Chapter 9: Sunday Morning Sidewalk

"Never interrupt your enemy when they are making a mistake."

Forever Fall really was beautiful in a way that could have never been showcased in the show. The landscape looked almost alien. Sure, there were the standard trees, grass, and hills, but the vibrant shade of red that covered the entire forest was almost ethereal. He had assumed it would have been just constantly looking like it was autumn, as the name implied. He had never been more glad to be wrong.

He had elected not to spend all his time with his team collecting some stupid sap. Instead, before the trip, he packed a small lunch and a bottle of some more expensive whiskey, then asked Sky to pick up some extra sap for him in exchange for a favor.

He had shown up just long enough to answer roll call and then slinked away into the forest, found a nice clearing, and sat down against a tree. Honestly, the most challenging part of this was convincing his team to leave him alone for however long the trip lasted. It wasn't an easy sell, not with the lasting remnants of the damage done to him being revealed: a slightly crooked nose and minor scarring around his right eye. But even they could tell their constant presence was starting to grate on him a bit.

Of course, because he's Robin, he could never have nice things, apparently. He heard the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind. Probably, it was his team coming to check in on him.

"Robin?" A voice asked—a female voice. There weren't any girls on his team. In fact, he was vaguely sure all the girls in the school hated him for various reasons.

He jumped to his feet, bottle in hand. "Jesus Christ! Who is it?! I'm armed with expensive alcohol!"

"Who's Jesus?" The voice asked.

"Some carpenter who died like a hundred years ago," He said with blasphemous disinterest, killing that line of discussion before it could take off. He brought it up; that was his mistake. Another thing he didn't want to dwell on. Not yet. Not till he was able to make peace with his own maker.

Once he managed to stand and turn fully, his eyes registered who was approaching him. Two midgets, one in red, one in white, an angry blonde, and CRWBY's barely disguised catgirl fetish. Oh, this was going to be his whole fucking year, wasn't it?

"Come on, Yang, it was barely fair last time; now you just entirely stacking the deck in ya girls favor." Robin frowned.

Ruby hastily stepped in front of her team, frantically waving her arms. "No, no. We aren't here to fight. We are here to talk."

Robin remained unconvinced. "That's how it started last time also. Then I ended up with a fist in my face." He said, entirely leaving out how he had goaded her into the fight.

Yang then stepped forward. "We-no, I am here to talk. For real this time."

"Then why is the rest of your posse here?" Robin jerked a finger at the three girls behind Yang.

"They are here to watch. For me. To make sure I do the right thing." She spoke slowly like the admission almost hurt.

Robin eyed them warily but eventually relented. "I am entirely too sober for this, but alright. Speak your piece."

"Blake said she saw you talking to Miss Goodwitch, that she looked at your wounds, but you didn't tell her what happened. I just got one question. I need to know. Why?" Yang said.

"Why?" Robin raised an eyebrow.

"Why keep it secret? Why not tell her? I certainly would have." She asked.

"I did it for myself," Robin said simply.

The answer seemed to spark confusion, not just in Yang but the entire team. "What?" Yang asked.

"I didn't stutter, did I?" Robin vaguely held his hands out. "Let's not get things twisted. I ain't do it for you." Not entirely, at least went unsaid. "I don't want to hold it over your head for blackmail or whatever shit. I did it for me."

Relief was clear as day on Yang's face at his words, but confusion still remained in her voice as she spoke. "I just... Why? How does this help you at all?"

Robin sighed and leaned backward against a tree. He shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked up at the canopy. Vibrant red leaves, some of which gently fell to the ground. "Right, lemme just clear the air. Think of me as a shitty person. That's fine. Place whatever bullshit expectations ya got on me. Whatever. Blame me for things that ain't my problem. Get angry when you insult me, and I insult you back. That's all gucci."

He looked back down, locking eyes. "But I want you to know something. I don't do a damn thing for you. I do what I do for me. I ain't doing this for satisfaction, either. I'm doing this to be better than the me of yesterday. Ain't nothing more to it than that. I do not give a single iota of a fuck if you believe it or not. I'm an ugly man, but that's between me and God. And no one else."

Silence reigned in the clearing after his words. Yang frowned during the long silence, then gave a slight nod. "I can't exactly say that sits right, y'know? But I suppose I should thank you anyway."

Robin laughed, long and hoarse. "Don't mention it. Seriously, don't. Far as it matters to me, I just want to go back to being strangers who Goodwitch occasionally forces to kick the shit out of each other."

