Beta: Dark Whisper from harrypotterfanfiction

The Fall Project

War

Obsessions

Pyrrha woke early in the morning, quickly rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she sat up and yawned, blinking away the weight in her eyelids. She took a quick peek at the clock on her nightstand, noted that she was only ten minutes ahead of schedule, and pulled the covers aside. The cold air seemed to pierce through her bare arms and legs, sending a shiver up and down her spine. Pants might not be such a bad idea this time of year, rather than the mid-thigh shorts she usually wears.

It may be the cold season, but usually Dust was used to keep ventilation at a comfortable temperature, especially at the academies. Weiss had mentioned something about a Dust shortage in Mistral, but it couldn't be that bad so soon. They were supposed to have large stores saved up, especially considering what the council learned from the short Mistral Siege during the Great War; a colossal failure in which the city fell within a few days because of a lack of Dust supplies. No, there couldn't be a Dust shortage. Professor Lionheart would've informed the students so they might conserve their supplies. She was simply overthinking things.

She reached over to the wall and flipped the switch to illuminate the small dorm, causing both Ren and Nora to stir, whose beds sat along the opposite wall. Pyrrha sighed when she saw that Jaune's bed was once again empty. When she peered into the adjacent room, she confirmed her suspicions; the young man had fallen asleep working on his plan again, his head draped over the notes and plans he'd been so tirelessly working on.

Feeling a pang of remorse, Pyrrha placed a hand on each of his shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. "Jaune, it's time to get up." He groaned, muttering something incoherent under his breath. Pursing her lips, she lifted him up beneath his arms.

JNPR leader managed to gain his feet, slightly swaying in exhaustion before she released him. "Ugh... I was just taking a nap... Be done in a minute, Pyrrha," he groggily said, still half asleep. The dark circles under his bloodshot eyes did not go unnoticed.

"At this rate you'll be working non-stop until summer comes around. You need more rest, Jaune," the young woman suggested, gathering his mess of papers together as he groggily sauntered over to his dresser to prepare for another day in Haven Academy.

Days like this had become the norm, in which the red-headed Mistrali would wake Jaune after he spent full night of careful planning and critical thinking. Unfortunately, such work constantly cut into the day. He was often dozing off in class, learning very little in combat class, and even losing progress in their training sessions because of his lack of energy.

It hurt to see him in such misery.

As the time passed, she came to realize that in order to help him she must put her foot down and draw the line, yet struggled to figure out how to accomplish this. Eventually, she supposed, the only option would be to simply sit him down and speak to him; tell him the truth of what she thought about his ceaseless work and how it affected him, and to tell him why she felt so strongly about his safety. It merely came down to the matter of finding the right moment.

Pyrrha asked Ren and Nora to go ahead without them, and the two of them would catch up in a moment. Fortunately Ren nodded in understanding and urged his childhood friend along before she started worrying too much about them.

The young woman took a moment to study his slow, almost pained movements, before gathering her courage to speak. "Jaune, maybe you should take the day off and rest."

He reeled around as he was halfway through putting on his coat, a look of shock on his face.

"I can't just take breaks from school Pyrrha, there's way too much work to do," he concluded, slowly pulling the small chestguard over his head and tightening the straps to fit snugly with his torso.

"But you're exhausted," she argued. "You're barely staying awake in class, and I'm starting to get worried about you!"

The young man shook his head, his glazed, bloodshot eyes looking sternly into hers. The slight scrunch of his brow told her that he was irritated by her intervention, or otherwise determined to ignore her protests. "I have to do this, Pyrrha. You know that another attack is coming, and it's my job to make sure things turn out better this time. I can't just... stop. Even if I did try to take a break, I'd just end up working things up in my head."

She furrowed her brow in confusion. It sounded as though he wanted to take a break, but it was impossible for him to do so. "What makes it so difficult?"

