No news from insurance re my car and the garage it's to be sent to. I guess it won't matter too much if they rack up the cost since I'll be claiming it from them. My shoulder and arm have stopped aching though, so I probably just lightly bruised them. That's some good news. I also keep having dreams of losing control of the car but, ironically, I never crash in the dreams. It's like some quasi-nightmare. "Gonna scare you! Not gonna scare you… Gonna scare you! Ha ha, just joking, you're fine. Or are you…?"

This chapter might be a little harsh to read.


Cover Art: GWBrex

Chapter 28


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The Arc Leaks: Treasure trove of personal texts, call records and more leaked from Jaune Arc's scroll by hackers

Atlas Times

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Weiss Schnee uses influence to try and have 15 year old girl removed from Beacon

Vale Daily Tribune

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More than just a friend? Leaked calls show near DAILY calls between Jaune Arc and Pyrrha Nikos raising questions as to the true nature of their relationship, and whether his fiancée knows it.

The Mistral Review

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Gillian Asturias decries leaks of personal emails: "the private interactions of a person are just that."

Vacuo Today

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White Fang hackers leak private conversations of KNOWN racist Jaune Arc, showing corruption and anti-faunus sentiment

Kuo Kuana Express

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It was a disaster.

Jaune hadn't even known until Elm burst into his room telling him that he, his sisters and his parents, needed to be relocated right now. A moment later, she snatched his scroll and smashed it on the floor. The entire family was shuttled out their quarters and away, the younger girls terrified and the older ones trying to keep the calm. They weren't taken off Atlas, just moved to another part of it where they would be safer, and where no one would know where they were. General Ironwood was waiting there for them with a thunderous expression.

"Your scroll and its network have been hacked," said Ironwood. Jaune's mouth opened, protests on his lips, but the man continued. "It's not your fault. The breach came from the other side, likely from a virus planted in the CCT or an attack on the network provider. We're not sure yet. We know it's not your scroll because your pictures and private documents saved on the device haven't gone public. Only your texts and calls."

"The White Fang have claimed responsibility," said Clover. Jaune felt bile rise in his stomach.

"You can't take that at face value," interrupted Harriet. "The White Fang would claim they were responsible for someone choking on a slice of bread if it benefited them. More likely it's some script-kiddie deciding to make bank selling his calls to the newspaper. If not some ethical hacker thinking the world deserves to know how taxpayer money is being spent."

"What's ethical about this!?" growled Nicholas.

"Nothing," said Ironwood, "but that doesn't stop people getting it in their heads that people need to know. The point is that things have been leaked and we need to adapt. Swiftly."

Jaune swallowed. "How bad is it?"

"It's not good."

"It could be worse," said Elm, stepping in with a hand on Jaune's shoulder. "It could be a lot worse. At least you weren't sexting one another or you'd have your genitals all over the internet by now. I've seen much worse situations than this from one celeb to another."

He hadn't sent any pictures like that. Hell, he didn't have any pictures like that. He and Weiss hadn't been that kind of physical yet, and he'd never felt the need to picture himself. If anything, he and Weiss exchanged pictures smiling at the camera to one another. He also had one of her team, despite her issues with them, and a few more from Whitley of some game or funny meme the boy found online. Normal stuff. He got way more from his sisters about school, Atlas, or other random stuff.

"It's not that the material is particularly damning but that it'll be taken out of context," said General Ironwood. "Take, for instance, your girlfriend's complaints about her team. Rather than see that as one person complaining to a confidante, the media are taking it that you're working in the shadows to try and oust her team leader."

"What? We're not!"

"It doesn't matter. They want a story and they'll push it. The other problem is Blake Belladonna, who they thankfully haven't mentioned by name in most reports. Even they know better than to break the law revealing the name of someone in protective custody. Still, without the context of why you dislike Weiss' faunus teammate, the sentiment is being taken another way."

Jaune groaned. "That I'm racist." It wasn't hard to imagine. They'd already had that idea in their heads once before, and now they had a whiff of smoke and could claim the fire had been there all along. Jaune felt his stomach roll, but then it did a backflip when he realised the other side of the coin. "Weiss! Oh no, Weiss is being hit with this as well!"

