22. Holiday 01. Midsummer Festival Part 2
Holiday chapters- where real holidays are adapted for Remnant.
Midsummer morning, Night Market entrance
If anything, the Midsummer Festival became even livelier on the second day. The people of Vale have gotten into the swing of things, and poured into the festival grounds nonstop. Today, the party started in the early morning, and has only gotten bigger from there.
Hiding from the burning rays of sunlight, clad in jeans and a white partly-unbuttoned shirt with his blue tie set loose around his neck, Jaune stood under the same main gates of yesterday, two massive pillars in red and gold, with painted dragons wrapping around their length. An ornate archway roof sat on top, intricate designs depicting mythical creatures and fairy tale characters-
"Jaune, over here!"
Finally! He had been staring at those pillars for close to half an hour.
His teachers sashayed their way over to the entrance gate, stopping before him. Try as he might, his eyes flicked down and back up. A glance at their surroundings showed he wasn't the only one gawping.
To beat the summer heat, Melanie wore a white crop blouse with long balloon-sleeves, tied at the front by its sweetheart neckline. A smooth tummy lead to short shorts and legs encased in long white boots, leaving a gap of bare thighs.
At her side, Miltia opted for a cowl halter top in red, backless and showing off her arms, with bangles on her wrists. Calf-length jeans hugged her curves, ending in a pair of gladiator sandals.
Seeing them at the center of attention, he felt quite under-dressed in his shirt, jeans, and sneakers.
"Hey, you~"
"Were you waiting long, gopher?"
Tongue-tied, he mumbled.
"Um, just for a bit…"
Dammit, stop staring and say something!
If he told Melanie and Miltia that they looked really pretty, how would they take it?
On the one hand, the sisters complained enough about the pests that liked to gather around them, and he'd prefer to not be added to the list of nuisances. On the other hand, Melanie and Miltia looked like they put a lot effort into this. Maybe they would appreciate a compliment?
Ha! They'll scoff, more like. Club-goers told them such praises on a near daily basis. He could imagine them asking why he was stating the obvious.
No. You're not smooth enough for that, Jaune.
Sighing, he shook his head free of dumb thoughts and turned to the crowds of people stretching to the horizon.
"S-so, where are we going first?" Miltia tilted her head, hands set on her hips.
"This is your show, disciple. You're, like, treating us today." Melanie, arms crossed now, frowned.
"Jaaaaune. Did you have nothing planned?"
He winced at her disapproval.
Should he have prepared beforehand? Jaune came here fully expecting Melanie and Miltia to take the lead. The twins were headstrong at the best of time, and knew what they liked. Any plans he might have made stood the chance of total derailment in the first minute. Having lived here far longer than him, they saw Vale and the Market as their playground. For Jaune, resident of Vale for all of two months, this festival was a mystery.
He was used to following them. From their faces, that won't cut it today.
Just a day of fun, they said. Not a test, they said. Jaune can feel his stock plummeting as the moment stretched.
Running his eyes over the stalls, Jaune searched for something that might catch their fancy. His first instinct was to go for the clothing booths, an instinct quickly dismissed. The garments available here ran on the basic side of things, t-shirts with the words 'Midsummer Festival' printed in the center and such like. The style and quality failed to measure up to Melanie's and Miltia's usual standards.
The twins had their fill of fashion yesterday, anyways, coming back with a veritable mountain of shopping bags. In fact, the outfits they wore today might be brand new.
The sisters truly had been expecting compliments, weren't they? Oh, dammit.
Clothes were out, then. So too were souvenirs, not that he'd cross them off the list altogether. Browsing for those made more sense later in the afternoon, so they won't have to walk around all day with their hands full.
Experiences. What his teachers would enjoy most were the experiences of a festival. That meant events that stimulated the senses, like food and games. Food first, some light fares to tide the three over as they delved deeper into the market. Games after, where their competitive streaks would hopefully cover the shortfall in his lack of planning for a few hours.
A shooting stall, perhaps? The game with the water balloons might stain their clothes, making that a poor choice. He'd avoid the pyramid toss. Yesterday's cheating vendor has soured that particular game.
A vendor in a kimono caught his eyes and, upon seeing the stall full of Mistralian imports behind her, Jaune recanted everything he said about souvenirs.
Forget the childish games, the festival brought all manners of goods to Vale, and he could see the twins appreciating one of those hand fans hanging on a decorative folding screen. Unless one of the fashion boutiques got it in their head to feature a 'Traditional Mistral' collection of some kind yesterday, this should be a rare type of accessory. Namely, one that Melanie and Miltia have not bought yet.
These were no mere keepsakes, to be purchased and lugged around as dead weight. The fans came in a multitude of colors, their material ranging from paper to wood to lace to silk. Carrying a variety of designs, some showed a duo of dragon and tiger circling one another, and some had flowers or trees, yet others went for calligraphy. A strange fan depicted various sushi dishes, and made his stomach rumbled.
The wide selection would allow Melanie and Miltia to browse to suit their taste. Easy to carry, and very functional on this hot summer's day, the right fan can enhance the clothes they wore. Fashionable, with a hint of class, the motion of fanning oneself drew the eyes. A perfect item for showing off to passerby.
The twins will love it.
As for food, Jaune swept his eyes along the road, noting the various meals and snacks available. If he knew his teachers, then they'd want a cliché, a dish that screamed 'festival food' so they can take a few pictures to post online.
Fried noodles, shaved ice, hot dogs, corn.
Too heavy, too light, too meaty, too simple. Hmm…what in the world is a takoyaki?
"What in the world is a takoyaki?"
"Ooh, where?" Melanie whirled around, hopping on her toes to look over the festival-goers. "I love those!"
Distraction, success! That didn't answer his question, though. He glanced at Miltia, whose disgruntled expression softened.
"Takoyaki is a Mistralian snack that you tend to see at festivals like these," She explain, "It's batter shaped into, like, a ball and filled with diced-up octopus. They cook it in this weird iron griddle with molds for each ball. Melanie and I used to eat them at, like, every festival we go to."
"How do they taste?"
"Hmmm, it's not easy to describe, you know?" Glance. "I haven't had any in a while, either, so my memory might be wrong~" Glance.
Jaune could take a hint. He directed their attention to the food stall.
"I'm pretty sure we can all agree on takoyaki? I'm curious to see how they're made, myself."
"Hell, yeah!" Melanie pumped a fist, eager to set out. Miltia, on the hand, bit her lips in a coy look.
