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"I'm still surprised that Whitaker didn't come to Beacon."
Coco did her best to chuckle at Velvet's observation. It had been six months since she entered Beacon, and it'd been six months since she last heard from Witt. The difference from Pharos Academy and Beacon Academy was mind-boggling. Beacon's campus was nearly triple the size of Pharos', not to mention how many more students there were and how even of a playing ground it was.
Every student at Beacon was around the same skill level. Of course, some students stood out, namely Team CFVY, Team IRON, and Team VRDT. After the entrance exam, Coco was placed on a team with Fox Alistair, Velvet Scarlatina, and Yatsuhashi Daichi, forming Team CFVY.
Fox was an interesting person to say the least. He was quiet and reserved at first, but after the first couple months, he quickly opened up to the rest of Team CFVY. He even went so far as to make a few jokes about his blindness. And he was as quiet as a… well, a fox, when the team needed him to be.
Velvet, an acquaintance from Pharos Academy, was the friendliest of the four. The bunny-eared faunus was the first to openly approach Coco, stating that the amber-eyed girl was a huge inspiration to her during their time at Pharos. And Velvet's weapon and Semblance were definitely among the most interesting things Coco had seen in her time at Pharos.
Yatsuhashi proved to be the silent, stoic type that Coco originally pegged him as. Despite that, the broad-shouldered boy had a harsh protective streak, something that would prove invaluable given how feeble the rest of Team CFVY was.
"Well, he made his choice." Coco sat down on her bed in Team CFVY's dorm. Sharing a room with two boys still freaked her out; definitely less than it did three months ago, but it was still slightly uncomfortable. She treasured the moments when only she and Velvet were present in the room.
"Has he contacted you at all?" Velvet asked, one of her ears lied on the top of her head.
Coco shook her head. "I haven't heard from him since promotion."
"I'm sorry."
"Why?"
"You two were dating, right?"
Coco sputtered, her face turning crimson. "We were only friends."
Velvet's eyes narrowed, her gaze becoming almost lazy. "Really now?" Her accent only made the sarcasm even more apparent. Fox would've appreciated it.
Coco raised her hands in surrender. "Really." She laid back on the bed and pulled a pillow close to her, hugging it against her chest.
Velvet waved a hand in Coco's direction. "It doesn't look like it." The faunus laid down beside Coco. "If anything, it looks like you're still crushing on him."
Coco flushed. She coughed into the pillow. "It's complicated. I was a little late in confessing to him. It was poorly timed."
"Poorly timed?"
"It was the same day that he was going to face his father and decide whether or not he would try becoming a Huntsman for a year."
Velvet facepalmed. "Seriously?" The bunny-eared faunus groaned at Coco's small nod. "I've seen you flirt with guys and have them eating out of the palm of your hand in minutes! How did it take you so long to confess to him?"
"I was younger, alright?" Coco pleaded. "Things were different then."
Velvet sighed. "Still. I thought you two were already dating by second-year."
"I wish," Coco said. "But that's in the past. I have to look forward now."
The door to the dorm opened, and Fox and Yatsuhashi stepped into the room.
"Yeah," Velvet murmured into Coco's ear. "Look forward to those readings that Oobleck gave us."
Coco groaned.
[;]
"It's about time you messaged her," Esmond said, stoking the campfire with a stick. "It's been six months."
Whitaker rolled out his sleeping bag, completely ignoring what his father said. Not that it didn't go unheard. He'd made his choice. She was likely busy with Beacon as well, and he couldn't have his unresolved feelings for her distract him. And it wasn't like he'd had much time to think about romance.
There were more important things than that.
"Just leave it, Dad. We're on a mission."
"Right." Esmond unfurled his own sleeping bag, laying it opposite his son's. "Do you remember the briefing?"
"We're responding to a call in Patch," recited Witt. "We're to report to Huntsman Xiao Long and follow his orders. After he decides that our mission is complete, we're to report back to the Vale Council."
"Well done." Esmond sat on his sleeping bag.
Whitaker sat in front of the fire, staring at it. The last six months had been eye-opening, but incredibly exciting. He'd fought Grimm, criminals, and even the White Fang. His first mission was a complete catastrophe, his father expected it to be a failure and informed him of its low-risk nature. No citizens of Vale were harmed. Luckily.
Whitaker's next few missions took him all across the kingdom of Vale. Namely Verdant— a settlement south-west of the city of Vale— Mountain Glenn, and now Patch.
[;]
His first mission was to locate the source of negativity in Verdant that the Grimm were attracted to, and either eliminate the source or remove it from the grounds of the town. After doing some investigating and questioning, Whitaker noticed that the faunus population of the settlement was extremely uncooperative, even going so far as to criticize his assignment and role as a Huntsman.
With a little help from his father, Whitaker tracked down the source of negativity: a White Fang safehouse; not its location, but its existence. It was more than surprising, considering the relatively small population of Verdant. But if the organisation could plant its roots in Verdant, there was no doubt that they would be in other small settlements too. In order to root out the safe house, Whitaker and Esmond infiltrated the safehouse during the night. Thanks to his studies, Whitaker knew that faunus had near-perfect vision at night. Their clothing didn't matter, and neither did the cover of night. But they chose to sneak into the safe house at the time not because it would help them escape the faunus, but because it would let them expose the safehouse.
It was a risky play to expose the safehouse at that time. It would've attracted even more Grimm and put the citizens in danger.
When Whitaker first brought it up to his father, Esmond disapproved. Highly. He called it "callous, brash, and un-Huntsman-like." Eventually, when his father realized that there was no other alternative and decided to hear his son out. First, they scouted out the safehouse. Whitaker, during the initial investigation, saw several crates of Dust being transported by faunus into a warehouse near the western edge of the city about a mile off the coast.
"Do you think that's the safehouse?" Whitaker tested.