"Miss Schnee has been informed and Headmaster Ozpin and Professor Goodwitch are assisting her and her team in the matter," said Vine. "Furthermore, they're being taught how to look past the lies and pick out the truth. There's no real evidence she tried to have her team leader removed."

Even if there wasn't he just knew this was going to sour relations in her team, turn them all against her, and that it'd be his fault. He felt sick. Utterly and wretchedly sick. Everyone in Beacon – everyone – was going to hate Weiss for this. She'd become a pariah. He couldn't even begin to imagine what her reaction would be. He'd up and ruined her life.

"Jaune! Jaune!" His mother was shaking him by his shoulders. "Jaune, please, you're scaring me. Snap out of it."

"I… I need to talk to Weiss."

"You need to talk to us first," warned Ironwood. "And we need to come to an agreement on how to handle this. The first stage is addressing it: we've already sent out press releases and given official statements condemning the breach of privacy. We've made it clear the private conversations of two teenagers are just that. The Council have put their support behind you."

Good. That was… That was a relief. He realised his hands were shaking and shoved them in his pockets. He still felt jittery, still felt sick, but he forced himself to meet the other man's eyes. "O-Okay. What next?"

"Next is that you need to address this yourself. We can't have you staying quiet over this or rumours will fester. I hate to do this, but we've agreed to a one-on-one interview on your behalf. Televised." He sounded sorry, and for good reason since it was the last thing Jaune wanted right now. "This won't go away if you just ignore it. In fact, it'll only get worse. We don't even think this will be enough to really stop it, but you can at least get a handle on some subjects. Be warned," he added. "This won't be a friendly interviewer. We're on the back foot here and they know it, so they've sent in their most popular. He's popular for a reason and that reason is how combative he can be."

Great. Wonderful. The media training he'd been given had always told him to pick carefully who he spoke to, which was why he went to Lisa Lavender with his tell-all interview before. There were certain people, usually those looking to make money off viewership, who were less interested in fair reporting and more interested in causing offence and instigating drama. It sounded like he was getting one of those.

"I've gotten you a burner scroll until then," said Ironwood, handing it over. "Use this sparingly. Send nothing private. You can call Miss Schnee if you want. We need to get you to the hospital first – show Mantle you're still doing your job. Then it's straight to the interview after."

"Straight away!?"

"You being tired and dishevelled from bringing people back to life will make the viewers more sympathetic." said Clover. "The worst thing you can do at a time like this is show up flanked by lawyers and looking dressed up like a superstar."

"In the meantime, your family is being relocated," said Ironwood. "We don't believe there is any threat to you or them, but if the White Fang really are behind this then they have access to your address now. Even if they're not, they can read it from the leaks as easily as anyone else can."

/-/

"Weiss, I-"

"I know it wasn't your fault." Weiss was angry. That much, he could tell. Her clipped voice and the sharp cut off to each sentence made it clear. "I can't talk right now, Jaune, I'm trying to fix my team. They're… Damn it, Xiao-Long is being insufferable about her stupid sister. They're saying I tried to get her expelled."

"Let them listen to our call if it helps. I give my permission."

"You do…?" Weiss paused for breath. "Alright. That might help. Thank you." Her tone softened just a little. "I'm not blaming you for this, Jaune. I know I sound angry – I am angry – but it's more at everything else. I really do have to go."

"Yeah. Alright. I have a television interview today. I'll try and clear things up."

"Make sure you don't make things worse."

"I'll try my best. Love you."

"I love you too. Goodbye."

The call ended with a flicker of black and Jaune leaned back on the APC covers, groaning. Elm's hand was on his knee almost immediately.

"Don't worry so much. I'm sure she's just upset about this the same as you are. This really isn't as bad as it could be. Just think of all the ways it could be worse."

"Yeah, my dick on everyone's hard drive."

"Or Weiss' body."