"You can't buy us off with food, Jaune." Hearing that, Melanie resumed crossing her arms. Miltia continued. "It was too obvious a choice, and we're not that easy. I hope you have better things lined up?"
Grinning, he pointed out the imports vendor.
"How about we go to that stall first, then?" He faltered. "Um, I think that a hand fan could match well. With your outfits, I meant."
Smooth delivery, fool.
His teachers scrutinized him, Melanie squinting critically, and Miltia tapping her chin with a finger. He could just see the little wheels spinning behind their eyes, weighing their ire and their desire.
As Miltia hinted, the dish on offer hit every note that they expected, a mix of deliciousness (presumably, from their reactions) and nostalgia. Good food, then include shopping, and this mirrored the start of the sisters' typical weekend outings.
An uninspired move, perhaps, but a winning one.
Melanie and Miltia shared a glance, and turned back to Jaune. They tried to keep the haughty attitudes, though he could see the corners of their lips twitching.
""Fine.""
The twins spun away. Noses in the air, they flounced off towards the hand fans display.
Their frowns have already turned to smiles.
-o-
"Watch out, it's hot."
So said Miltia, before stuffing a whole ball of piping-hot takoyaki in Jaune's mouth. A nibble broke the thin and crispy outer shell, releasing the heat trapped inside directly to the back of his throat. The gooey dough inside of the ball oozed onto his tongue, scorching all that it touched.
Tears sprang to his eyes. It burned. Oh, did it burn.
Jaune considered spitting out the takoyaki, but paused when he began to chew on the octopus. Its springy texture juxtaposed with the soft batter, forming an inconsistency that gave each bite a unique mouthfeel. The brown sauce and mayonnaise, the dough with the octopus meat, all combined in a rich savory taste that almost overwhelmed his palate until a subtle tinge of sweetness followed, drawn out all the more by how it contrasted the initial burst of flavor.
The sisters waited with bated breath, new fans in their hands. When he stayed silent, Melanie snapped her fan shut, and used it to poke his belly.
"So?"
"Eit's goof-" Jaune swallowed the takoyaki. "It's good!"
Two hands high-fived in front of his face.
"We knew you'd like it!"
"Takoyaki's the best, right?" Jaune nodded.
"Yeah. The flavor is strong, though. And there's this tanginess at the end?"
"That comes from the pickled ginger." Miltia speared a piece with her toothpick. "It cleanses the palate so the next bite has the same impact." Melanie plucked one for herself, and took on a lecturing tone.
"Festival snacks need to have that extra kick to draw in the customers. It's memorable, like, you'll come back for more because it stuck out in your mind. Powerful flavors, visual elements, all that."
Takoyaki certainly had both. Sauces, green onions, dried seaweed, ginger, and fish flakes, the cook piled on enough toppings to bury the eight octopus balls that made each portion. The onions added a dash of cooling freshness. The fish flakes, activated by the heat, had curled and danced when they were sprinkled on top. Set on a paper plate in the shape of a boat, the dish appeared full to bursting.
The trio had sprung for two orders, and Jaune walked along the stone path with a plate in each hand. By his sides, the twins fanned themselves with their new purchases, occasionally closing and unfurling the fans in smooth motions.
It has become somewhat of a competition between the two, twirling and tossing their fans in a series of increasingly intricate moves. Miltia held the advantage by dint of her fan's more elegant design, a spread of white and pink lotus flowers on a light red background with the fan leaves also forming the shape of a lotus. Melanie had opted for one that featured a school of koi fish on a white background, finding the fishies charming.
Sufficiently distracted by the food and a new game, they were content to flit from one stall to another, offering Jaune another takoyaki from time to time. The earlier tension eased away and the three fell back to the usual routine, made fresh by the new sights.
The peace couldn't last.
"Tch. What's the hold up?"
"Jaune, you're tall. See what's happening."
The crowd had thickened the deeper they went. Since all of Vale came out for the festivities, this was no surprise. What was odd was that with Uncle Hei's subordinates stationed throughout the festival ground, there should have been no big pile-ups or other such issues.
Like the figures brandishing swords up there.
"They're what!?"
"Yeah, swords, and I see a gun?" Jaune whispered urgently. "They have these skintight outfits and helmets on, each person a different color. A tall guy in red, another in blue. There's a pink one. I don't see anyone injured, yet."
It clicked for him when a green figure spread his arms wide to the sky in the shape of a 'V'.
"Wait, they're just posing! Mel, Mil, I don't think they're a dan-" Lowering his gaze, Jaune came face to face with two empty patch of air. "-ger."
Craning his neck this way and that, he caught sight of Melanie and Miltia blazing their way past the festival-goers, snaking a path towards the posers.
"Hey, wait for me!"
Takoyaki plates in hands, he followed the twins' path. Being bulkier than the lithe Malachites, Jaune faced a rougher journey through the ocean of Valeans. In the crushing throng of people, accidents were bound to happen. A hip checked a person here, sharp-toed shoes kicked an ankle there; he left a trail of tears and enmity in his wake.
A swift and silent shadow, he was not.
Still, the distance shrank. Once one let go of shame and threw elbows as they advanced, even the most stubborn of gawkers inevitably made way. He ate a fist or two but Aura kept him hearty and hale. With the power of a Huntsman(-to-be) on his side, nothing can stop him.
*crash*
Except that.
A large object had rammed into Jaune from a blindspot, bringing him to the ground. He felt a dull ache flare on his lower back and heard the sound of tearing fabric.
"Fu-"/"-uck!"
It had been a person who struck Jaune. A male by the voice. Rolling to the side, he shoved the clumsy oaf off his back, and turned to see a stocky man in his thirties in a similar position.
"Watch where you're going. We could have been trampled, dude." Jaune was met by a sneer.
"You dumb shit, do you know who-" The man choked on his spit mid-word. "I, oh fuck, uh-"
Seeing the anger replaced by the expression of a gaping fish, Jaune smirked.
"What, something on my face?"
The foul-mouthed idiot's eyes darted to the bluish wisps floating around Jaune's body.
Ahaha! Nothing shut a tough guy up like meeting an Aura-awakened person, the apex of toughness to a civilian. With it, one man bore the strength of ten, and a child can trounce an adult. The man's previous confidence vanished like the wind.
Those same eyes then dropped lower, and Jaune followed them to look down at his own shirt. His shirt, covered by sauce, fish flakes, ginger, onions, and five or so flattened pieces of takoyaki. He looked up at the sweating oaf that ruined his outfit, and growled.
"You're gonna pay for this."