Esmond shook his head, looking down at a map of Verdant. "It's too obvious. It's just the middle-man between wherever they're getting the Dust and wherever they're actually keeping it."
"Would it hurt to scout out?" asked Whitaker.
"It's too risky. And I'm fairly sure that my assumption is correct."
"Then what's next?"
Esmond clenched his jaw. "We hope for the best."
Under the cover of night, Esmond and Whitaker trailed the next shipment of Dust to the exact location of the warehouse. Whitaker spotted the white and black uniforms of the White Fang outside of the warehouse after an hour.
"I count three— no, four White Fang. Two with small-arms, two with rifles," Whitaker whispered to Esmond as he whipped back behind the wall. The warehouse was about two-hundred feet out from them; the inside was pitch black, the only available light is the light of Remnant's shattered moon.
"There's more."
"No, shit, Dad."
Esmond gave Whitaker a glare, but returned his focus to the task at hand. "I'll go up—"
Whitaker put his hand up. He smiled in an attempt to calm down his rapidly beating heart. "I'll do it. My Semblance makes it easier for me to deal with mistakes. Just wait out here."
"Just remember the plan, kid."
"If the plan doesn't work?"
"Then we move to Plan C."
Whitaker paused. "We never talked about a Plan C. What's Plan C?"
Esmond grimaced. "Clear house."
Without another word, Whitaker disappeared into the darkness and headed towards the warehouse. He wasn't sure where the confidence came from. But he already told his father that he would do it. No point in going back on his word now.
Witt neared the warehouse. His heart pounded against his chest. Whitaker waited with bated breath as a White Fang guard stood in front of the entrance to the warehouse. As the guard eventually moved on, Witt snuck past him and into the warehouse proper.
Whitaker pushed past the warehouse doors, wincing as they creaked open. He quickly entered and hugged the nearest wall. Despite the lack of light, Whitaker saw vague outlines of shapes that roamed the warehouse. Luckily for him, shipping containers were stacked high enough that anyone on the upper floors wouldn't be able to see him, and, as far as Whitaker could tell, the containers themselves were arranged in a maze-like pattern.
He left Lightning in its sheath, putting his back to a nearby container and trepidatiously stepping alongside the container. If he remembered correctly, he came in through the western entrance, meaning the harbor entrance was on the opposite side of him. He needed to get to the other side and to see the full extent of the White Fang operation.
Whitaker stopped at the end of the container and peeked around the corner. It was another hallway, one side made of the containers and the other of the warehouse's walls. As he moved around the corner, he spotted the logo of the Schnee Dust Company. Taking another look around, he realized that the first floor of the warehouse was filled with crates of Dust.
Enough to blow Verdant off the map if it exploded.
Fuck. Whitaker unsheathed Lightning. He needed to get back to his father so that they could deal with it together. Sweat pooled in his hands as they clamped tighter and tighter around Lightning. His heart began to beat faster once again.
He turned back towards the doors that he entered through, but before he could open it himself, it opened towards him. Two faunus draped in White Fang gear were talking to each other as they opened the door, both yelped at the sight of Witt.
The young Huntsman was left with very little options.
Whitaker grabbed the deer faunus in front of him by its throat, clamped his hand over its mouth, and stabbed one of Lightning's blades through its chest. Whitaker silenced the faunus as its blood began to seep into his clothes.
The other faunus scrambled for his gun, but before he could get a shot off, Whitaker kicked it out of his hands and slashed across the faunus' chest. The dog faunus fell back, clutching his wound and looking up at Whitaker with desperation in his eyes. As the faunus began to open its mouth to shout for help, Whitaker lunged forward and finished him with a final stab in the throat. Blood sprayed from the wound, covering Whitaker's face in crimson splatters. Without warning, bile shot out from Whitaker's mouth. Lime and dark green throw-up coated the dog faunus' corpse.
Witt grew still, his whole body tightening and tensing as if a great weight fell over him. His breathing grew harsher, and the world began to spin. He heard a ringing in his ears as he desperately shook his head in an attempt to forget what had just happened. He stared at the corpse. He tried to comprehend what had just happened.
But when he heard the sound of other White Fang patrols coming his direction, Whitaker forced those thoughts aside with all of his strength. There was no time to hesitate. Especially when lives were on the line.
When Whitaker disappeared from the scene, it didn't take long for the bodies to be discovered.
The alarm blared soon after.
He needed to leave. His job was done— he scouted the warehouse, discovered what it held, and assessed its danger. Now, he had to get back to his father. Easier said than done considering he had to maneuver through a compound full of trained White Fang soldiers.
Whitaker clenched his jaw.
He grabbed the hilt of Lightning.
With a metallic hiss, the blade left its sheath.
And a tempest of steel tore through the compound.
[;]
When Witt saw his father again, a light blue was beginning to settle in the sky, and Whitaker was back where they originally began the operation. Esmond, upon seeing his son, rushed over immediately. Black Sun collapsed into its wristband form as Esmond hugged Whitaker.
"Are you alright? Gods, I was worried sick."
Whitaker pursed his lips and nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine, Dad."
Esmond then noticed the dried blood on Witt's dark blue jacked. Something in Esmond's demeanor changed. His brows furrowed and his eyes darkened. "I'm sorry, Witt."
"It's okay. I knew the risks. I just…" Witt swallowed. "Does it get easier?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
"You eventually realize that it's a necessity. And you learn to deal with it better." Esmond sighed. "It does get easier. If only marginally."
"Good. That's— that's good." Witt forced a smile. "It would suck to deal with this feeling forever."
"It doesn't go away. You just get better at handling it." Esmond patted Witt's shoulder. "Anyways, you did well. I'll notify Ozpin about this and he'll send someone to collect the Dust crates. Until then, we just need to sit tight and make sure no one else decides to take the Dust."