"Because..." he hesitated, "Because in my dreams, I see how the people I care about are going to fail if they don't work together. When I'm awake, it's as if I'm getting a glimpse into the future, where their individual skills aren't going to be enough for what's coming."

"What do you 'see' coming?" she asked with uncertainty, nearly convinced that his exhaustion has taken him to the brink.

"The Grimm, Pyrrha, always the Grimm," he huffed, bracing himself on the edge of the bed with an outstretched hand when he swayed. "I always thought they were mindless beasts, but there are some that don't even come near us. They just stay far away and watch, waiting for... something. Those are the ones that worry me, that give me the feeling that they are far more intelligent than we thought."

She paused, pondering for a moment, "The older Grimm do have the ability to learn."

"Yes, exactly!" he exclaimed, "What about the ones that are hundreds of years old? What do they know? Or... are they being controlled?" his gaze seemed to stretch far off, the gears in his mind refusing to stop turning for even a moment.

Before she could say anything more, he looked back at her with a look of fierce determination in his eyes. "We need to work together as more than just teams of four. All of us should start memorizing drills and situations, fallback plans, emergencies, I-you-" He stammered as he noticed her stern, disappointed glare, "You get the idea."

Pyrrha rubbed her tired eyes, racking her brain for a way to persuade Jaune to rest his addled mind. Why it's so difficult to think clearly when she was tired?

Her eyes flashed open as a sudden realization came to her; she could finally make Jaune see reason! She bit her lip to stifle the smile growing on her lips, and thought carefully on her choice of words.

"Jaune, when people go without sleep, they lose clarity. You're stretching your mind thin, and its only a matter of time before you make a mistake.

"It's better for everyone, Jaune," she said with a hopeful look in her vivid green eyes. "We all need you to rest."

He was frozen in place, glossy eyes darting back and forth as he worked it out in his head. Slowly, his brow furrowed and Pyrrha could see that deep down, he knew she was right.

"I still need to get them together, though. I have to tell them my ideas!" he pleaded, reaching for his sweatshirt.

The red-head stepped closer and put a hand on his to stop him. "I'll take care of it, Jaune. I'll... find a time for everyone to come together, but not today. You need to rest at least one day a week, okay?"

With his eyes downcast, he sighed and nodded.

"Promise?" she asked.

"I promise," he said, giving her a weak smile. Pyrrha wrapped her arms around him, giving him a comforting hug.

"Thank you, Jaune."

Milo sighed a breath of contentment as he sat high in the branches of a tree, just low enough to shield himself from the gentle rainfall that pattered against the forest leaves. As he shifted his weight to move into a more comfortable position, he huffed in irritation, feeling the unpleasant greasiness of sweat built up beneath his clothing from a morning of hard training. He resolved to take a longer shower than normal, hating the idea of smelling bad even more than soaking himself in energy-thieving water.

He tried to explain it to Cadence once, that he can't simply 'turn the water temperature up.' Because of his semblance, whenever the liquid touched him he could quite literally feel the heat being sapped from his body. It was as if a drug was seeping into his blood, drawing out his energy and leaving him exhausted.

A rustle of the brush below interrupted his thoughts, making him raise his eyebrow as a small Beowolf carefully sniffed the air. With a silent movement of the wrist, he brandished his blade, preparing to pounce on the unsuspecting Grimm.

A brief image of a runic symbol flashed at the forefront of his mind, and an irresistible curiosity bloomed. He considered acting on it, looking around despite the fact that he knew he was alone; no one would be crazy enough to follow him so far out of the borders... Perhaps a little test would be harmless.

Silent as the night owl, Milo glided to the other side of the small circular clearing, quietly touching down on the soft ground. Quickly turning to face the Grimm, he lifted his sword and used his semblance to scratch a rune into the air; a foreign symbol that cracked and fizzled with fiery light.