In a smooth motion, without a word, the man flipped over and dove under the feet of the people behind him to crawl away at speed.
"Wait, I meant literally pay- dammit, he's gone."
His choice of words needed work. There went the money to replace his shirt, all because his demand was heard as a promise of violence. Jaune briefly considered giving chase to recover compensation, but that might well mean losing Melanie and Miltia in the crowd. With a huff, he got back on his feet and shuffled over to his teachers.
"Hey Jaune, where did you go? Nevermind, check it out." Melanie waved as he neared, and pointed at the colorful cast striking different stances. Next to her, Miltia snapped a picture with her scroll. "It's cosplay!"
"Cost what?"
"C-O-S-P-L-A-Y, it stands for costume play."
Miltia, eyes still on the posers, explained. "It's, like, people dressing up for fun." She turned to him, curious. "I thought a comic book nerd like you- what happened to your clothes!?"
Miltia's screech drew her sister's attention back to Jaune, and Melanie stared in horror as she finally noticed the stains on his front and the rip on the side.
"I picked out that shirt. Someone ruined that shirt. Gopher, lead me to the dead bastard." In answer, he raised his arms in a placating gesture, speaking in a soothing tone.
"It's was an accident. They're not worth it."
"They might not be, but that shirt sure was. Tell me you at least got some Lien for it."
Jaune winced, and the sisters grinded their teeth in unison.
"Look, this is a day for us to enjoy ourselves. Don't cut it short to go on a manhunt. Please?" He pointed towards the performance. "I'd rather hear more about cosplay. Back in my hometown, we dress up for Halloween but never for a Midsummer Festival."
He had also worn homemade superhero costumes to play make believe when younger, but he'd never tell them that. Though, that may be a better analog for what was taking place here.
The colorful, skintight outfits. The helmets that hid the face. He'd eat his tie if these men and women weren't dressed like superheroes of some kind.
Melanie glared balefully at his filthy clothes for a few more seconds, then grinned.
"Fine. We'll let the minions handle that task." Not quite what he meant, but this was the best he'll get. Giving a last ominous chuckle, Melanie pointed a thumb over her shoulders at the colorful group. "This isn't so much a festival thing as a hobby thing for cosplayers. I guess only the cities would have the facilities to host conventions, so you might not have seen this in Ansel."
Nope. He has heard of comic book conventions, but never attended one. The three hundred miles to Vale required an agonizing flight by Bullhead so, barring family trips, he mainly stuck close to home.
Though, there were a lot more than superhero cosplayers around. Some were dressed as characters he recognized from movies and shows, while others were in somewhat generic attires. Chosen Ones, villains, knights, cowboys, maids, and many more dotted the scene.
So many elaborate ensembles, and then there's him in the middle of it covered in sticky foodstuff.
"Pretty cool, huh, gopher?"
"Yeah…" He peeked down at his shirt again. "Hang around here for a bit? I'll gonna go buy a t-shirt or something. Maybe a pair of shorts, too."
Turning to leave, Jaune stopped when dainty hands wrapped around his arms. Poking her head over his shoulder, Miltia crooned into his ear.
"Jaune."
"…yes?"
On the opposite side, an identical voice sang.
"Jaune!"
"I'm here. What is it?"
"We have an idea."
"You'll love it, disciple."
Those mischievous grins did not bode well.
"There's a stall renting out costumes-"
"-and you're in need of something to wear. Ah ah ah, no running now." They cut off his escape attempt, holding his arms tight. Voices harmonized in tinkling laughter.
""Be obedient, 'kay?""
Costume rental store, thirty minutes later
Checking himself over in the mirror, Jaune admitted that this outfit wasn't bad. His worst fear was a costume like those so-called Rangers outside, where the material hugged the skin. Why do superheroes have to wear tights?
This, on the other hand, hung comfortably on his frame. If anything, its multiple layers may feel too thick once he stepped back in the sun.
First had come a plain white kimono, which the college-student clerk assured him had been malewear for the period. Jaune had then tucked the kimono in a loose pair of pleated gray pants, tightened with cloth straps attached on the sides. On top went a light blue jacket in the same Mistralian style that went down to his thigh, with the hem and sleeves trimmed by a row of white spikes that supposedly represented mountains by the clerk's explanation. On his feet were a pair of split-toed black socks, slipped into rope-like sandals.
When handing the garments over, the clerk said this was the uniform of a defunct police force that once patrolled Mistral's capital two hundred years ago. As he beheld himself in the mirror, Jaune thought it looked a bit like he was wearing a dress, the pants flaring out like a long skirt.
Well, it wouldn't be his first time.
"Are you asleep in there?" a sweet voice called. "You're, like, taking even longer than us."
"Don't be embarrassed, disciple, we won't laugh. Much."
How reassuring.
She said I was taking longer than them. Did that mean they are cosplaying, too?
If worse came to worse, he could laugh right back at them.
Pulling back the curtains, Jaune shielded his eyes from the sun's glare. As his vision returned, Jaune saw Melanie and Miltia before him.
His jaw dropped.
Miltia had donned a sleeveless black garment, the blouse opened slightly to accentuate her cleavage covered by a fishnet top, and a pair of black pants with openings around her thighs, pinched off at the knee by pair of split-toed socks similar to Jaune's, though noticeably thicker and serving as footwear by itself. A red sash wrapped around her waist, and arm straps held ninja throwing knives.
Melanie opted for a white strapless minidress showing off her back and shoulders, with hemlines in green and butterfly designs, along with pull-on sleeves. Her previous thigh-high boots covered her legs, and left a gap of porcelain skin with a band of throwing knives like her sister's on one leg. A green sash tied around her waist, ending in a large bow on her lower back.
The outfits were striking enough on their own, drawing eyes from the passerby and forming the start of an audience. Yet, it was a set of accessories they wore that attracted his undivided attention.
Atop their heads, large cat ears with plush black fur peeked out of their raven hair. An image of the twins meowing flashed through his mind, and left Jaune speechless in its wake.
Silence reigned between Jaune and his teachers until, in unison, all three shook their head furiously. Melanie coughed into a hand.
"Ahem. We thought we'd try on some costumes ourselves. So you wouldn't feel like the odd one out, you know? Like it?"
Tell them they outshined anyone else here, even the maids. That they looked gorgeous. That models paled in comparison. Tell them to keep the ears!
Jaune squeaked.
"Yes! I mean, -*cough*- you look good." Seeing their smiles fading, he spluttered. "I mean pretty! You two look really pretty." Miltia giggled as his gaze flicked above her head.