As the people of Verdant slowly awoke, the events of the night were revealed. The discovery and subsequent eradication of the source of negativity was held in a positive light— after all, it had plagued the settlement for weeks now. But the fact that around fifteen White Fang were either killed or arrested dismayed the people, especially the faunus population. What the faunus first viewed as just Huntsman, now Esmond and Whitaker became faunus-killers; they were just as merciless as the Schnee Dust Company. It didn't take long before the idea spread like wildfire.
"Why are they so… angry?" asked Witt as he closed the blinds to their apartment. One of the families had been kind enough to house them for the duration of their time at Verdant.
"They've been struggling for a long time, and they're tired of being seen as less." Esmond explained.
"But we didn't do anything?"
"They've got their hearts set on it, kid. Just let it go. Once Qrow gets here, we can leave."
It didn't take long. Qrow arrived within a day of Esmond notifying Ozpin.
A haggard, hazy-eyed Qrow stepped into the room that Esmond and Whitaker were staying in.
"Still can't hold your liquor?" Esmond smirked.
"I've been drinking since…" Qrow looked at the watch on his wrist that wasn't there. "Forever ago," he bumbled. He looked past Esmond, and at Whitaker. "Sup, kid."
Witt wasn't sure how to respond to that. "Hi." He waved.
"Why didn't you go to Beacon?"
"Because I didn't want to."
Qrow's eyes narrowed. "Too good for it?"
Witt rolled his eyes. "I'm attending next year, idiot."
Qrow leaned back, accepting the answer. "Alright. Where's the Dust?"
After showing Qrow the location of the warehouse, Witt and Esmond took a Bullhead back to Vale.
"Good job." Esmond patted Whitaker on his shoulder. "You saved a lot of lives today, Whitaker. You should be proud. This is what being a Huntsman is all about."
"Thanks, Dad."
Esmond smiled at him. "Don't thank me. It was your plan and your swift execution. I was just a member of your team."
"Exactly," Whitaker countered with a grin of his own. "You were a member of my team. Thank you."
[;]
The Bullhead arrived in Patch mostly on time. A man with short, beach blonde hair wearing a tan vest with maroon collars smiled as Esmond and Whitaker exited the Bullhead, luggage in tow.
"Glad you made it safely!" Taiyang Xiao Long shook Esmond's hand earnestly. He grinned at Witt. "And you must be Esmond's son, Whitaker?"
Whitaker nodded, shaking the older man's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Xiao Long."
"Please, just call me Taiyang." He smiled. "I'll go into 'teacher-mode' if you call me Mr. Xiao Long."
"Okay."
"Tai," Esmond interjected. "What do you need us to do?"
The man's face darkened immediately. "Something we need to discuss in private. Come with me."
Esmond and Whitaker followed Tai all the way from the landing pad to a small log house in the middle of a forest. Whitaker had only grown up in the middle of a metropolitan city, so seeing how much smaller Patch was compared to Vale was disorienting. Even the largest shopping center in Patch could barely compare to Pharos Academy. But over the last half year, Whitaker had grown used to small settlements and towns. One thing he didn't envy though, was the constant fear of an attack by the Grimm.
As Whitaker, Esmond, and Taiyang sped out of the center of Patch and into the forest, Esmond spoke up.
"What's the situation, Tai?"
"I'll talk about it once we're at home."
Some ten minutes later, the forest cleared, revealing a large wooden house. It had two floors and a small shed to its side. Taiyang parked the car in front of the shed and unlocked the door to the house. "You two can just leave your stuff at the front."
Taiyang led them into the kitchen and pointed at the dining table. "Have a seat. I'll get some water." He reached up into a cupboard and produced three homemade mugs. They had crude but adorable drawings on the sides of them. After filling them with water, Tai placed them in front of Esmond and Whitaker before also taking a seat. Whitaker inspected the mug with a stick-figure drawing of a woman in red wielding a sword in one hand, and a miniature version of herself in the other.
Whitaker smiled softly at the image.
"I'll cut straight to the chase," Taiyang said, resting his elbows on the table. "I need you both to cover for Qrow while he's out on a mission for Ozpin."
"You want us to teach?!" Whitaker could hardly believe it. Tai, the whole ride to his house, had been feeding them complete bull about the dangers of the assignment they were called to Patch for.
"Teaching is serious business, alright? If current Huntsmen and Huntresses don't teach the younger generation, the people won't have anyone to defend them." Esmond looked at Esmond. "You didn't tell him? I gambled when I said that 'the mission was extremely dangerous.' I thought you two were just humoring me."
Esmond smirked. "I didn't tell him a thing."
"Wow. Somehow, you're crueler than me."
"Oh, please."
"It's true." Taiyang grinned. "Don't think I've forgotten the prank you pulled on Qrow."
Esmond laughed and slapped the table. "Gods, those poor girls—"
"What are we teaching? Who? Where?"
Taiyang chuckled. "Relax, Lil' Ash. You two are just gonna cover for Qrow while he's out on a mission. He does most of the combat classes at Signal." Taiyang leaned in. "I also want you to keep an eye on my kids, especially—"
The door flew open as a girl with wild, untamed blonde hair strode into the dining room with a grin that mirrored her father's. "We're home!"
"Yang," Taiyang finished with a sigh.
A red spiral flew into the house, and Whitaker snapped to action, six months of Huntsmen experiencing flowed through his body. In a swift motion, he unsheathed and split Lightning, activated his Semblance, and tracked the red blur as it traveled through the room, nearly knocking over the plant on the table.
It was a girl. His eyes followed hers and the girl's silver eyes widened.
Silver eyes.
"Witt!" Esmond shouted. "Stand down." He sighed. "Sorry, Tai, he can be jumpy."
"It's alright." Tai analyzed Witt's weapons. "Interesting weapon. What's it called?'
Whitaker sheathed the swords. "Lightning." He turned to the silver-eyed girl. "I'm sorry for drawing my weapon on you in your own house."
