Sorry this came out a day late. Was sick around the weekend.


Clothes watching and parental talking. All things considered, nothing good comes out from being rushed. If there was a day away from the investigation, it was certainly that day now.

[Chapter Six - Respite]

Hei went one way and he another. Roman walked out of the restaurant to see… no one. Well, at least no one important. Neo had taken the kids for ice cream. The place was only a short walk, he only needed to walk down half a block down there. Hell, if you squint you could just see the place's sign from here.

But Roman found his legs unwilling to travel there for now. Instead, he turned right and crossed to the other avenue. There was something less of a park and more a street corner that almost fit the description of one, with trees and grass, benches and tables, the one thing it doesn't have is size; just a little corner where anyone could sit down and rest for a while.

And so Roman sat there, relighting his remaining cigar. Perhaps, he thought, just to rest for a while. To recuperate. Think. What is it with Ion? What was there to explain his fixation with the boy? Relatability? They were both like a nutmeg cut in half—different, yet obviously similar—or at the very least they are in this specific context, and the comparison ends there.

With a sigh, he took off his hat and placed it on his lap.

Roman also didn't remember his parents… Hell, he'd say he didn't even get to know them; Roman was somehow younger than Ion is when he and Mabel were abandoned in a roadside cafe on the inter-county highway. The latter of which was also the only one out of the siblings to try finding their folks again and to no avail at that, but that's beside the point.

Once again, what was it? The satisfaction of reuniting the boy with the family that clearly doesn't want—or allegedly can't have—him? Or was it the desire to hold Ion's parents accountable? They were both something that Roman himself failed at with his parents, may their souls rot. So perhaps, he reasoned, it was a bit of both. If so, it is self-satisfaction then. But at this point does that really matter?

Maybe, he thought, it was what the future held for the boy. Roman went in and out of the system, from the orphanage to foster parents. Repeat. The same could be said about Mabel, and sometimes they were even separated. But at the end of the day, they both would run away or cause enough problems to be returned to 12 New Mews, Southwest Prospero, Special Capital Area; the orphanage they called home; the orphanage they met Neo; the orphanage where all three of them planned their first crime together, one that set them on the path that led to today and everything in between.

Ah, wonderful, now he's gone off on a tangent. So as to not go on a mental tangent, he decided to not think of anything. A meditation of sorts. Completely clear mind. Roman wasn't sure why, but entering such a state always reminds him of when he was just Sergeant Torchwick, 5th Regiment, Royal Marines.

Not the gritty sort of memory. Not about the cracking bullets, nor the screaming. Not the momentary ceasefires to take care of grimm. Not the Syndie artillery that came afterward and the drowned-out banter through hail of heavy shelling. Neither the living conditions during the three tours he was deployed to Vacuo. No.

Instead, it brings him back to somewhere in between all that; where it was just him with a battle rifle in one hand and binoculars in the other. As he sat just behind the crest of Hill 336, overlooking the seemingly endless barren only interrupted by the large oasis about four and a half kilometresaway. He's reminded of the biting cold breeze, strangely calming, as it hit his skin after a scorching hot day of fighting. How it moved dunes and blew dusty winds east. He's reminded of the uneven horizon that cut a line between the mustard-like desert and the clear skies that allowed faraway stars of blues and whites and reds and purples forming a cosmic cloud, big and small, to shine their brightest. To the left of that stunning discord, almost as big, was another formation of stars in a disc-like shape with layers of spiral arms. Merley, the scientists called it; sister galaxy to their own Bebop.

It was remarkable. Breathtaking. Every occasion always felt like the first for Roman. When the civil war in Vacuo ends, he's going to Hill 336 once more.

How long had he been sitting here… half an hour, perhaps, if his internal clock was still correct. Even his cigar was close to burning out and scorching his fingers, yet that wasn't what snapped him out of his trance. The buzz in his pocket did. He flipped open the device and saw a text notification:

Wr r u? It was all that Neo wrote. Roman smiled.

He buttoned in a quick response; walked down the block, crossed the avenue; he arrived at the more than familiar ice cream parlor, through its windows Roman could see the renegade four inside and quite possibly bothering a nevertheless content elderly man. Five people, actually. Roman's eyes stuck to the back of a black-haired faunus sulking in the far corner, away from everyone else.

The bell chimes as Roman entered, turning the heads of all its familiar occupants. "It's nine. Ain't it too early to be eating ice cream?" he mocked while walking to their table.

"Neo, you hearing this guy?" The woman only shook her head with a disapproving frown in response. "How you doin', sherbet?"

Roman rolled his eyes. "God, how old are you, Al?"

Al smiled as he turned back to the children. "I mean just look at him; doesn't it look like he's got a melting scoop of ice cream for hair? " They laughed at his joke. Except for Ion. Ion was a nice boy. Either that, or he's too occupied with his dairy… or clueless as usual… perhaps both.

Roman watched as the boy practically smeared the dessert around his lips; it was all three then…

"You know, Rome, this here's a weird kid you picked up," said Al as he scratched his head. "I mean, what kinda kid thinks that anything's too sweet?"