"Our eyes are down here." Melanie placed her hands on her hips, smirk evident.
"Are the cat ears what did it for you, gopher?"
"No!...yes." he admitted. "But not just that. You looked great in these costumes, and in the clothes from earlier, too." Emerald eyes narrowed.
"Oh? You didn't say that before."
"We thought you were ignoring us."
He was right, they had expected compliments!
"I-it's not easy to say things like that."
"Like what?"
"Words like… like pretty, or cute, or gorgeous, or se-" He clamped a hand over his runaway mouth. Taking a breath, he continued. "I didn't know how you would take it, then there wasn't a good opportunity after. Um. I'm sorry."
How do you compliment someone's looks? To laud one's skills or knowledge was a simple matter. To praise their character and insights, mere child's play. Yet, for the supposedly shallowest aspect of a person, for their outer appearance, one word of flattery can take far greater courage than even a superhero has for it was neither an objective or comparative measure, but a personal one. To praise a person's appearance implied that one carried a physical attraction for them, a prospect made all the more fraught if directed to one's friends. Teachers. Heroes. All of the above, and more.
To say it took confidence. More than he possessed, certainly. The twins had mercilessly mocked the Arc Charm when they first met him. Uncle Hei's lessons on the Xiong Allure assumed he already held a level of self-assurance. In the end, Jaune thought it was better to stay silent than to stutter his way through such awkward situations.
Maybe he was simply insecure, because Melanie and Miltia burst out in laughter.
"Dammit, gopher, we'll take the compliments because they're our dues. Look at us! Teacher's order, you are going to tell of our beauty to the world from now on."
"It's not a crime to find us attractive, you know? You're more likely to piss us off by not saying anything."
"You did piss us off earlier."
Chagrined, Jaune rubbed the back of his head.
"Sorry-"
"Ah ah ah, that's not what we want to hear." Melanie sauntered over, a teasing grin on her lips. "There's a prize if you say the right thing."
The words in his heart tumbled out.
"The cat ears look amazing on you girls. Seriously!" Her grin turned brittle. "And you're gorgeous."
"Haaaah…good save. Miltia?"
The short-haired twin grabbed a wakizashi resting on a table, and tossed it at him.
*smack*
The sheath slapped into his palm. It weighed quite a bit less than his usual knife, and sported a dragon motif running along the wood. He drew the wakizashi as Miltia spoke.
"You needed something to complete the ensemble, and only a sword would do."
Running a finger along the blade, he tested the edge. It cut like butter through steel.
As in, not at all. He grasped the tip and bent it back and forth.
"Rubber?"
"Yup! We can't wave live weapons about in a crowd of civilians, after all."
Next to Miltia, her sister pulled out a throwing knife.
"These kunai are made of rubber, too. See?" She wiggled it from side to side. "The important thing is that we look cool with them. C'mon, try out a pose for the crowd."
"Oh! Oh! Do the usual stance. But with a proud look, like you're above everyone."
Following Miltia's request, his stomach churning uncomfortably, Jaune set the back of the blade his right shoulder and faced the small group of spectators they've accumulated. Through half-lidded eyes, he looked down on them with pursed lips and a minute upward tilt to his chin.
In other words, he copied the expression often seen on the girls next to him, moments before they cut down a drunk would-be suitor in The Club with their scornful insults.
Scroll lights flashed from amidst the onlookers.
He held the pose for a few seconds more, a gradual blush overtaking his cheeks, then twisted around with his back to the crowd.
"That was way too embarrassing. I can't believe those cosplayers can keep this up for so long."
Posing in front of the gang was easy compared to this. At least his fellow mooks had to suffer the same ordeal. Melanie giggled at his flushed face.
"Don't say that. You looked dashing~."
"Really?"
"Like a confident young nobleman. Right, Mil?"
Said girl was wiping at the corner of her mouth.
"Hey, use a napkin, not your hand." He searched for some, and the clerk handed him a roll of paper towels. "Did you have some takoyaki sauce left on your lips?"
"It's nothing."
"Let me see."
He saw a dusting of red on her cheeks before Miltia's hand fan unfurled, covering his view. Giggling, Melanie grabbed his sleeves and pulled him away.
"Hehehe, let it go and come over here. I want a few pics of us."
She gave a clerk her scroll and, yanking Jaune along, struck a pose by his side. Raising one knee high, she arched her back and hid her lower face behind her own hand fan. Her sister appeared on his other side, turned sideways to show off her back and looking over her shoulder at the camera.
Their cameraman raised the scroll.
"Say cheese!"
"Ignore him. Make that face again."
"Sure thing, Mil."
-o-
"Don't look back, but I think we're being followed."
Jaune and Melanie whirled around, searching the crowd and quickly spotting three armed men. Hand on her forehead, Miltia mumbled.
"You two are as subtle as bricks."
"The last time I had my back to someone, I lost a shirt. It's not happening again."
Their pursuers, discovered, stepped out from among the festival-goers. Dressed in similar garb to Jaune, sans outer jacket, they each wielded a katana. Seeing the naked blades, the bystanders backed away, forming a clearing around which the flow of traffic circled. Yet, Jaune saw no signs of fear upon these spectators' faces, only excitement.
The man in the lead, gaunt-eyed and sporting a pencil mustache, pointed his blade at the trio.
"Leave the girls and be on your way, boy. This doesn't concern you."
"Oh. My. OUM!" Melanie squealed, her thrill evident as she hopped up and down. "They're doing a historical reenactment! I haven't seen this since back in Mistral. Gopher, you have to join." On his other side, Miltia clasped her hands together.
"It's just like Volume Four. Say something cool back to them. Please?"
This was not an attack, then. Just another festival or cosplay thing that Jaune never experienced until now.
Drawing on the samurai films he watched, Jaune extended one arm, wakizashi laying horizontal. The other arm grasped the hilt, and slowly unsheathed the blade.
Rather than a scraping of metal, the rubber squeaked against the scabbard. To cover for the lackluster sound effect, he loudly called out to the three men.
"You want them? Then, you'll have to go through me."
Thank you, every action movie ever.
The men looked to their leader for direction, who jerked his head towards Jaune. Two nods answered him, and the group advanced as one.
"Don't go overboard."
"I know, I know. I'll hold back."
Using the Huntsman training given by his teachers against ordinary civilians would end the fight in seconds, but that clearly was not the point of this event. Around the clearing, scrolls were raised at the ready, some with the blinking lights of a video being recorded.
The people wanted a show.