"Oh it's no problem." The girl grinned and rubbed the back of her head through her hood.
"So," the blonde girl began as she sat on the slate grey kitchen counter, "who are you guys?"
"They're covering for Uncle Qrow while he's out," Taiyang replied, crossing his arms.
The blonde turned to him."How old are you?"
"My name is Whitaker, and I'm seventeen."
"Whitaker." The girl repeated the name as if trying to remember it. "I'm Yang." She grinned. "Aren't you a little too young to be a Huntsman? Especially for teaching people our age?"
He shrugged. "I'm not exactly a Huntsman, and I'm pretty sure that I'll be more of a punching bag for my dad."
"You'll be teaching a few lessons too, but I'll make sure you're prepared." Esmond smiled. While Whitaker wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of being a teacher for people one or two years younger than him, it certainly beat staying home and being bored all day.
"Why aren't you attending Beacon? Did your application get denied? Or are you, like, a prodigy and you just graduated super early?" The small, silver-eyed girl asked in a rapid-fire manner. "Or are you just skipping Beacon entirely and—"
"Ruby—" Taiyang began.
"It's fine," interjected Witt. "I'm spending a year out on the field, trying to get an idea for life as a Huntsman. I'll be attending Beacon next year, so I've never applied or been to the campus."
"Oh…" Ruby drawled. "Do you like cookies—"
Taiyang suddenly stood up. "Okay! Wow! Look at the time! We should prepare some lunch for our guests, right girls?"
Yang grinned while Ruby frowned slightly— most likely at the prospect of not getting cookies rather than having to serve guests. While Yang and Ruby prepared something in the kitchen, Taiyang led the Ashes up the stairs.
The Xiao-Long home in comparison to the Ash home was certainly more cozy, if a little messy. The top of the stairs extended into a hallway. At the end of the hallway was a small table filled with framed pictures of Taiyang, Yang, and Ruby.
"This one is where you two will be staying," Taiyang said, waving a hand toward one of the three doors in the hallway. He pointed to the door opposite Whitaker and Esmond's room. "This is the girls' room." Then he pointed to the last door near the top of the stairs. "And that's my room." The blonde man smiled. "Bathroom is downstairs, first door on the left from the stairway. I'll go make some lunch. Make yourself at home."
"Thank you, Tai," Esmond said.
"Don't mention it." He gave Whitaker and Esmond a thumbs-up paired with a grin before disappearing down the stairs.
Whitaker opened the door to him and his father's room. It was small, cozy, much like the rest of the house. A pair of twin beds rested on opposite sides of the room, and in between them was a window that overlooked the side of the house and a decent way into the forest that surrounded it. Beneath the window was a simple, wooden desk and chair. A four-drawer dresser was positioned at the foot of each bed.
Whitaker placed his luggage atop the bed nearest the door. "This one's mine." He opened up the luggage bag and fished out a pair of black sweats and a white t-shirt, as well as his toiletries. "I'll shower first?"
Esmond nodded. "After your shower, we'll discuss lesson plans with Tai. Make sure to keep the girls company."
Whitaker nodded. "Right. The girls."
Yang and Ruby.
Silver eyes, Whitaker said to himself once again. Not something you see often. The last silver-eyed warrior was—
Summer Rose.
Ruby. Rose..?
[;]
Whitaker stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The towel that Taiyang had given him was tied around his waist. Over the course of the last six months, his physique had changed from that of a boy who exercised often, to a young man with an… exceptional body. As it turned out, being a Hunter turned your body into a battle-ready machine. He grabbed the ends of his long, stark white hair and began to brush it. He'd neglected cutting it ever since he joined his father. So, here he was, having long hair as a young man.
He closed his eyes.
He could hardly remember the last time he was in a home. For the last five or so months, he'd spent most of his life camping, walking, scouting, or fighting— sometimes a combination of all four at the same time.
Whitaker missed showering. Desperately so. Managing long hair for months at a time without a shower? He would rather die than have to go through that again. The last time he could properly wash it was during his first mission in Verdant. He set down the brush with a sigh.
A knock sounded at the bathroom door.
"Are you almost done? I need to use the bathroom."
Ah. Right. Not my house. "Give me a second to put something on," Whitaker replied.
He quickly slid on his sweatpants and shirt, and tied his hair up in his usual ponytail. Hanging up his towel, he opened the door.
Whitaker came face-to-face with Yang who smiled.
"Thanks," she said. Her lilac eyes gleaming. It took all of Whitaker's willpower and discipline to keep his eyes on hers.
Whitaker nodded. "No worries. Sorry if I was in there for too long."
"Don't sweat it. I enjoy long showers too." She made a point to flick her luscious, well-managed blonde hair over her shoulder. "Anyways," she continued, and stepped past him and into the bathroom. "I'll see you around."
Yang shut the door, leaving Whitaker by himself in the hallway.
He let out a sigh.
Living with two girls for an extended period of time would be much harder than he believed. Worse yet, Yang seemed like the flirty type.
His mind drifted to another flirty individual.
Coco…
Whitaker wondered how she was doing now. He hadn't spoken to her in nearly half a year. Perhaps it was time to message her.
Wandering into the kitchen, Whitaker saw his father, Taiyang, and Ruby sitting around the table. A simple lunch consisting of bread, pork, and a bowl of warm soup rested atop the table. Esmond had his Scroll out on the table, a note-taking app visible on the screen.
"Go ahead and sit wherever, Witt," Taiyang said.
Whitaker opted to sit next to his father. Pulling up a chair, he stared at the plate of food before him.
"So, Ruby, I wanted to ask how Qrow usually runs his classes," Esmond began. "Just so I have an idea of what the students expect."
Wow, Dad's really taking this seriously. I should too, then.
The short, black-haired girl hummed. "Since it's combat class, he usually pairs us up and makes us spar. Sometimes, he'll have days where only a few students spar and everyone else watches. Uncle Qrow is pretty loose with the rules too, so some fights can get pretty brutal."