A snort was heard from the corner. "Everything's weird with that little freak, old man," jeered Isaiah before sipping his milkshake.

Al awkwardly scratched his head at the response, earning an apologetic smile from Roman. "Well, either way, I guess I got someone to test my froyo. The little thing's got a knack for sours!" He turned a grin to Ion. "Good, ain't it?"

The boy hummed as he joyfully placed another little spoonful in his mouth.

His eyes met Neo's. Roman placed a hand on her shoulder as he passed by and she gripped it back for a brief moment. Looks like she already talked to Isaiah, so now it was his turn.

Walking over to Isaiah's table, Roman smiled. "Hey, kid. Mind if I sit down?"

The boy only grunted before loudly slurping his milkshake through the straw; stopping once in a while, replaced by the faint conversation at the front bar before resuming. It was a state that they were, or at least Isaiah was, comfortable with for a while.

It was then that he pulled away from his drink. "Hey, Rome…"

"Yeah?"

"Sorry… about… earlier."

Roman twitched a smile, amused. "Temper, kid. Temper."

The ears atop his head folded. "I know, I know…"

"I also heard that something happened at school a few days ago…" Roman held back a snort as he watched Isaiah groan and threw a glare at the back of Neo's head. "What happened then?"

"I don't want to talk about it," the answer came immediately as Roman finished, and he simply stared at the boy; seemingly shrinking with every second passing.

"Isaiah…"

"It's just… just some girl. Okay?" he blurted out an answer, scratching behind one of his cat ears. "She was bothering me, pissing me off, and I kinda went at her. I didn't even touch her, you hear! Not a finger. I snapped at her, yelled at most."

The boy proceeded to go on a tangent about this girl from another class: bothering him before class, bothering him during break, bothering him in general, and Isaiah even made an offhand mention of how she brought him lunch—something that completely went over his head or something that completely annoyed him. Either way, It was hard not to feel a bit amused, and apparently Neo was, too, if the smirk she gave over the shoulder was any indication. Roman rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers, smiling. "I think she just likes you, kid."

The boy groaned, slouching. "Leave me alone. I already got enough of that from Neo after she chewed my ears out."

"That has to be the shortest chewing out in history then."

"Oh, it was longer than expected. I'll tell you that."

Roman smiled. He didn't tease the boy again, but he also didn't leave him alone. And just like that, the two began to naturally converse, with Roman asking and Isaiah answering in short, yet eager sentences. About his friend, what he's been up to the last few days; the boy particularly perking up at the mention of figure skating—that is to say "perking up" as much as Isaiah would.

"Well, anyway, I'm going to buy some clothes for Ion. You wanna tag along?"

Isaiah raised a brow. "You're actually keeping that mutt?"

Roman in turn mimicked him. "You make it sound like he's a stray animal—"

"Which he is," interrupted Isaiah and ignored by Roman.

"—but anyway, we won't know how long until we find his parents."

"You could always just ditch him in front of an orphanage or something…"

"Isaiah…" Roman warned. And Neo too, with her by the looks of it. Though the one from her went unnoticed by the boy.

"All right, all right! Fine." He threw his hands up before sliding out of the booth. "Whatever. I need new shirts too, anyway. But you're paying."

Roman scoffed playfully as he stood up. "You don't even have money." He walked over to the counter while Isaiah stood next to the door waiting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. With a clap and a smile, he addressed the girls and Ion: "So! Who wants to go clothes shopping?"

(-S.o.T-)

They had gotten a car booster seat for Ion. One of the twins' old ones installed to the SUV Roman has once again commandeered from Hei's garage next door. Good thing it's an automatic too, because after yesterday's traffic, his clutch foot was in agony—even if that's his healthy leg. And so it was he driving and Neo shotgun; the twins and Ion secured in the middle; and Isaiah, unsurprisingly, sulking at the back.

The latter whispered something, then laughed, before responding in another whisper to the space next to him. Everyone else had gotten used to it. It was normal. The rest of the drive was serene but with Melanie talking to Miltia and Miltia talking to Ion. Uneventful.

The main plan was to get Ion a couple days worth of clothes while Roman continue trying to make heads and tails of the situation. However, a more critical reason for Roman is how utterly disastrous the boy looked. A lot of the twins' old clothes—the tomboys they always are—fit Ion size wise, but the articles remained somewhat baggy and completely dreary. What was Hei thinking when he bought these years ago? It was even more ironic considering he was the one that taught Roman how to dress properly when they were young.

"Well, I never liked the colours, but they were comfy! Aren't ya comfy Ion?" commented Miltia. Bless the girl's heart.

Junior's inflamed fashion sense aside, a more pressing matter required Roman's complete attention at the moment: why the hell can't he find anything light blue that remotely goes with Ion's tone?

"Stay still for a second, buddy." The boy only whined at him, stepping away from the pair of shorts held by Roman.