Jaune handed off the scabbard to Miltia and stepped ahead of the twins, knife on a shoulder. He stretched out his left arm, palm upturned and fingers extended. Then, curling back the fingers twice, he beckoned.
And the fight was on.
He ducked under the leader's first sword swing, and rolled to dodge his second. The man's partners attacked next, two overhead slashes that Jaune backed away from. They struck the ground, forming an 'X' with a clang.
Huh, that doesn't sound like rubber. Wood? Metal?
A part of him wanted to call foul. As far as they knew, he was an ordinary person and a metal prop can break a civilian's bones, blunted or not. Another part, the showman in him, realized the potential. Stepping on the spot the two blades intersected, Jaune pushed off to leap over the two minions.
Landing in a squat, feet together, he slowly stood up and looked at them over his shoulders. A careless pose, but a striking one that spoke of his nonchalance.
Amateur performer he may be, Aura allowed him a deceptive level of competence. Moreover, Melanie and Miltia fought at a higher realm of physicality, one he has breached as time went by. Standing amidst slower and weaker opponents, he could afford to take greater risks than these actors for the sake of appearance.
Scrolls flashed, and Jaune understood a bit of the reason why cosplayers enjoyed what they do.
Evading, pivoting, leaping, Jaune danced among his opponents. Their attacks were sharp, and they possessed a modicum of skill, but in close quarters the men got in each other's way and posed more danger to their friends than to him. Metal clubs will break their limbs, and more than once they had to dodge their own side.
Those became prime moments for Jaune to oblige the twins' wishes, posing this way and that for the scrolls.
The taller of the two subordinates attempted a lunge, sword extended. Had it been Miltia, she would have already speared him in the stomach. As it was, Jaune waited for the man to near, then pushed the blade aside with his palm. Readying his knife, he swung for his foe.
*whap*
The long, thick piece of rubber slapped the man's nose, clotheslining the samurai cosplayer. A red welt marked his face as he landed on his back, wind knocked out.
Whoops. He'll be fine. Probably.
"Raaaaah-"
With a bellow, the leader gripped his sword with both hands, raising it high.
Were all reenactments like this? These guys were a bit too serious about it. The metal sword, fake as it may be, can brain a man stone dead. The lunge earlier could have stabbed through a man if it hit a soft spot. And now, in his opponent's eyes, Jaune saw anger. Hate.
Killing intent.
The sword chopped down. The long knife rose up to meet it. Jaune's eyes glowed a blueish-white.
*Schwing*
A blade whirled through the air to impale itself in the earth. Its owner looked askance at the broken katana in his hand, before shifting his gaze to the intact toy wakizashi.
Covered with Aura, Jaune's rubber knife had become hard as a rock, and cleaved through the metal prop sword using the boosted strength of his arm.
Such was the intensity of the actors' leader that it fooled the blond into believing he was in danger. Seriously, he thought they were a couple of amateurs like him at first, but their performance conveyed a passion that surpassed the mundane reality. In the moment of that sword strike, the man was no mere cosplayer but had instead embraced the mindset of a real killer. A phenomenal act.
However, this event has gotten away from them all. Risking one's life for the arts should be a turn of phrase rather than be put into actual practice.
"Okay, I think this a good point to stop. We've both put on a good showing, and your friend is going to need an icepack. What do you say?"
Before the leader could answer, his remaining partner ran past him with a roar, set on a course for-
*BOFF*
The sound of a rubber hilt hitting a person was a weak, comical thud. When accompanied by an unconscious body sliding along the dirt, nobody laughed.
In Jaune's defense, the guy was running at the twins with his sword slashing wildly, by all appearance intent on murder. Even as an act, his enthusiastic swinging of the katana could have led to Melanie or Miltia being injured…or annoyed, at the very least.
The crowd largely disagreed with his action, and the majority booed Jaune for his brutality in a mock fight. Some have moved to the unconscious men's sides, tending to them. Others gathered around the troupe's leader to congratulate his performance, cutting off Jaune's chance to talk to him.
Melanie and Miltia only cared that he came out on top of the mock fight for their honor, and led the rest of the spectators in cheering for his victory.
Near noon, on a podium
[Contestant Arc. What, is the name of the only Valean combat school not located on Vale's mainland?]
Easy. Too easy.
"Signal Academy."
Or as he remembered it, the school he couldn't get into.
[Correct! Another 10 Points for Arc, but he's not out of the danger zone yet! Now, contestant…]
Jaune breathed a sigh of relief. Another round in which he survived. Half of the participants have been eliminated, and as long as he made the 10th place cutoff, he can advance to the next stage. Each question answered was a step closer to the grand prize. A step closer to Melanie's state-of-the-art, newest-model-not-yet-released, way-too-many-hyphens scroll.
…Why was he, and not Melanie, here again? It wasn't like he'd benefit.
[Bzzt. Incorrect. With that, contestant Adel lost 20 Points and is now at 0! Buh-bye, darling!]
"WHAT? That had to be right-, wait, don't you dare press tha-aaaaaah…*splash*"
Right, because of the penalty should they lose. Rather than risk her ninja costume and makeup being ruined by the drop into the pool, Melanie had volunteered him, disregarding the fact that he was in no way an intellectual of any sort. The proof can be found in the measly 20 points displayed behind him.
That Jaune clung on until now was a miracle of his abilities, and certainly not by her foresight. He had been jumping in and out of the 20-point mark for some time. A wrong answer to the next question would take him out of the contest like that previous participant, whatever her name was.
[Contestant Arc.]
Here we go. The moment of truth.
[Whaaaat…is Atlas's chief export to Vacuo by revenue?]
Dust! It could only be Dust, the substance being the sole reason everyone allowed that Kingdom to throw their weight around. Uncle Hei complained that Dust prices have always gone up and never down, so revenue likely grew higher throughout the years. What else would that frozen continent have that could make as much Lien?
"D-"
He bit down on his tongue, instincts screaming.
The obvious answer had to be a trap. The question could have stated 'chief export to the world' and the response would likely be Dust. Address the question to Vale or Mistral, and the answer should remain unchanged. In terms of revenue, nothing beats Dust.
It was also a catch-all term. He might as well have said gems or minerals for how broad the categories can get.
Break it down to specific types, and there's Fire, Water, Air, Earth, Ice, Combustion, etc. The list went on and on. Each type had their uses, their demand variable between the nations. Jaune could not say which, if any, would take the biggest share of a Kingdom's imports. He just finished secondary school for Oum's sake, economics wasn't in the curriculum.
The clue was in the Kingdom.