"Brutal how?" Esmond questioned further.
"Well, Uncle Qrow is all about 'realism' and stuff like that. So he'll sometimes make students fight past their aura being in the red. It's pretty rare though."
Esmond sighed.
"That's dangerous," Whitaker commented. "Especially for young Huntsmen-in-training who likely don't know the extent of their power."
Ruby tilted her head. "He's never had a serious injury happen in his class, though."
"That's fortunate for him." Esmond looked at Taiyang. "Did you know about this?"
The blonde man nodded slowly. "Although I did try and talk him out of it. He was as stubborn as ever."
"It's Branwen-certified stubbornness," Esmond said with a chuckle.
Taiyang smirked.
"What's up?" Yang said, her head leaning against the doorway into the kitchen. "What'cha guys talking about?"
"The… unique way your uncle teaches his class," Whitaker said.
"The dangerous way," Esmond corrected. "I'm surprised that no one thought to tell the other teachers at Signal."
Yang shrugged, taking a seat next to Ruby. "No one has ever gotten seriously injured. And it's good practice."
"Practice that hopefully none of you will ever need to use," Esmond said. "We're Huntsmen. We fight Grimm. Not humans or faunus."
"Then what's the point of sparring against each other at all?" Yang countered. "By what you're saying, we should just have Grimm hunting classes instead of combat classes."
Stubborn, confrontational, and temperamental. A bad mix, Whitaker analyzed. He cleared his throat. "It's a little more complicated than that. We protect the people of Vale, regardless if it means hunting Grimm of humans and faunus."
Yang crossed her arms. She nodded once. "What Gramps said."
"Gramps?" Whitaker asked.
"Your hair is white. And you're older than me."
"I…" Whitaker trailed off. "That's fair."
"Moving on," Taiyang said, clearly desperate to not make Yang any angrier. "Is that your only concern, Esmond? The danger of the class?"
"Yes," Esmond stated. "It's an easy enough thing to fix. We'll simply have the students fight only until their Aura reaches the red. In addition to that, we'll start doing paired fights to simulate having a partner, and later on in the semester, we'll have fights in groups of four."
"Good idea. A lot of the kids are trying to get into Beacon, so this will increase their chances."
Esmond nodded. "Exactly."
The conversation fell into a comfortable silence after that as they began to eat. Yang was the first to finish, followed by Ruby and Taiyang.
"It seems we're slow eaters," Esmond commented, glancing at the two girls as they left the room to go upstairs.
Whitaker shrugged. "At least it's not rations. I hate those things."
Taiyang's face soured at the mention of rations. "Vale-issued?"
Whitaker nodded once.
"Have they not changed since I was active?"
Esmond shook his head. "Unfortunately, they have not."
Just as Taiyang was about to speak, Yang burst into the kitchen. She was fully armed, dressed and ready for a fight. Two golden gauntlets wrapped around her hands and extended up to her forearm. On the underside, Whitaker could see red shells that surrounded the area where her wrist would be. Shotgun shells. Probably filled with fire Dust. She pointed a finger at Whitaker. "I want to spar you."
"Spar? Or fight," Whitaker asked, looking pointedly at the sheer extremity of her firepower.
The brawler brought her fists together and grinned. "Whichever makes you the most serious."
Whitaker looked to both Taiyang and Esmond. "Is it alright if I spar her?"
Both parents nodded.
"It was bound to happen eventually." Taiyang began to gather the dishes and place them into the sink. "Go get ready, I'll finish the dishes here, and then Esmond and I can monitor the spar."
Whitaker quickly finished the small amount of food left on his plate. He smirked at Yang as he walked past her. Needless to say, he was more than excited at the prospect of fighting her. Judging from how she carried herself and the weapons she used, Yang was a brawler, and most likely a fierce one at that.
And based off of her personality, she was going to be aggressive, push any advantage she saw, and fight relentlessly.
That was the thing about fighting Huntsmen. So much of their fighting style was based off of their identities— who they were, who they weren't, what they stood for, and what they hated— that it was, sometimes, easy to pick apart how they were going to fight despite never having faced them before.
And Whitaker was the same way.
He knew himself.
He was a calculating fighter. He thought his way through his problems as clearly as he could, and, because of his Semblance, was forced to take things slower. He was reactionary by nature. It was carved into his very soul.
Whitaker returned to the task of putting on his clothes.
He lifted his long-sleeve black shirt over his head and tucked it into the pants, then he adjusted his belt, securing his pants around his waist. His dark grey cloak hung inside the closet, the one gift he received from his mother before he left with his father for a year. He grabbed the cloak and draped it over his shoulders, buttoning it up. The right-hand side hung over his hands, while the left-hand side only covered his biceps and upward, leaving his forearm and hands exposed. Tying the black ribbons that hung from Lightning's sheath around his waist, Whitaker retrieved the blade from its case within his bag.
With a pleased sigh, Whitaker slid Lightning into its sheath.
Time to spar.
A small grin danced across the Huntsman's lips.
[;]
"Standard sparring rules apply: victory is achieved by forcing your opponent's Aura into the red, or knocking them out of the ring," Taiyang explained. "Out of the ring is determined by me and Esmond."
Whitaker stood about thirty feet from Yang, his hand already grasping the hilt of Lightning. His blonde opponent had a wide smile on her face, and her gauntleted hands tightened.
Standing behind Taiyang, her silver eyes wide and glancing between both Whitaker and Yang, was Ruby. She was dressed for a spar as well. Her… ruby red clothes and cape fluttered gently in the breeze, and a strange contraption was attached to the back of her hip. From what Whitaker could tell, it was extremely complex. One of those newer "mecha-shift" weapons. Coco had one.