Some might argue that they were just kids' clothes; some people are wrong. Some question him putting a Rabaine belt on a Bior; some people are wrong.

Ion pouted at the man, letting out a barely audible whine-growl. "No, no…!" he protested, crossing his arms to exaggerate.

"What's wrong with forest green?"

"Nuh-uh." The boy continued with a series of mumbles and hand gestures to object, and Roman could only roll his eyes in response.

"Oh, all right. Fine. You've made your point." He handed back the other bright coloured clothes that had been prepared to the clerk. "We really gotta fix that palette choice of yours. Bring out the more vibrant."

Ion looked down, a hand on his chin, before back up to Roman. "Ion no know what mean."

Once again Roman rolled his eyes, smiling. "Oh, nevermind." In the corner of his eyes, Neo managed to gain his attention with a pair of socks, shorts, and belt that matched well with Ion's skin tone. The shorts might be a little too big though from where he's seeing it. "Is that belt full grain?" Neo took a second look and another feel before nodding. "If there's a darker shade of red, take it. Here, buddy—" he ushered Ion over to Neo while proceeding to sit down— "why don't you go to Neo, she's got some stuff that might fit you." Roman has never seen a more intense, concentrated stare of pure hatred in the eyes of a two-year-old before—be it the ire directed at him or the crimson leather belt that Neo held—but Ion nevertheless complied with a huff, eliciting yet another eye roll from Roman.

The shopping trip certainly didn't feel that long for Roman, but they are well into the afternoon at this point—a good two hours into the session, maybe—and his tiny little companion and said tiny little companion's little energy must be taken into account here. Though if anything, Ion was seemingly just annoyed after the tenth shop and god knows how many sets of outfit. But despite the pout and sulk from before, Ion now was rather intrigued besides Melanie at two different shades of leather belts in Neo's hand, the woman kneeling down for the two to see better.

Just as the thought of Miltia's absence arose, Roman felt a tug on his trousers. "Uncle Roman?" There to his left was said little girl, almost beckoning him down.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Roman sat down on the pouffe, leaning to her slightly. "What's wrong?"

Her lips pursed into a flat line; thumbs tweedling around one another; Roman noticed her look of curiosity and concern as she looked at Isaiah down the aisle. "Is Isaiah okay?"

Puzzled, Roman brought his voice down to a whisper as Miltia did, smiling. "Of course he is, sweetheart. Why?"

"Is Isaiah still talking to Söze?"

The man blinked. "He does, Mil, sometimes." For a split second a frown formed on his lips before a smile returned. "Why, is that bothering you?"

Miltia quickly shook her head. "No I'm just worried, Uncle Roman. I thought Isaiah can't talk with Söze anymore."

Considerate as always, this girl, thought he. Roman hummed, "Well, he shouldn't talk with Söze if he can help it. But…"

"But…?"

"Well, you see, Mil—" Roman hefted the girl to sit on his right leg— "Söze is Isaiah's friend. A very important friend. You have important friends besides your sister, too, don't you?"

The girl hummed. "I guess so…"

"See? I also have very important friends. Same as Neo and everyone else. Isaiah can understand Söze and the other way around as well." he continued. "Think of it as an… imaginary friend. It's very normal for kids your age especially. Even you had one a few years ago."

"I did?"

"Why yes, and Melanie also."

Miltia scratched her temple. "I think I know what Söze looks like…"

"Really now?" Roman quirked an eyebrow. "And how did you find out?"

"Isaiah told me!" she chirped. "He's like this… this police officer I think."

Roman nodded. "That he does. Well, as far as we know."

"Well okay then! If you say Isaiah's fine, Uncle Roman, then he must be."

He let out a little chuckle before ushering Miltia. "Well, go on now. Go see what Neo might have for you."

With the little kids away and occupied, Roman had planned to turn his attention to where Isaiah had been last. However, before he could swivel his head around, Roman felt the seat's cushion shift. It wasn't hard for him to know immediately that this was the boy himself sitting behind him. Roman kept still, waiting; he knew that Isaiah had something to say, and until he did, they shall remain sitting back to back and silent. He could practically hear the boy fumbling about with his sleeves. As if a cliche, the boutique today was quiet enough—bar Miltia and Melanie's "conversation" with Neo and Ion off to the side, watching—that a pin drop could be heard.

Suddenly, the silence was broken with a barely audible whisper: "Roman, am I a freak?"


A/N: Once again, for like the 15 people who are reading this, I'm terribly sorry for this being out a day late. Completely went over the head during my dazed state. I've never cared much for views, but I always yearned for the interaction with the fandom. I suppose even that is hard to come by - at least for batshit insane stories like mine - after the Great RWBY Schism that has happened the last few years. Anyways, I recognise some OGs in the followers and favourites tab. It's good to see you lads and lasses. A round of applause for Mr. Falcon Punch and merendinoemiliano for the regular reviews because GOD KNOWS it'll be a barren wasteland without them.

Next chapter out on 28 May 2023.

Thank you for reading, and 'till next time!