Something was special about Vacuo.
This must be the first time anyone has said that about Vacuo.
Mind firing on all cylinders, he reviewed all he knew of the western Kingdom. Which wasn't much.
As far as he knew, it was a Kingdom covered almost entirely by desert, with a significant part of their population living in nomadic settlements. The capital lacked much of the technology of its three counterparts.
The coasts played home to the best beach resorts on Remnant according to the twins, catering to those who can afford it. The rest of nation did not seem particularly rich from the news stories he had seen. Some necessities were always lacking, like… food?
No, Vale covered that niche, being the breadbasket provider for both Atlas and Vacuo, plus for Mistral to an extent. This had to be something only Atlas possessed in quantity, and Vacuo needed.
Eyes widened in an epiphany.
Vacuo has its oases to provide water, but what about cooling and freezing facilities? What did Atlas have in spades?
"Ice."
The city of Vale and Ansel took refrigeration technology for granted, but for a nomadic nation with a relatively underdeveloped capital and limited wealth, ice would have crucial uses in food preservation and personal consumption.
The rich might use expensive Ice Dust in bulk to freeze their spring water and get the purest ice, but everyone else who wanted it had the choice of natural or manufactured ice. Cheaper by far, though their production required either frozen lakes or factories as sources.
Vacuo wouldn't be a desert Kingdom if it had winter climates, and he had never heard it referred to as an industrial powerhouse. Of the rest, one specific Kingdom would have enough water sources and manufacturing plants to export ice to others, its name was Atlas.
Now, was he right, or should he have stuck with Dust?
Jaune braced himself for the fall.
[Correct. 10 Points. Next vict- I mean, contestant!]
Hahaha, he was right! The insular Kingdom of Atlas had Dust and a frozen wasteland going for them, and they've made a business of exporting both to the rest of the world.
Relaxing his posture, Jaune slumped against the dais. Off to his left, he heard the clack of a trapdoor opening, a scream, and a massive splash.
[And with Contestant Daichi in the water, we have our ten competitors for the next stage. A big congratulations to our frontrunner, Contestant Alistair, who took first place in our quiz show with 270 Points!]
Humiliating difference in points aside, the important thing was his advancement to the next round. He now stood one step closer to Melanie's prize. On a more immediate note, the rental outfit remained pristine, safe from the depredation of chemically-treated pool water.
[…besides said vouchers, you will also enjoy the prize of not being dunked in the Pool of Doom. Lucky you!]
Ah, he spoke too soon.
Nine trapdoors dropped free. Nine people cursed and screamed. Gravity took hold, dumping Jaune on a steep slide whereupon he shot down at the water like a bullet.
Aura can't save him from this.
There goes the rental deposit.
*SPLASH*x9
-o-
"Good job, gopher. You were fantastic!"
"I thought the answer to your last question, like, had to be Dust."
"Same, right? We made a good choice sending Jaune out there."
Wringing water out of his blue jacket, Jaune puffed up his chest.
"Yes, yes, praise me more. With this, I can safely say that I now qualify as an intellectual. What do you think?" Miltia snorted.
"You started with 100, and ended with 30. I heard that's a failing grade in normal schools."
"Nothing about this was normal. As far as I'm concerned, anything above zero is passing and I'm in the top ten of this class. A resounding success by every measure." He scrutinized the jacket. It was still too damp. "Shame that my clothes are soaked, though. That cosplay club won't be happy."
"Pheh, that's easily solved." Miltia waved dismissively. Pointing her fan at him, she ordered. "Buy the costume."
Melanie clapped her hands at her sisters' solution.
"Good idea. They had prices listed, didn't they?"
"Let's not. I've seen the prices, too, and it's expensive. Besides, it's not like I'm going to wear it again." The sisters squawked in unison.
"You've got a ton of Lien from yesterday. Just buy it, you cheapskate!"
"If you don't, we will."
Melanie made that promise sound like a threat, cracking her knuckles.
"You can wear it for Halloween. Or sooner." Miltia sidled close, eyelashes fluttering. "Please?"
Knowing that they'll pester him without rest, Jaune raised his hands in surrender. Call it determination, call it being spoiled princesses, his teachers had a hundred methods to get their way. After two months as their student, he was an expert by now at spotting which battles can be won against them, and which will end in defeat.
This one? Futile effort. The batting eyelashes usually came out when they were serious.
Delighted, the sisters unfurled their hand fans to cover their victorious smiles in the way of the court ladies of ancient Mistral, seemingly elegant yet oozing with smugness. Or rather, the court ladies of period dramas depicting ancient Mistral. He knew exactly which show they were copying, too.
Sighing, he went back to observing the stage for hints of the next event. If it turned out to be another test of knowledge then, despite his boasting, Jaune was out of luck.
As if reading his mind, Melanie squeezed his hand in reassurance.
"We're familiar with this style of contests. The last one was academics-based, so the next has to be a physical competition of some kind." Miltia chimed in.
"It gets boring for the crowd otherwise, and the organizers know that. They'll go for something action-packed. Brawn over brains."
"You're way better at that."
"Oi!"
The twins cackled at his glare.
"Like, we meant that in a good way. You've got this."
Any further retorts were cut off by the banging of drums, and the host marched onto the newly-set stage between the bleachers. Unlike before, his face was serious. The somber air around him diffused throughout the crowd. One by one, the spectators fell silent.
The drums took on a martial beat, raising the tension as the host directed his piercing stare from one side of the bleachers to the other.
Then, he lifted the microphone to his lips. Softly, he spoke, his whisper amplified to reach every corner.
[We mortals have always had our grievances with each other. In Kingdoms like Mantle and Mistral, they expected their people to simply swallow their anger. In Vacuo, they advocated beating each other bloody.
In Vale, the most passionate of all Kingdoms, we found our own method to address wrongs and slights. A method that endured until the reign of the last king of Vale, the Warrior King.
Dueling.
Across a field, two foes would meet. For honor, they will clash. One walks away. One does not. Duels were ever a grand Valean tradition.
The practice may have fallen out of favor, but such duels as the one in which the Mayor of Orleans decapitated Knight Ozelot went down in the annals of history as some of Vale's greatest moments. And some of its most entertaining.]
Jaune could take a hint when it got up and dance in his face like so.
Duels, was it?
As the host said, Vale did not actually have those anymore, though Jaune's history teachers in school told of them being weekly or even daily occurrences in centuries past. At the zenith of its popularity, too many important people were killing each other left and right for the Kingdom to properly function. The Warrior King, contrary to his name, was said to be particularly critical of the practice, and pushed for its abolishment as part of his reforms after the Great War.