The Beowolf turned and growled, menacingly baring its teeth as it charged in his direction. He focused hard on the airborne shape, bringing calming thoughts to his mind and feeling the old magic take hold. The Grimm immediately yelped as if struck, whining as it shied back several steps before losing all sense of instinct. It simply stared at the rune with a blank glare, the redness in its eyes dimmed and all aggression purged as if in a trance.

Milo stood in awe at the creature's reaction and dared to delve deeper, seeking the cause of such a phenomenon. With curiosity in his mind, he plunged into the sea of unknown energies.

It was dark, cold, and empty. He could feel thousands of eyes watching him, but saw nothing in the endless void. He was struck with fear when he felt something approach from behind. The entity's curiosity mirrored his own, quickly being overtaken by anger and irritation.

"Who might you be?"

He recoiled in fear of the woman's voice that he heard within the confines of his own mind, pulling everything back before that... thing... could question him further. His eyes came back into focus, staring once more at the rune. The inner light turned black in the blink of an eye, and shadowy darkness poured from the symbol he no longer controlled.

With an outstretched left hand he pushed the foul substance away, recoiling once again as pain shocked through his arm. He gasped at the sharp sting in his hand, clenching it into a fist and letting out a low growl to help force through the pain. Thankfully, the black rune fizzled out and disappeared before the situation could get any worse.

The beowolf snarled and leaped forward, straight into Milo's waiting sword. After wrenching the blade free, he lifted his hand to make a closer inspection of the damage. The skin was tender to the touch, swollen and red from irritation. His jaw dropped at the realization of what kind of injury he had just received.

It was a burn. He has never, ever been burned before.

A loud, sudden snap of a twig made him whirl around, barely catching a silhouette retreating deeper into the woods. Cursing under his breath, he dashed forward in a mild panic, weaving between the heavily wooded forest far too slowly to catch up with the intruder.

After frantically chasing for several minutes, it was clear they had escaped. Milo cursed his own stupidity, and prayed that this wouldn't come back to bite him. As for the creepy magic rune-thing... he vowed to never use it again. He didn't want that creature on the other side to start getting familiar with him.

"Coward," he spat in the spy's last known direction, then set off toward Mistral to tend to his wound.

"Wait, wait Neo," Cadence huffed, "You need to slow down, I can't understand when you go that fast."

The young woman made one of her adorable, noiseless snickers before slowing the movements in her arms for him to read the hand signals she gave him.

'What is your greatest fear?' she signed slowly, hoping he remembered all the motions.

"... My greatest... Oh!" He grinned in triumph and leaned back against the bench they both sat in, overlooking the lower city. He pondered thoughtfully, chin resting atop his fist. "I think... my greatest fear is never being significant. I want to be more than just a cog in the machine, I want to amount to something, to be... important. Remembered."

Neo pouted, 'You're important to me!'

"And I feel the same for you," he laughed, giving her a friendly nudge with his elbow. "You know what I mean. So how about you, huh? Greatest fear?" he asked with a touch of hopefulness.

She pursed her lips, tipping her head to the side and gazing to the horizon as if it would give her the answer.

'I'm afraid that the people in my past might come after me and put my new friends in danger,' she concluded.

"... Uh... Put new friends in what? I didn't catch that last word."

Neo's eyes shifted as she huffed in irritation, signing the words for 'peril, risk, pain.'

"Oh, danger, okay," he said with a frown. "I don't know, though... that doesn't sound right. Are you sure that's your fear? I thought it would be something a little more scary. We can handle ourselves, after all."

Neo shifted uncomfortably. This was supposed to be fun, but she'd chosen a bad topic to get into. She knew her real fear. Merely thinking about it made her quake and tremble.

'I don't want to end up alone,' she signed, remembering the loneliness she felt when Roman fell, and even long before the thief had taken her in; the seemingly endless years living on the street.

Seeing the pain in her eyes, Cade pulled her into a warm embrace. "I won't leave you alone, Neo," he promised, earning a tight hug in return.

Suddenly he pulled away with a frown. Concerned, she asked him what was wrong. He lifted his hand, softly brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek. She loved that feeling.