Yang gave a nod during another silence. Team RWBY came to the conclusion their business was done here, and most walked off.

"It was nice meeting you! Again!" Ruby spoke as she walked away.

Yang lingered for but a moment, something akin to curiosity in her eyes, before she followed her team. Suddenly, Robin was left alone in the clearing. He looked down at his things. He might as well enjoy whatever was left of his time on the trip. His legs carried him deeper into the forest, with him reaching down to pick up his bottle as he did so.

-2-

However, yet again, the universe decided to make him its personal punching bag. Sometime later, still wandering the forest, he heard noise from even further into the woods. Voices, voices that shouldn't be there given all of the students and teachers were supposed to be behind him.

A sane man might not investigate the strange noises in the Grimm-filled forest. A rational man might have notified the teachers and backed off. But Robin wasn't exactly ready to go back and start dealing with the minutiae of classes again just yet. So, in light of this realization, Robin took the executive decision to keep walking forward and go say hi to the neighbors.

It didn't take him long to come across the source of the noise: a camp in the middle of the woods. Nothing strange on its own, but the dozen people milling around armed, moving crates of something, and the White Fang masks sort of ruined any pretense of something innocent going on. Unfortunately for him, however, he didn't exactly make his approach stealthy, leaving him with about a dozen armed folks staring at him. It might be best to try and ease the tension.

"So uh, real nice camping trip y'all got going on here," Robin spoke, wandering a bit closer to the camp and the goons. Who seemed to react like an angry beehive at his mere presence. Pulling clubs, axes, and even a goddamn pitchfork in the case of one.

The one with the pitchfork spoke, his mask failing to cover the rather prominent dog ears he possessed. "Yeah, a camping trip. Move along, human." His voice was flat, but one would have to be deaf to miss the emphasis he put on the word human.

Robin sighed and crossed his arms. "Okay, yeah, I was gonna just not do anything, but then you had to go and be rude. Not happening anymore. This right here? Feels like something very illegal is going on. And that gives me the Huntsman right to punch at least one of you in the face."

Wait a minute, wasn't he supposed to be defusing tensions? His words most certainly defused nothing as the group of goons tensed up even further. Robin let his aura begin to seep into his body. Infusing muscle and bone with whatever weird soul gunk aura is. He looked at the group. The mere fact he had aura made this whole encounter punching down, like his 'fight' with Yang, except now he's Yang, and there are a half dozen Robins. Wow, that analogy fell apart quick.

He shook his head, amping himself up and trying to get his thoughts in order. No aura meant no sword allowed. He didn't exactly want to kill anyone. His eyes went down to the whiskey bottle in his hand. Yeah, that'll do. He flipped it so he was holding it by the neck.

"Anyone up to making this easier on me and rushing in one at a time?" He asked the group.

Their only response was battle cries of varying effectiveness as they charged forward. One sounded vaguely like a chihuahua trying to howl. Was it racist that he thought that? He didn't exactly have much time to consider that as they closed.

He tensed every muscle as they got within striking distance and all but leaped forward with a swing. The whiskey bottle slammed into the forehead of the dog-eared faunus with the pitchfork, who crumpled in an instant.

However, he didn't have time to admire his handiwork. Pain exploded across his back as one of the grunts broke their club across his back. He turned, aura having blocked the injury but not the pain, and grabbed him by the collar, slamming the bottle into his face, one, twice, and then a third time as it shattered across the man's jaw; he swiftly collapsed after Robin let go of him and turned to face a new threat.

Two more grunts struck at him, and both connected as he stepped forward, pushing through the pain, grabbing them by their hair, and slamming their heads together.

They collided with a sickening crunch. That might leave some lasting damage, he thought with a wince.

Still, he had no time to continue to think about the lasting damage as he reached to the ground, hurriedly trying to pick up a weapon of some sort. Finally, his hands grabbed onto something, and he swung hard at the nearest foe, just in time to recognize his new weapon of choice to be a fallen branch.

The branch cracked across the head of a grunt who had a large narwhal horn on his head, the wood getting stuck onto the horn. Still, Robin held on. Every muscle and tendon in his arms sang in distress as he dragged the branch, the poor faunus still attached into the ground. He lashed out with his leg, kicking the horned man in the face.

The crack of a weapon firing split the air as several bullets broke against his aura. Robin snapped upright, turning to face the new threat.