Which meant that the people of Vale no longer dueled.
That suited Jaune perfectly.
All it boiled down to was combat by swords. If training with his teachers in the long knife can be considered comparable to such (and it was in his mind), then he had experience in this. Best case scenario, he had the most experience in this out of everyone in the running. Considering some of the scores in the quiz portion, Jaune placed good odds for half of the contenders to be the scholarly types or, if not, civilians with the time to learn trivia rather than people dedicating all their days to martial skills.
As for those less academically-inclined with similar scores to him… well, civilians far outnumbered warriors. What were the chances that they'd be sword fighters?
A fierce grin overtook his countenance.
He's got this.
On the stage, an assistant (in a two piece swimsuit, a very important detail) sashayed over to the host, a small chest in her hands.
(…The wooden container variety, that was. The other type of chests was not in her hands, nor were they diminutive by any measu-, not relevant. Jaune refocused on the event taking place onstage.)
She lifted the latch, and pulled back the lid to reveal a button, large in size and colored a bright red.
The host waited a beat, his whole attention focused on the sight before him. A trembling hand reached out, and he slapped it down on the big, red button. The stage came alive with activity.
Spotlights swept across the arena, as fog billowed from the stage's center. A mechanical whine hummed in the ears of all present. It was followed by a pillar rising from the floor. As it gradually lifted, the four sides revealed clock faces. The thin second hand on each circle moved in a smooth revolution.
A countdown timer would be more dramatic, in Jaune's opinion. Looking at the clock which, gasp!, was telling the current time, he felt little more than confusion. The scratching of heads among the audience suggested he was not the only one.
Next, a glass case embedded in the pillar emerged, its content reflecting the light. It took a moment for Jaune to recognize the items within the case. Sporting a silvery finish and polished to a shine, two revolvers sat on display, crossed in an 'X'.
The clock struck 12:00.
[IT'S HIIIIGH NOON! And we'll be having ourselves a showdown!
Duels may have gone out of style, but there's one place where the tradition lived on. Ten contestants will compete in a single-elimination tournament with revolvers modeled after those used during the Frontier Era.
Should we breathe a sigh of relief or weep in anguish that these lethal beauties came into being after Vale abolished honor duels?
With participants like these, I'd say both. Don't worry, they are paintball replicas. Get ready, Contestants!]
Jaune's grin cracked. One of his eye twitched.
I don't got this.
-o-
Amidst the cheering and jeering of the crowd, Jaune made out two voices.
"Whooooo, get that bitch in the face, Jaune!"
"Guns are easy, just point and shoot!"
He knew that was true, in theory. Everyone said that firearms were big step up in power from crossbows and swords, and a big step down in operational skill. Furthermore, while it seemed outwardly realistic, the toy replica in the holster on his hips rendered the matter of cocking the hammer or reloading entirely moot. He can just draw the paintball gun, point, and fire. Easy.
Again, in theory. Because he has never held a gun. And despite the bravado with which they shouted advices to him, he never saw Melanie and Miltia wielding one before either.
"Those friends of yours have no idea what they're talking about, do they?"
Jaune flinched, then stretched his lips wide in a fake smile.
"They are quite adept, I assure you. And so am I."
His opponent, a girl with short blond hair wearing a red ribbon and a denim dress, quirked an eyebrow. It very much conveyed her doubt at both statements.
Her eyes flicked down to his feet, rose to his hips where the revolver sat, roamed over his stiff expression, and took in the sight of sweat pouring down Jaune's face.
She smirked.
"Against a bona fide gunslinger like you, I supposed I must take this seriously and get in a proper stance. My name is Oakley. Just a visitor from the western settlements, here for the holidays."
"I'm Jaune Arc, of Ansel." When in doubt, double down. "And by tonight, I won't even remember your name."
Really, he won't. If the nameless mooks of the Club had no chance, why would this girl?
His words failed to rattle her confidence, the amused light in her eyes never waning. She stood in a simple stance, feet shoulder-width apart. A hand hovered over the butt of the gun by her hip, with her elbow raised high. The classic cowboy pose, and despite what she said, it had not wavered an inch for the past minute.
He shifted his feet wider, and lifted his elbow to mirror her, which earned him an approving nod.
"Better. There's hope for you yet."
Okay. She was sure enough of her victory that she would take the time to teach her opponent. What a power move.
That did not mean he will give up here. Huntsmen and Huntresses trended towards a distinctive kind of fashion, and Oakley's outfit screamed civilian. Chances were good that she had no Aura. Therein lay Jaune's last hope, his Aura having passively enhanced his speed.
He would actively boost this speed, too, but for the people watching. Distracting the vendor yesterday was an easy endeavor, but doing the same to hundreds of people was another matter.
Jaune, as he was, had to be enough.
[I never thought I would see it happen, ladies and gentlemen, but we have a real-life Samurai vs. Cowgirl match. Contestant Oakley, are you ready?]
Oakley nodded.
[Contestant Arc, are you ready?]
Nope.
Jaune nodded.
[On one, my count. Ten. Nine. Eight.]
His hand twitched, partly from nerves and partly to confirm one final time the path from his hand to the gun. Oakley remained motionless.
[Seven. Six. Five. Four.]
A bead of sweat slid past his brow and down his cheek. As the countdown continued, the smile on Oakley's face faded into a blank expression. She was all focus, now, and the complete lack of emotion unnerved Jaune more than her previous confidence did. The phrase 'stone cold' came to mind.
[Three. Two. One!]
His hand drew the revolver in a smooth motion. Barrel aimed center mass, he unloaded all six shots in quick succession!
The first shot struck the wrist…of the host, who yelped and dropped his microphone.
The second shot splattered…a bit of water in the pool used for the previous event, located behind Oakley.
The third bullet hit right between the eyes…of a woman standing behind Melanie and Miltia. Not expecting the impact, the woman's head snapped back, the dark camera-thing in her hand dropping to the ground as she clawed at her paint-covered eyes. The sisters had been in the bleachers situated to Jaune's right side.
The fourth he lost track of from the moment it left the barrel, but a soft ping coming from the clock pillar and a grunt from a security guard on the edge of the arena suggested a ricochet.
The fifth burst into a pink smear on the ground between him and Oakley.
The sixth never exited the revolver, possibly jammed due to the speed at which he fired.
…Well, that could have gone better.
Open-mouthed and wide-eyed, Oakley gaped like a fish. Jaune imagined that most of the spectators sported the same look. Seeing that her hand has not moved, he met her gaze.