That made him stiffen, but he forced himself to relax. It hadn't happened and hopefully never would. That didn't mean candid snaps of the two of them weren't going around, sometimes in their pyjamas or Weiss in her night dress, but they weren't scandalous. Just private. Private, vulnerable moments that no one else deserved to be a part of.

They arrived at the hospital to far larger crowds than usual. Cameras flashed, microphones were shoved into his face, and Jaune had to wade his way through them. There came a point when it was all too much and even the Arc-Ops couldn't fight through. They were stopped, held in place, and he just knew that if any of his bodyguards actually hurt anyone to get them through that it would become far worse. Jaune cleared his throat and spoke loudly into the microphones.

"My Semblance has a time limit after which I can't bring someone back. You are actively stopping me being able to save people's lives right now. You are putting children at risk."

"Mr Arc," cried one journalist, utterly uncaring, "What do you say to claims that you and Weiss Schnee worked together to orchestrate the expulsion of a girl two years younger than you from Beacon?"

"I say that there are children ten years younger than her lying dead in this hospital, and that if you continue to block my path that I won't be able to save them. Do you want to be responsible for their deaths?"

He really thought that would move them.

It didn't.

Voices were raised, cameras were shoved at him, and in the end the Arc-Ops had to fight their way to the hospital anyway, squeezing Jaune through the door and slamming it shut, then leaving Elm, Vine and Tortuga to guard it as Clover and Harriet took him to the morgue. The eighteen families were waiting for him there, and whatever they'd heard and whatever they thought, they knew better than to raise the issue. They were quiet and suitably grateful, and for once he didn't bother asking them how their children had died or what negligence had caused it. He had bigger things to worry about.

He came out the hospital at a little over ten percent aura, with his eyes heavy and his forehead beaded with sweat. If they wanted him to look rough for his interview then he'd sure as hell managed it. The crowd were still outside, still loud, still persistent, and there were more than just journalists and media in attendance. By now, however, there was also police. A lot of them, forming a barrier to hold everyone back and let him slip away to his APC with the Arc-Ops. There was a fair share of abuse hurled along with the questions, likely from faunus who, in their defence, didn't know better than what they'd been told. They didn't understand Belladonna was an attempted murderer, nor that she should by all accounts be in a cell. All they knew was that he and Weiss were complaining about a faunus being on her team.

"Tell me the one who leaked this will get arrested," begged Jaune once they were inside.

"There will be an investigation and we'll be searching for them," said Clover. "They're a priority target after this. I can promise you that."

But he couldn't promise that would go anywhere. People got away with crimes all the time, especially the online variety, and if this person could hack a scroll network then they could sure as hell mask their presence online while doing so.

/-/

Jaune refused the make-up and touch-up offered by the studio. They wanted to make him look fresh as a daisy, but he wasn't interested in that. It'd just suit their motives anyway. Instead, he took a bottle of spring water with him out onto the stage – where a set up with two chairs on one side and one on the other had been set up around a small round table, with a semi-circular screen behind them and an audience to their front. Before that audience were a whole host of cameras pointing their way, and in the two seats were figures Jaune would never have normally known if not for his media training.

Sally Reed and Richard Landgreen were a pair of commentators famous in Atlas for what people would graciously call "nationalistic" views. Not necessarily racism, but more of the kind that said all power should remain in Atlas, and who would frequently call out and attack other kingdoms for even the smallest of perceived sleights against the kingdom of Atlas. They were, to put it lightly, bastards. The PR teams in Atlas hated them not least of all because despite their stances flicking back and forth like a light switch, they were popular. Popular in the way that they made good television. Entertainment news, the PR teams called them. Not real news, not even sensible news, but sensationalism and pointless arguments.

Watch Reed, he remembered Clover telling him. She presents herself as the soft and reasonable side to Landgreen's vitriol, but the truth is she's on his side fully. She'll step in if she thinks you're getting any ground. He's the main aggressor and she's the one who picks apart whatever you say.

Jaune took a seat and a breath at the same time. He didn't smile – he didn't think he could manage it, and a fake smile was worse than a truthful grimace. He was dressed in grey jeans and a black jumper for the cold, with an armband denoting his hospital access and technical medical status and a whitish collar poking out the top of the jumper.