"Time out!" He shouted, and to his surprise, they actually listened. One man even stopped midswing.

He jerked a finger at the masked woman holding a pistol. Her mask seemed to be roughly shaped like a Nevermore's head. "Do you have any idea how rude that was? I'm over here, being as non-lethal as possible, and you go and pull a gun."

She spoke, her voice light. "You have aura, though, that makes it basically allowed to shoot at you."

"Yeah, for normal huntsmen. I'm just a poor little student. I could have just called in the teachers around here, and they wouldn't have been anywhere as nice as me." Robin whined.

"I'm pretty sure you gave Terry brain damage." She pointed a finger at the dog faunus who had charged in first. Slowly, the rest of the goons that were still up began to move toward her—taking up positions near her.

"Terry probably already had brain damage." He said.

A short silence reigned. "Yeah, I'd believe that." She finally said. "Still kind of a dick move, though. That's probably why people hate you."

"How in fucks name do you know that?" Robin asked.

Her response was a Cheshire grin. "What can I say? I'm a big fan of reading what's in front of me. Oh, by the way, you may want to deal with that Ursa coming up behind you."

"The Ursa coming up behind-" He was cut off as a massive paw slammed into his side, sending him flying away into a nearby tree.

It took him a moment to recover as he lay against the tree. However, he lifted his head in time to see the White Fang group running away and the Ursa rapidly approaching him. He stood, drawing his sword as he did so. He didn't have to worry about accidentally murdering a Grimm because, well, it wouldn't be accidental.

As it approached, he lowered himself into something barely resembling a combat stance, resisting his urge to do something. Let it swing first, he thought, then dodge and counter. Simple enough to think, but much harder to actually do. The Ursa moved forward, slowly at first but then quickly picking up speed. How in the hell can something that big move that fast? His eyes tracked its entire misbegotten form, searching, waiting for any opening for him to act and utterly destroy it.

Finally, it swung down with both of its paws, intent on crushing Robin into the ground. He narrowly stepped to the side and swung, his sword cutting deep into its left limb, between its scattered bone plates, but it didn't go all the way through. It was supposed to go all the way through, goddamnit.

He hastily tore his sword out and dived to the ground just in time to avoid its maw turning him into its midday meal. It limped toward him, its wound hampering it.

To his surprise, it seemed to suddenly power through the wound like it wasn't there, launching itself forward in a massive lunge. Blood roared in his ears as he stabbed forward, catching it mid-lunge in its exposed underbelly.

However, it still wasn't down, using its weight and momentum to pin him down and knock his sword from his hand. His left arm flashed up to narrowly prevent it from taking a bite out of his head, instead allowing it to chomp down on his arm. His aura coated the limb, preventing it from being chewed off, but he could still feel every tooth and the pressure of it trying to tear it off.

He reached down to his leg with his free hand, where his pistol lay holstered. He couldn't aim or do any fancy tricks. Only point it upwards at the belly of the Ursa and pull the trigger. Six loud shots rang out from the hand cannon until it was empty.

The Ursa's grip on his arm weakened until the creature collapsed limply, right on top of him. With a mighty heave, he pushed the beast off of him to the side, where it began to fade.

That was sloppy, and his left arm throbbed with pain. He looked down to see the sleeve of his coat torn and his arm bleeding in places. It wouldn't kill him, but it fucked up his coat and hurt like a bitch. All the more reason to do better in the future.

He picked up and reholstered his weapons. Now time to find out what the fuck the Fang were doing in the middle of Forever Fall. He walked into the camp, noting this was likely a more long-term operation. Tents occasionally dotted the grounds, but actual cabins had been built up, and a large cabin that looked like some form of storage area.

One cabin was slightly larger than the rest, most likely the Nevermore lady's place. Thank God for people in charge who are unable to contain their egos. He walked to the storage area first. He could find out whatever they were doing here in there.

He walked over and entered the large log storage area, and his eyes widened as he looked around the room. One side was dominated by what he could assume were standard goods, supplies, dust, weapons, etc. But the other half of the warehouse? Cages lined the wall, most of which were empty, but a few contained Grimm, mostly Beowolves and the occasional Ursa.

He pulled his scroll from his pocket and started dialing the Cardin immediately. He needed to make sure the school learned about this.

Note: RAAAH, action, plot development, and character stuff. The train is now running folks, as always call out any mistakes you see, hope you enjoy and have a wonderful day!