A handbag that transformed itself into a minigun… Only her, Whitaker thought to himself. His attention turned back to Yang as she began to bounce on the balls of her feet. She threw out a few jabs. The blonde brawler was fast.
"Are you both ready?" Taiyang asked.
Whitaker nodded.
Yang gave her father a thumbs-up.
"On three, the fight will begin." Taiyang backed further away from the two fighters. "One…"
Whitaker glanced at his father. Esmond stared back intensely, his eyes narrowed as he watched Whitaker's every move.
"Two…"
Whitaker's hands clenched the hilt of Lightning. Yang crouched down ever so slightly. She brought up her gauntlets.
"Three."
In a burst of movement, Yang launched herself towards Whitaker. An aura of red surrounded her fist. With a howl, Yang punched Whitaker.
But the white-haired teen had already moved to the side.
Yang growled and threw another punch. And another. And another.
It was like attempting to punch wind. Whitaker flowed, smoothly, gracefully, between each attack— it was like his feet were barely touching the ground.
"Stand. Still!" Yang growled as she brought her fist back into a haymaker. Whitaker slipped beneath the powerful strike, ending up behind her.
The blonde brawler made an attempt to grapple Whitaker, he slipped through her fingers like water. The two fighters met eyes.
"How still is this for you?" Whitaker taunted.
Yang snarled, and her eyes flashed red. She flew into a furious rage, her attacks came fast and hard, and Whitaker knew that getting hit by even one of them would result in his instant loss. He may not have known the brawler's Semblance, but he figured it had something to do with her new eye color.
After nearly five minutes of non-stop attacking, Yang was beginning to grow tired. Her breathing was haggard and heavy. The red in her eyes bled away, returning to its normal lilac color.
Whitaker could tell she was near the end of her energy. And he hadn't even pulled out his weapon yet. He could finish her. With a single move he could—
"You're.. not even… fighting," Yang breathed.
"Ah," Whitaker said. In a flash, he unsheathed Lightning, the deep, ocean blue of the blade glinting in the afternoon sunlight. He raised the tip towards Yang, his head tilted, and a grin slowly widening across his face. Purposely making his voice deeper and more dramatic, he spoke. "Now am I fighting?"
Ruby squealed and clapped her hands, while Taiyang laughed uproariously.
Right. Not a real fight. Just a spar. Whitaker reminded himself. He looked back to Yang, who was standing with her hands on her knees, breathing heavily.
"Do you yield?" Whitaker asked.
"I…" Yang sighed. "Yeah. I surrender." She ungracefully plopped onto the ground, and let out a long groan. "Man, that was so lame! You didn't even attack me so I couldn't use my Semblance on you."
Ruby rushed over and sat next to her sister. "It's okay, Yang. White— I mean Whitaker's got a lot more experience fighting people than you."
The white-haired teen nodded. "I do." He looked at Ruby. "And I also go by Witt, if that's easier for you to say."
"Oh," Ruby flushed. "Uh. That works. Witt."
"Yeah, but I thought I would at least stand a chance," Yang complained. She pounded the ground with her gauntlets.
"Witt," Ruby began, "did you use your Semblance?"
Whitaker shook his head.
"Wow, so you were dodging all of her attacks super easily?"
"Ruby?!" Yang protested.
Witt rubbed the back of his head and laughed sheepishly. "Well, it helps that my Semblance also affects my natural reflexes."
"What is your Semblance?" Ruby asked, her silver sparkling with curiosity.
"I'll admit, I'm a little curious as well," Taiyang interjected. "You made Yang look like a complete novice with how you moved."
Whitaker sheathed Lightning. He shrugged. "I suppose it's better if I just show you?"
"That works," Taiyang said.
"Dad?" Whitaker asked.
Esmond shrugged. "It's your Semblance."
"Well, that settles it. Ruby," Witt said. "Your Semblance is speed, right?"
Ruby nodded. "I can go super fast."
"Then it'll be perfect for this test." Whitaker moved further away from Ruby. "I want you to attack me. As fast as you can."
"As fast as I…? Are you sure?" Ruby asked. A hand moved to the weapon she held at the back of her hips.
Whitaker nodded. "Have faith in me. And my Semblance."
"Okay, if you say so."
When Ruby unveiled her weapon in a rapid sequence of turning gears and shifting metal, Whitaker swallowed. He had not expected such a small girl to use such a big scythe. The red and black gunmetal on the scythe seemed to almost bleed anger, yet Ruby carried it with a wide smile on her face.
"Alright, I'm gonna attack you," Ruby said, as if she were making sure that she believed the words as well. "Really fast. As fast as I can."
Whitaker nodded enthusiastically. He had seen Ruby use her Semblance earlier, when she rushed into the kitchen and he thought she was an enemy of some sort. Even then, with his Semblance activated, she was a challenge to track.
If she could move even faster than that, then he had found the perfect person to spar against. Very few people could attack and defend faster than Whitaker could see, even his father, a renowned, well-trained Huntsman was slowing down.
"Ready?" Ruby asked.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Whitaker replied.
"Okay, here it comes." Ruby brought back the blade of her scythe. Her silver eyes closed.
An eternity passed in a moment.
And like a red bullet, the silver-eyed warrior bolted towards Whitaker, leaving behind a trail of roses.
Whitaker activated Reflex to its fullest extent. Electricity, lightning shot through him as the world slowed to a crawl.
Whitaker stared at Ruby as she sped towards him.
They locked eyes.
Cold blue met silver.
He could see Ruby's expression change from worry to pure and utter shock.
He could see the blade of the scythe, arcing down towards him.
Whitaker, moving like water through rocks, sidestepped the incoming strike.
He let out a breath, and loosened Reflex. Time returned to normal.
Whitaker looked back to Ruby, who was kneeling on the ground, the blade of her scythe stabbed deep into the ground.