"Thank you for coming on today, Jaune," said Sally, all smiles. She was pretty in a kind way, not necessarily young, but like a mother. It was all an act to portray her as the good cop. Landgreen was an older man with thinning hair and crease lines all over his forehead. He sat in a black suit with a rumpled shirt, legs spread, leaning forward, while Sally wore a red dress and had one leg crossed lazily over her other. "It's not everyday the most famous man in Atlas agrees to an interview with Atlas National Daily. How has your day been?"

"Strained," said Jaune.

"Is it any wonder?" said Landgreen. "After the bombshell reveal of your leaked texts and messages, I'd say you're right to squirm." He gestured with one hand dismissively, snorted and continued. "There are a lot of people in Atlas rightly questioning whether you're worth the frankly ludicrous amount of money you're paid and what exactly you do for Atlas-"

"I save lives." The interruption was swift and immediate. Jaune relished the irritated look on the man' face. "I save lives, Richard. I bring dead children back to life and give them another chance. That's what I do. I assumed you'd know that."

"Now Jaune," said Sally, simpering and light. "I'm sure you know that what Richard means is that a lot of normal people can't feel or see the benefit you bring. And it's everyone who has to pay, not just those whose family members you save."

"I'm sure an economist could give you a better idea of what I offer beyond my work in the hospitals," said Jaune. "I'm told that the Council have more than made a profit off me in terms of economic impact. People coming to Atlas, businesses relocating here, the easing of pressure on hospitals so they can focus on other cases-"

"That's all well and good from the council," said Richard, "but they talk in speculative figures. What is an extra billion in the economy if it's spread out over so many people?"

"It's a billion."

"That's not-"

"A billion is a billion," said Jaune. "By that logic you could ask what the millions I'm paid really equate to, since that's also spread out over so many people. I'm still bringing in more for Atlas than it puts out, so it's a profit."

"We're not here to talk business though, are we?" asked Sally. "We're here to talk about your explosive leaks."

"Then maybe Richard shouldn't have brought up the business angle."

Sally smiled. "The young man is right, Richard. Let's get back to what's important, hm?"

Richard scoffed and smiled at the same time. "You're too gentle, Sally. I suppose you're feeling the urge to look after him. He's not one of your children, you know." They both laughed, as did the audience, while Jaune fought a sneer.

It was a well-planned little play on their part, and something they were used to doing. She would dig him out any hole he got into, and he would accuse her of "taking it easy" on their guests, essentially turning the audience opinion in his favour by painting himself as unfairly made to be the cruel one and suggesting that even the small amount of ground she'd given in admitting Jaune's point only existed because she was treating him with kid gloves.

"There's a lot of talk about the content of your texts and calls," said Sally, taking the lead. "A lot of private calls to your fiancée, which is to be expected, but the content of some of those has raised eyebrows, especially with Weiss Schnee attending Beacon – a school in another kingdom that, by all accounts, is supposed to be independent."

"It is independent," said Jaune.

Richard laughed. "Oh, please. You say that as if any school can really ignore the pressure put on it by the most famous man on Remnant and the daughter of the richest family. You can hardly blame Beacon for feeling the squeeze."

"But there is no squeeze. Weiss hasn't been made team leader and her current leader hasn't – and won't – be expelled."

"Because this was caught before you could apply that pressure."

"There was never going to be any pressure."

"The call logs, recorded mind you, clearly show that your fiancée intended to complain to the faculty about this Ruby Rose."

"There's nothing wrong with that," defended Jaune. He heard boos from the audience and resisted the urge to tell them where they could shove it. "It was Weiss' first day in Beacon and she had some issues with her team. I'd say that's perfectly normal."

"Specifically, she has issues with not being the team leader."

Jaune tried not to wince. The way he said that, while accurate, painted Weiss as the most arrogant of people, and he'd promised to defend her. It was part of their agreement. "Weiss felt she would be best suited for the role; the teachers disagreed. All we were doing was talking about that. I think it'd be totally normal for someone to complain to their significant other if they were passed over for a promotion at work. Don't you?"