"Aren't you going to, uh, take a shot?"
His opponent shook herself out of her stupor. An amused smile returned.
"Oh? I thought I did."
What could she mean by that? She never moved, her hand hovering over the butt of her revolver, the other on her hip.
Silence reigned as sweat trickled down his face.
Sweat, and something else. Jaune raised a shaking hand to his forehead. His fingers came away stained in pink.
No.
"Im…pos...sible-"
His knees hit the stage floor. Eyes locked with Oakley's, he slowly toppled forward. The last thing he saw before darkness took him was the self-satisfied grin of the gunslinger.
[And the samurai fell to the cowgirl! Let's take a look at the playback because I did not see her fire. Slow it down, even slower aaaand… there! Holy Oum, her hand's moving like this video is playing at double speed. I think we have a top contender in Ms. Oakley here, who advances to the next round.
And a big applause for the cinematic sequence at the end by Contestant Arc. Have you ever held a gun before?]
Jaune popped up to his feet with a sheepish smile, a hand rubbing the back of his head. Internally, he cheered. The performance had bled off the impact of his abysmal gunplay.
"Haha, nope. Uh, did it show?"
[Boy, did it ever. You still can't top my first time, but that's a story I'll take to my grave. A fine showing, though, and you've got an entertainer's soul so I hope to see you back here next year. For your consolation prize, we have vouchers for some of our festival's finest food stands including A Simple Meat on a Skewer.
A Simple Meat on a Skewer: Don't bother haggling, it's worth the price.
Now, for our next match Contestant Elmore Evans versus…]
Shaking hands with Oakley, Jaune made his way off the stage.
-o-
Jaune rejoined Melanie and Miltia outside the tournament grounds. The first thing he did was to present the vouchers as an offering.
It was a trick Uncle Hei taught, showing gifts first to soften the apology that came after.
"Sorry. I couldn't get the grand prize." Melanie rolled her eyes, snatching the book of vouchers from him.
"Puh-lease, we knew it was a longshot."
"Though we didn't expect the contest to actually involve a long shot." Miltia looked inordinately proud of her pun. "We'd have to take you to a gun range one of these days to let you get some practice with firearms." She leaned forward, whispering. "Truth is, we've only ever tried using them once. They're too noisy and way too lethal for the people we normally beat up."
Their nonchalance took him aback. He expected a petulant Melanie, who can sulk for hours. Instead, the sisters were paying more attention to the vouchers than they did his failure.
On the one hand, yay, they weren't sad! On the other hand, did they have no expectations of him? A twinge of hurt prompted his question.
"Hey, Mel, Mil? Aren't you…disappointed that I failed?"
They shared a look, and strutted over to him. Melanie pulled him into a side hug, and Miltia opened her scroll.
An index finger swiped the screen, and he saw himself on a podium, whooping with arms raised. Another swipe showed him treading water, laughing. The next few were of the three of them in the intermission. Then, a picture of him on stage dressed like a samurai and posing like a cowboy.
Unbidden, he snorted at the sight. From the outside, it had looked too silly.
Next to him, Melanie chuckled.
"We got what we wanted."
"Sis would have bought a new scroll next year, anyways." Miltia flicked through a few more pictures. "Memories last longer."
Red-cheeked, Melanie flipped off her sister.
"Ignore her, gopher. Where do we go next?"
"It's about time for lunch, if you two are hungry?" Two nods decided their next activity. "Then, uh, I'm not sure how long you girls want to stay here…"
A flyer was pressed into his face. Taking it from his teachers, he skimmed through what turned out to be an itinerary of the festival's major events, a few jumping out to his eyes.
Vale's Annual Midsummer Festival Schedule
July 7
Opening Ceremony 11:00 AM
XXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXX
1st Day Tournament 3:00 PM
XXXXX XXX XXXXXX
Firework show 11:30PM
~MF~
July 8
XXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
2nd Day Tournament 10:00 AM
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Scavenger Hunt 3:00 PM
Firework show 11:30PM
XXXXXX XXXXXXXX
~MF~
July 9
3rd Day Tournament 10:00 AM
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Beauty Contest 1:00 PM
XXXXXXXXXX XXXXX XXXXXXXX
Bonfire Dance 9:00PM
Firework show 11:30PM
Melanie pointed to one line, tapping it for emphasis.
"We skipped the fireworks display yesterday. I'm so not gonna miss it tonight." Miltia chimed in.
"The scavenger hunt is mainly for children. It does free up the game booths for us, unless you want to leave the market and come back later?"
They had about ten hours left before the fireworks show. The games might occupy their attention for a few hours, but even then, that was a lot of time. Miltia made a good point, and Jaune pounced on it.
"I like that idea. How about we keep checking out the festival until five o'clock, then leave for dinner at a restaurant? We can come back once night falls."
"Hmm, not bad, not bad." Melanie tapped her chin with a finger. "They'll break out the drinks once the kids are gone, too." Her lips quirked. "You're entering the drinking competition, gopher."
The twins laughed as his face paled.
"That's for later. Your masters are starving."
"Your job right now is to find us lunch. Onwards, Jaune!"
Together, the trio joined the festivities once more.
Later
Soooo, what do you think, Mil?
He made so many mistakes! Everything was, like, out of order. And he ruined his clothes. Twice!
You were happy it happened, don't lie. Drooling all over his cosplay like that~
Shut up, Mel. It was a good look. Classy. Yummy. What about you?
He needs work, like, a lot of work. But he's trainable.
Pft. We knew that.
All in all, not bad for a first try.
Yup, yup.
Author's Notes: This was supposed to be a short chapter. This…date? Not-date? Considering future events already written, don't expect any Remnant-shaking revelations for Jaune during the summer. Guy's got a long way to go.
3rd day will likely never get a chapter. Rather than revisit this again and again, we'll have other events in the future.
Jaune in Shinsengumi uniform.
Kunoichi Miltia in reskinned Jigokuraku Yuzuriha outfit with addons
Kunoichi Melanie in reskinned DOA Ayane outfit with addons
This was the day of the "July 8th Incident", if you missed the clue in the last scene. An interception in a crowd, a duel, and a miracle shot. Three assassination attempts that were shown, untold numbers that were not, all foiled by a heretofore unknown face in the underworld. Though, Jaune won't know that yet. Or ever.
To make time for The Agent's 3rd chapter, an early start on the Halloween chapter, and a one shot idea for later, the next chapter will be back to normal length. Definitely. Maybe.