"Ruby?" Whitaker asked, hesitantly. "Are you okay—"
"That. Was. AWESOME!" Moving like lightning, she returned her weapon back to its dormant form and dashed towards Whitaker. She looked up at him, silver eyes wide with intrigue. "I can't believe you saw me! No one's ever looked directly at me when I use my Semblance."
"Wait, wait," Taiyang suddenly interrupted, stepping towards the red and white duo. "You saw Ruby in her Semblance?"
"Yeah," Whitaker said. "My Semblance is called Reflex. And I'm sure you can guess what it does by now."
"Enhanced reflexes," Taiyang said. "Talk about strong."
Esmond snapped his fingers. "That's what I said."
"Did you tell him not to use it often?"
Esmond nodded once. "Of course. The last thing he needs to be is a—"
"One trick pony," both men said with a grimace.
Whitaker sweat-dropped. Something terrible must have happened to both of these guys. "Well, regardless, I haven't been using it often." He looked to Ruby. "If you don't mind, Ruby, could you be my sparring partner for the time I'll be here?" Whitaker moved closer to the girl, kneeling down slightly so he could reach her ear. "Everyone's really slow except you. So I'll need your help to get stronger," he whispered.
Ruby giggled. Then, she nodded. "Yeah, I'll spar with you as often as you want!"
"Wait, wait, what's going on here?" Yang asked. She glared at Whitaker. "Why aren't I invited?"
"Uh…" Whitaker trailed off. "Too slow?" He shrugged.
Yang scoffed. "Then train me to be faster."
Fair. An entirely fair point. Whitaker felt stupid for missing that. "Okay, when you put it that way, I don't see why not."
"Hold on," Taiyang said. "This Semblance of yours, does it work on multiple people?"
"I…" Whitaker's eyes widened. "I've actually never tried."
"Wait, seriously?" Yang asked. "You've never tried using your Semblance on more than one person? I find that hard to believe."
"It's never been necessary," Esmond interjected. "Nearly every fight Whitaker has participated in either resulted in him not needing his Semblance, or having to use his Semblance on only one combatant."
"Does it work on Grimm?" Ruby asked.
"Not exactly," Whitaker said. "When I use it on Grimm, it messes with my vision and my Aura. It's almost like I'm not supposed to use it on Grimm."
"That's…"
"Unfortunate? Awful? Terrible? It defeats the purpose of being a Huntsman?" Whitaker sighed.
"All of the above," commented Yang.
"It is what it is," Whitaker replied. "Destiny gave me this Semblance, so I shall use it to its fullest extent."
Esmond nodded. "Make the most out of your talents, regardless of how 'unfortunate' they seem to be."
Taiytang clapped his hands together excitedly. "So, are we going to see whether or not Whitaker can take on me and Esmond at the same time?"
[;]
"That's… not.. fair," Whitaker muttered from his position laying on the ground. His defeat was swift. And it came even faster when he realized that his Semblance did not work on more than a single combatant. In fact, it worked so poorly, that Whitaker felt his Aura drain when he tried it.
It also didn't help that he was going up against two experienced, trained, and full-fledged Huntsmen.
"Hah! You got your ass beat—"
"Yang!" Taiyang scolded. "Language."
The feisty girl immediately backed down. "Sorry, Dad."
Whitaker sat up. "Guess my Semblance doesn't do too well against more than one person."
Taiyang nodded.
Esmond hummed. "I saw your Aura flare when you tried to use it. What happened?"
"I think… it damaged my Aura."
"A Semblance that damages your Aura if it doesn't work?" Ruby repeated, belief shining in her silver eyes. "I've never heard of that."
"It might be a drawback due to how powerful it is naturally," Esmond attempted to explain. "Not sure how true that is, but, based on what we've seen, it's probably for the best that you don't use your Semblance on more than one person."
That, Whitaker could agree with. Ruby made a good point, but he found it hard to believe that his own Semblance damaged his Aura when he used it in such a manner. He expected it to not work… but that seemed a little extreme.
Like always, Whitaker ended up with more questions regarding Aura than answers.
"So," Yang offered. "What now?"
"Well," Esmond began, "Whitaker and I need to draw up some lesson plans for the class we're supposed to teach tomorrow. And for the rest of the semester should your uncle's mission take longer than expected." He smiled at Yang and Ruby. "Unfortunately, that means you two girls are gonna have to leave. Can't have my own students getting an early look at class activities after all."
Ruby frowned, and Yang sighed.
The blonde tilted her head, leaning more weight onto one leg than the other and resting a hand on her hip. "Fair. Well, Rubes, looks like we're gonna go play some video games!"
The frown on Ruby's face vanished instantly, replaced with a grin so wide that Whitaker could swear was breaking her face. "Yay!"
"Up-up-up," Taiyang interrupted just as the red-caped ball of energy was about to disappear. He looked all-too excited to have some free time. "We're gonna spar. Yang, you need to work on your stamina, and Ruby… well, you could always use more practice."
"But Dad—"
"But nothing," Taiyang said with a grin. He placed a hand on both girls' shoulders. "Let's go!" He turned his head back to the two other boys and grinned. "I'll see you two at dinner."
Whitaker and Esmond looked at each other. Then, they both chuckled.
"They're an interesting bunch," Whitaker said.
"That they are."
"And Ruby has—"
"Silver eyes," Esmond finished. "Yes."
"Is she…?" Whitaker trailed off.
"Summer's daughter?"
Whitaker nodded. He bit his lip, already knowing the answer.
"Yes," Esmond murmured. "She is the daughter of Summer Rose."
"She's strong," Whitaker said. "Very strong. It's even more impressive given she's—"
"Three years younger than you."
"Three? I thought she was Yang's age."
Esmond shook his head. "She's fifteen. And she's swinging that scythe around like it's a dagger."
"That's…"
"The power of her silver eyes."
"It's more than that," Whitaker protested.
Esmond raised a brow at Whitaker.