"Perfectly normal," agreed Richard, which was a bad sign. "But then most people desperately need the money to get by. She, and you, do not, and someone so famous hardly needs the recognition. This smacks of bullying to me. A young girl moved ahead, nervous and desperate to do her best, and a jealous older woman who ought to know better enraged that she isn't being given the attention she deserves."

"That's complete nonsense!" shouted Jaune, hotly. Richard smiled ferally. Damn it, he'd let the man work him up. "Weiss was disappointed, sure, but anyone would be. Whatever issues they have are issues they're working out as a team. This illegal foray into our private affairs is hardly helping matters."

"You have to admit it looks bad," said Sally, a calming and cajoling lilt to her voice. "Richard makes it sound worse than it is, I'm sure, but the girl is still fifteen. Ruby Rose is a prodigy to have been moved so far ahead, and records from Vale showed she was instrumental in foiling a robbery from known criminal Roman Torchwick. Her actions led to the arrest of six men even if the perpetrator got away. Do you think she's unsuited to be a team leader after that?"

He saw the trap.

Agree with her and seem reasonable but throw Weiss to the wolves, or side with Weiss and come across as if he was picking on some little girl he'd never met.

"I don't know anything about her other than what Weiss has told me," he said, instead. "All I know is that I was having a chat with my fiancée and trying to cheer her up after a rough first day."

"You still sided with her," said Richard.

"Yeah, because we're engaged. Do you side with your wife, Richard?"

"I'm not the one at the heart of an international scandal," he replied. "The point is that you sided with your fiancée, a very influentially powerful young woman, against what is, for all intents and purposes, a child. We all know that children from wealthy families have more advantages in life, but Beacon is supposed to be free from that. Goodness, education in general is supposed to be free from that. You're using your influence – the influence Atlas has trusted you with – to belittle and bully a child."

"I used my influence to have a scroll call with my fiancée!" argued Jaune. "That's all."

"Don't you think that after you revealed your own difficulties with your mental health, and your struggle to find your confidence, that it's unfair to put pressure on a young child who is no doubt also terrified about the responsibility being thrust upon her?" asked Sally.

"I haven't put pressure on her," said Jaune. "You all have! You've leaked all this, dragged her name into the open and thrown her out into the public like this. Do you think she's happy with all this attention? I bet she isn't!"

"This is the least of the bombshells dropped here, isn't it?" scoffed Landgreen. "Complaints about a faunus teammate, daily calls to another woman, not to mention regular discussions about the White Fang."

"None of which is any of your business."

"It strikes me that it shouldn't be yours either. What should a healer have to know of terrorists?"

"When those terrorists are a) a threat on my life and b) the cause of several instances of me having to use my Semblance, it was decided I should be made aware of them. Decided by the military," added Jaune, "so you're welcome to take that up with people who know far more about the security and defence of Atlas than the two of you."

"Are you saying the issue of a faunus on your fiancée's team – in Beacon, mind you – is a matter of Atlas national security?" asked Richard. He wore a sarcastic smile. "Come now. Don't be insulting. You're treating our viewers like idiots."

"I'm saying that it's a confidential military matter," said Jaune, "And that should be evidence enough for intelligent viewers to figure out what it means."

"You have to admit that's a bit of a cop-out," said Sally.

"You actually know the truth of the matter," countered Jaune. "You've read all my messages so you know exactly what the issue is, but you're not broadcasting it because you know you'll get in legal trouble for it." He enjoyed the irritation flashing across Sally's otherwise perfectly controlled smile. "Your viewers should keep that in mind. Sally and Richard know what the issue with said faunus teammate is, but they're legally prevented from saying it, which tells you all that this matter is more than just me or Weiss disliking faunus. Which we don't. I heal faunus all the time."

"I heal faunus all the time," mocked Richard, "is like the old `I have a faunus friend` argument. It's never held water and you know it." He turned to the audience. "What we have here is a clear case of a man too big for his pants, becoming so self-important that he thinks he can run roughshod over normal people."