"I wish I could hear your voice."

The young woman felt the nerves rise in her heart, and the tears swell in her eyes. Of the things he could ask for, why does he choose the most impossible of them all? Of course she loved him. Of course she wanted to speak, to tell him that herself without having to sign it. She slid closer to him, twisting in his direction to lace her arms around his neck.

As they shared a somber embrace, a thought occurred in the young woman's mind. Though she hadn't been able to speak in years, it wasn't completely impossible to think that her vocal chords had at least partially healed. She simply never had a reason to risk further damage... until now.

She pulled away and took in a breath, unable to keep herself from smiling in anticipation. "I-" she managed before her weak voice cracked, forcing her into a fit of harsh, wheezing coughs so jarring they left stars in her vision.

Cadence shook his head as he patted her back, "Neo, I don't want you to hurt yourself! If you can't, that's fine, just-"

She shushed him with an extended finger against his lips, forcing the last few coughs into her fist before turning back to him with renewed determination. Acting more carefully, she leaned in close to the side of his head, her lips nearly grazing his ear.

"I-I lo-ove yo-ou," she struggled, fighting through the fire that stung her throat with every syllable. She finished with a great sigh, a rush of adrenaline sending her heart racing; the excitement of saying such a simple phrase that meant so much more than words on a screen or gestures of a hand.

The young man laughed in joy, and was at the verge of tears himself. He hugged her more tightly, planting a tender kiss on her cheek. "I love you too, Neo," he whispered, taking the memory of her sweet voice and holding it tentatively within his heart.

Yang ducked and dodged to the left, gaining her feet and pushing backward just as a metal boot whirled around, slamming on the hard ground with a resounding thud. She let out a swift jab at the overextended appendage, feeling it buckle under the strain, then dashed forward with a quick flurry to subdue her mechanical opponent.

A short buzzer sounded, letting her know that the session was over. Panting heavily, the young blonde stood with a wide grin, proud of her progress. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Milo with a slight smile and an odd look in his eye.

"What?" she questioned, pulling her gloves off for a quick break. "See something you like?" she asked with a smirk. She loved seeing the red tint of embarrassment in his cheeks when she teased him.

His eyes glistened as he laughed, "You're getting much better. Before long you'll be giving me a run for my money." His gaze shifted to the center of the arena, watching as the robots reorganized themselves.

"That's the goal," Yang responded, hoisting herself up atop the wooden container he was using as a chair. She took a few swigs of her water bottle, shifting to a more comfortable position as silence filled the small warehouse. "You're not saying much today," she tested, throwing a glance in his direction.

His mouth hung open for a second as he thought to himself. "Not much to say, I suppose. You're so close, Yang. There's just one little piece missing."

"What's that?" she questioned, lifting an eyebrow in interest.

He hesitated, "You're not quite ready for it. A few more weeks, maybe."

She nodded and frowned, knowing that no matter how much she pestered him, Milo would keep his stupid secrets.

When silence filled the air between them once again, she flashed a glance in his direction. He looked solemn, yet deep in thought, his gaze looking far beyond the confines of the building they sat in.

Unease swelled in her stomach, and she knew the impossible question she had to ask. They had spent so much time together over the past month, but he refused to act any further than her training. It was starting to eat at her, knowing that he liked her but never made a move.

Was it some kind of sniper's state-of-mind? Would he wait forever, looking for 'the right moment,' even if it never comes?

Yang decided she couldn't wait that long.

"Milo, what do you think about... about us?" she asked nervously, her eyes meeting his when he turned in surprise.

"Us?" he replied blandly.

"Us," she repeated with a nod, "Don't play dumb. I know you care about me, or you wouldn't be working so hard to train me up like this. But why don't you go any further?"

He blinked, processing her words carefully with a frown. "There's a war going on, Yang."

"So?" she challenged. "If anything that should give you a reason to look for... someone."

