Mr. Arc." He smiles over at her little light, and though Cinder herself can tell that the man is likely military personnel pretending to be a doctor, she's not sure her little light can make that same distinction. "How is our patient?"
"Huh?" Jaune seems caught a bit off guard, and Cinder internally winces. "Uhm… she's alright, I guess. She seems to be feeling a bit better, so that's good."
"That's quite good indeed." The man says without any real warmth. "Has she begun to speak at all? Any signs that her voice might return soon?"
Oh, there had been some, alright. Mostly that Cinder had been able to, through likely sheer stubbornness, force a few words out of her tortured vocal chords. Unfortunately for her, if those responsible for interrogating her know that she might be able to answer questions, well…
"She can't speak."
Cinder, through years of training, manages to halt herself from reacting to her little light's words, even as he continues speaking. "I mean, she tries every once in a while, but she hasn't been able to say anything. Just kind of sounds like raspy breathing, the same as a few days ago."
The military doctor hums noncommittally, but Cinder can tell he's disappointed. Likely, he wants to move on with their interrogation of her as soon as possible, so that they can track down any resources connected to Salem before the woman has time to move them all.
Unfortunately for them, Cinder knows that Salem's long since moved by now. The moment that Beacon had fallen, and Cinder hadn't instantly gotten back in touch with her, she'd have begun to shift the playing field to something unrecognizable to Cinder. Just in case she'd been compromised. Just in case she'd been captured and could be used against her.
She hadn't lived tens of thousands of years without growing a tad bit crafty, it seems. Or perhaps paranoid is the word.
"I see. Well, we'll wish for a speedy recovery for you, Ms. Fall."
Ms. Fall.
What a lie. In every way. In that the man has no respect for her, all of it feigned to try and fool her little light. In that Fall is not even her name, merely a title Salem had chosen for her.
In that she no longer even feels like that person. The person she'd had to become when Cinder, the little girl in the supply closet, who'd dreamed of better, more innocent things, hadn't been enough. When she'd been too weak.
And now she's her again.
Too late. Much, much too late.
The doctor steps out of the space, leaving only herself and her little light once more, and for a moment, Cinder thinks he might say something. However, she's almost grateful that he doesn't, merely nodding his head and staying beside her.
He's been doing that a lot the last few days. Simply coming in here and sitting down next to her. Offering his presence.
She's not sure why, but…
It's comforting. In much the same way as the tiny little warmth in her soul had been for the younger her.
Just…
Just a tiny glow amongst the black.
And then the fact of the matter hits her.
Her little light had covered for her. Told the doctor that she couldn't speak yet.
He'd lied for her.
If she'd truly possessed the ability to speak, or if she'd wanted to go broadcasting the fact that she could perhaps manage it a little, she might ask him why he'd done such a thing. But… she knows she can't. They most likely had cameras monitoring the room. That someone hadn't been watching when she'd spoken to him earlier…
Cinder wouldn't be counting on luck to aid her a second time, not when luck had forever been her enemy.
So, it's all she can do, really, to lean back on her bed, and try and take solace in the comfort of the other person in the space. To try to just… breath, and heal, like she's supposed to.
Even if she understands that the closer she gets to health, the closer she gets to the questioning. To the interrogation.
Likely, to torture, and perhaps death soon after.
But it's not like she can do anything about it now. Not here.
And so, Cinder simply lies there, until her eye grows heavy enough that she allows herself to rest.
End Chapter 8
Another week, another chapter of this. This chapter's mostly just set-up, if I'm being honest, for the next few. I'm actually writing chapter 12 right now, so I'm pretty seriously ahead of my release schedule.
In League of Legends news (I don't know why I do this, I don't think anyone in these comments watches pro league): Evil Geniuses sub out Danny for mental health reasons, which sucks, I like Danny. Still, the team might legitimately be better with Kaori. so We'll have to see.
In Europe, it seems like we've gone back to the old adage of 'everyone beats everyone and in the end Fnatic or G2 win'. Interesting.
Alright, league news done. Have a good week!