"Coming from you!?" cried Jaune, horrified. "That's rich! Weiss and I were talking. We are normal people. We were chatting about her first day in Beacon and you're all twisting-"

"There's no need to shout," chided Sally. "We're all adults here, or close enough, and we can talk like mature adults. I'm sure."

Jaune seethed. "I work myself to exhaustion every day for Atlas."

"Oh, please," sneered Richard. "Working yourself to exhaustion. You spend two hours at work per day. Even assuming all seven days, that's fourteen hours. Most people work thirty-five a week or more for a thousandth the salary you earn."

"Most people don't bring back the fucking dead!"

There were gasps from the audience. "Language!" chided Sally, laughing awkwardly. "This is daytime television-"

"Thirty-six people per day," snarled Jaune. "Two hundred and fifty-two people per week. Thirteen thousand, one hundred and four people per year!" He let the number hang, the staggering figure. "That is how many people I work to bring back from the dead! I do all that, using up as much of my aura as I can without collapsing, all for the benefit of not being able to have a damned scroll call with my fiancée without you people jumping down my throat!"

"Us people?" mocked Richard. "You mean normal people living in Atlas. Lest we forget you're not even a real Atlas citizen."

The crowd agreed with him. Jaune was gobsmacked, furious, and the braying and agreeing shouts of the audience pushed him even further toward the edge. He turned to them, eyes wide and mouth open, unable to comprehend the fact they'd side with these people when he'd just told them he saved over ten thousand lives. Ten thousand! And why? Because he and Weiss had one call in which they talked about a girl behind her back. Sure, it wasn't a kind thing to do in hindsight, but they were being dragged through the mud because of it when he would guarantee said girl and her sister had definitely been complaining about Weiss behind her back as well. It was just what people did. It was completely normal behaviour.

"It looks like the public have made their feelings clear," said Sally. There was no doubting the satisfaction in her voice now. Her smile was smug. Richard's was smugger still. Jaune drew a shuddering breath and felt his eyes twitching. There was a deep, pulsating pain above and behind his left eye.

"Is… Is that so…?" His voice was quiet. Weak. Cameras flashed, lenses zoomed in, and the audience chanted against him. Jaune closed his eyes. "Then fine. If that's what you want, then fine. You can have it."

He stood, pulled out his wallet and fiddled with it. The presenters looked shocked, but not nearly as shocked when he fished out his Atlas ID card, his citizenship, and sent it flicking at them. It struck Richard in the face, bounced off and landed on the table. He picked it up, unsure what to say. "What…?"

"If Atlas doesn't want me then it shouldn't have to put up with me," said Jaune. He pulled the microphone off him, pulling the wire out his collar and tossing it on the table. He was talking loudly enough, and angrily enough, to be heard anyway. "I've broken my back every day for you people, saved tens of thousands over my two years here, and done everything you asked of me. I've attended press meetings, public events, gone to other kingdoms where I was nearly kidnapped at one and then almost assassinated at another. And this is my reward? Fuck you." Sally opened her mouth only for Jaune to shout over her. "And fuck you too. Take your taxpayer money back, take your promises back." He stormed away, toward the changing rooms. "Let the bodies pile up for all I care."

A camera zoomed in on his face and Jaune planted his hand on the lens and pushed it aside, knocking it down as he stormed away. His voice carried; his final words were audible in the stunned silence of the studio.

"I'm done."


Uh-oh.

Jaune's limit has been reached.

I'm actually basing a lot of this off real-life events. Not my life, obviously, but real-life events that have happened to celebrity people and couple, including how the newspapers portray them and how quickly the public can go from "we love them" to "I wish they would die of cancer."

Some of it's even inspired by real media groups like GMB, Fox, the Express and such.


Like my work? Please consider supporting me, even if it's only a little a month or even for a whole year, so I can keep writing so many stories as often as I do. Even a little means a lot and helps me dedicate more time and resources to my work.

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur

Next Chapter: 19th January