"I-" he took a breath and looked away, trying to stay calm. His wings shivered, betraying the inner battle he fought. "We need to survive first."

The young blonde let out an exasperated huff of annoyance. No more beating around the bush, then.

"Do you love me or not?"

The very air stilled at the sound of her question, and it became so quiet she could hear the thumping heartbeat in his chest. She waited patiently for his response, her gaze never leaving his own. His mouth hung open, and she could see the gears in his head freeze. Why is it so hard for him to just say it?

"I don't know how to answer that," he managed to choke out, gripping his legs hard enough to whiten his knuckles.

"Just tell me the truth," she pressed.

A long pause followed, his eyes boring into hers. How could he explain to her the truth? His life was a mess. Often times, things got so complicated that he wondered whether or not his friends would be able to accept the decisions he made.

He couldn't tell her anything. One single slip up could be enough to reveal one of the myriad of secrets he held, possibly ruining their friendship. But... if he held back and explained later, perhaps she would find it in her heart to forgive him.

Sometimes, there are no good choices to make. He prayed that this was the right one.

"I don't want to make a mistake," he said, letting out a breath he was holding.

Yang leaped to her feet, coming within inches of his face. "What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded. Her crimson eyes burned into his, her heart thundering and breathing heavy. She knew, one way or another she would get her answer.

Yang leaned forward to capture his lips in a kiss.

A loud clang interrupted her, followed by a cacophony of voices. She turned around to see the arrival of their friends, cursing under her breath for their awful timing.

She heard him hop off the wooden crate and whirled around, jamming a finger into his chest. "Don't you dare consider our conversation over!" she hissed in a hushed voice. He merely furrowed his brow and gave a harsh frown in response.

She took a deep breath, letting go of her anger and ensuring that her eyes turned back to normal before greeting her friends.

After a few moments, she took a glance at Milo, who showed no evidence of his nervousness from before, speaking with his own team of misfits about the day's events.

Cade peaked her interest when he produced a tattered black notebook and held it out to Milo. "I forgot I had this. Ozpin gave it to me after Vale," he said. "I know how personal it is to you, so I kept it private."

Milo stared at the notebook a few seconds, eyes wide with surprise. His expression changed and Yang could see resolve in his eyes. "Thank you, but I don't need it anymore."

The blonde smiled and reached over, slipping it out of Cadence's fingers. "If you don't want it then I can finally take a peek, right?" she said with a sly grin.

The young faunus nearly panicked, "Yang, don't!"

She ignored him, slipping a finger between the pages and pulling the notebook open. With a snap of his fingers it ignited, instantly engulfed in flame.

With a gasp, Yang dropped it, the hungry fire burning through the paper in mere seconds. "What is wrong with you?!" she shouted, glaring at him with gritting teeth.

"Don't you know what 'personal' means?" he challenged with any icy frown.

"Why do you always do this?" she yelled, "Every time I get you to open up, you just bury your head again!"

"Well, what do you want then, huh?" he yelled back, "What do you want from me? Want me to pick flowers while I'm out hunting Grimm? Bring nice little chocolates home for the 'princess?'" he taunted sarcastically.

"I just want you to trust me, Milo," she sneered, waving her arm in exasperation as she stepped toward the door. "Is that too much to ask?"

"I do trust you!"

"Then when you're ready to show it, you know where to find me!" she yelled, slamming the door behind her.

Shouting a curse, he spun, drawing his sword and throwing it in a single motion. The blade sung as it whirled through the air, burying itself hilt-deep into the chest of one of the training robots. He sighed deeply as it clattered to the ground in a heap, then turned around to see everyone standing in awkward silence.

"What are you looking at? Don't you have training to do?" He moved before anyone could give an answer, leaning down and pulling his sword free with a quick jerk. Grumbling to himself, he sat down and started taking apart the broken robot for repairs.