"You can attribute it to her silver eyes," Whitaker said. "But it's also her willpower, her determination, and her motivation."
"Do you see yourself in her?" Esmond asked.
Wow. Dad really goes straight for the jugular.
Whitaker chuckled. "I guess I do. But I'm too young to be saying that. I'm not that much older than her, either."
"I suppose so." Esmond crossed his arms. "She concerns me, however."
Whitaker's brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Rather, I am concerned for her," Esmond began. "It's not often you see a silver-eyed warrior, and more than that, it's not often you see a silver-eyed warrior with such a strong mix of determination, talent, passion, and loyalty."
"Wasn't Summer Rose…?"
"Summer Rose was good," Esmond said. "Very, very good. But not even she mastered a scythe at fifteen."
"Ruby only threw out one swing," Whitaker said. "And it was at a target waiting to be struck."
"But she did not hold back." Esmond turned to face Whitaker fully. "Do you know what I saw, when she attacked you?"
Whitaker shook his head.
"She moved too fast for my eye to track. I only saw the petals she left behind."
Whitaker's eyes widened. For his own father to track… "That's…"
"She's a prodigy, Whitaker," Esmond said. "Only once in a hundred years does someone that talented show up."
"Isn't that a good thing?"
"It is as long as someone guides her, protects her, and teaches her the right things," Esmond explained, staring straight into Whitaker's eyes.
"You've gotta be kidding me."
"Whitaker," Esmond began, "I'm not asking you to manipulate her to do your bidding. I'm not asking you to wax poetry, or discuss philosophy with a fifteen year-old girl."
Esmond pointed towards the small girl currently watching her sister and father spar. A small smile danced across her lips. She bobbed her head along to a non-existent rhythm, her fingers tapping the black sleeves of her dress.
"I'm asking you to be her friend," Esmond said, finality in his voice.
"I…"
"Whitaker." Esmond placed a hand on Whitaker's shoulder. "I understand your desire to be a Huntsman, to use your talents to their fullest potential. But that should not take away from your youth. Do not lose yourself in this journey. You may be a Huntsman, or a Huntsman-in-training. But before that, before anything else, you are Whitaker Ash. A seventeen year-old boy."
Whitaker swallowed. His throat felt taught, coarse, as if someone had made him swallow a bucket full of sand. "But…" The protest died on his lips.
Esmond released his hold on him. "Whitaker. When was the last time you relaxed?"
"I don't know."
"The last time you played a game on your Scroll?"
"I don't remember."
"The last time you talked to someone while we weren't on a mission?"
Whitaker shrugged. With each question, he attempted to make himself smaller and smaller.
"Whitaker, you've been working. Ceaselessly. For the last three and a half years." Esmond sighed. "It's partially my fault that you had to work so hard. And I apologize for that. But take a moment to breathe, a moment to reflect on what you've accomplished, the good you've done. More importantly, take a break. Use this time we have in Patch to take things a little slower." A small grin crept up on his face. "And maybe talk to some girls while you're at it."
"And here I thought we were genuine heart-to-heart."
Esmond shrugged. "I genuinely meant it."
Whitaker hummed.
"Did you message Coco?"
"I haven't."
"Not once?"
Whitaker shook his head.
"Why not?"
"Because…" Whitaker trailed off. He tried to find the right words for it. "I guess it's that I'm not really sure how I feel about her. She's a great friend. Talented. Strong. Funny. I'm just not sure if I can picture her as… someone like that."
"Then move on," Esmond stated.
"What?"
"Just move on," Esmond repeated. "Tell her that you'd rather stay as friends, and then go from there."
"But— but she's been waiting almost a full year for—"
"Then you apologize for that." Esmond sighed. "Whitaker, you don't have to commit yourself to Coco if you don't think it's going to work out. There are plenty of fish in the sea."
"I've heard that too many times."
"Because it's true," Esmond emphasized.
"But what about you and mom? You chased her for years."
Esmond waved his hand dismissively. "A moot point. Your mom and I are a special case. Coco isn't the only girl out there, you know that." He pointed once again to the two girls sparring. "I'm not saying that you have to pursue Ruby or Yang, it's just an example."
"Right."
"Think about it, Whitaker."
"About dating someone?"
His father rolled his eyes. "I meant taking time to yourself. Maybe join Ruby and Yang when they play their game."
"I…" Whitaker let out a breath. "Right."
Esmond clapped his shoulder. "C'mon, I need to use you as a punching bag."
"Why?!"
"Lesson planning."
Great.
As Whitaker followed behind his father, he frowned slightly. His father was right. He hadn't rested, he hadn't taken a moment to breathe for nearly four years.
"Whitaker," Esmond called. "Are you coming?" He asked.
"Yes," Whitaker replied. He smiled. "I'll be there soon."
Taking in the fresh scent of grass, feeling the soft breeze that eased its way through the woods and through his clothes, Whitaker inhaled deeply. His muscles loosened. A weight lifted itself from his shoulders.
His entire body ached. It felt like he'd just spent hours upon hours on end exercising.
And for the first time in years, Whitaker breathed.
Thank you for reading. Please don't expect updates to be this fast all the time. This chapter was already mostly written. I have a few more chapters that have been pre-written, but the next chapter is completely blank. Expect a week to two weeks until my next update.
Thank you to everyone who left a review from PROLOGUE - PHAROS
delgrave - Thank you for reviewing. As for the silver eyes, its powers are slightly different from canon, but the ability for silver-eyed warriors to kill Grimm instantly is known. It'd be hard to not notice that, after all.
4-Skywalker - Thank you, I try to make sure that there are as little spelling/grammar errors as possible. As I said above, expect a chapter every week or two weeks. It really depends on how long I think the chapter needs to be. And I'm happy that the reference document helped.
King Gai - It'll be an interesting meeting for sure.
Please leave a review with your thoughts. They really motivate me to write more!