Jaune began his training, helping to coordinate their teams for both the potential attack on Mistral, or any other situation he could think of. Progress was slow and questions were numerous, but he seemed to be satisfied with the results.

After an hour or so, Milo had almost completely disassembled one of the robots, thoroughly cleaning or adjusting a few parts here and there. He sat cross-legged, wings held aloft to keep them from dragging on the ground.

Pyrrha approached him from behind, taking a moment to sit beside him. "That was a kind thing you did for Yang today," she said.

He paused his work, glancing in her direction. "I don't know what you're talking about," he stated, turning back to polish a small piece of machinery.

She sighed, "When you went missing, Ozpin showed me what was in your sketchbook. He hoped I might find you for him."

His wings twitched, and she swore she could feel the temperature rise. "Nosey old bastard... Why are you telling me this?" he questioned, giving her a steely glare.

"Are you going to tell her?" Pyrrha asked, ignoring his aggressive demeanor.

He went back to polishing, scrubbing the parts with renewed focus. "Letting her see sketches of you would have only created problems. She would have doubts where there should be none."

"Yes, that was very kind of you... and very brave," Pyrrha added. "Most people wouldn't be able-"

"I'm not most people," he interrupted. "You know that."

"Yes, I know," she huffed, irritated by his shortness.

"Hey, Milo," Jaune called from across the room. The young faunus sighed and stood, quickly making his way toward the group. "I'm trying to figure out a strategy for defending Mistral, and Ren says you can manipulate Grimm. Is that true?"

Milo's eyes snapped to the quietest member of team JNPR, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Ren's eyes betrayed his silence. He knew. His memory flashed, the silhouette dodging through the trees, deep in the forest. Ren was the one who saw him tampering with black magic.

"What gave you that ridiculous idea? I can't do that," Milo replied, knowing he would never use it again.

"You're lying! You're lying to these people!" Ren yelled, drawing his weapons with a flick of each wrist and raising them toward the avian. Milo drew his own swords in response, a bit surprised by his reaction. Jaune stepped between them and held up his hands in an attempt to keep the peace.

"How can we work together if we can't trust each other?" Ruby asked, casting a worried look at each of them while the others shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes, Jaune. How do we do that?" Ren harshly questioned, snapping his head in the young leader's direction.

Jaune kept his hands held up, trying to keep peace between them. "Just calm down, and put your weapons down," he reasoned. "Ren? You and I need to talk later. As for Milo... If there is anything you can do regarding the Grimm, it could be invaluable."

Milo shook his head. "The only thing I can reliably do is draw the Grimm toward me."

Jaune nodded, lowering his hands once Ren and Milo sheathed their weapons. "Okay, I'll remember that," he said.

"You know," Gabriel jokingly started, "If we keep fighting we're gonna end up attracting a few Grimm for each of us on the way home."

"But we haven't even had dinner yet!" Mike exclaimed. "I can't fight on an empty stomach..."

"Well, then I suggest we get to the dining hall before they decide to close it," Jaune suggested, eager to turn the conversation to a lighter topic.

Before leaving, Milo gathered the disassembled pieces and placed them in a box to finish later. When he looked up, he was dismayed to see Ren glaring down on him with hate in his eyes.

"I know what I saw," he hissed. "The only thing that ever comes out of your mouth is half-truths and deception."

Milo rose to his feet, standing a full head taller than the young man. He jabbed a finger in his chest as his golden eyes flared, "You have no idea who I am or what I've been through. You have no right to accuse me of anything, so back off."

"Or what?" Ren spat. "You'll kill me?"

The avian's face darkened, and his eyes glanced to the left. Ren followed his gaze, seeing Nora, skipping her way to the exit. His head snapped back to Milo, giving him a defiant, deadly glare.

"We all have people we're protecting," Milo warned under his breath, and stepped past him with a forceful push of his wing.

Ren saw through Milo's cryptic words. By not telling the truth, he was protecting someone... but he was also threatening him to back down.

"Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it."

-Proverbs 4:23