CO-WRITTEN BY: SkinhdL
I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING.
The first thing that I felt was the soft material of a bed. Groggily I rubbed my eyes, I didn't recognize the room I was in, The ceiling was completely unfamiliar to me. I wrack my brain to remember what happened and why I was here, that's when I remember the truck.
That fucking ass ran a red. Where the hell am I? Did I get knocked out from the accident?
Finally taking notice of my surroundings I realized something I was in a kid's room. Why the hell was I in a kids room? Was I hallucinating? Nothing was making any sense. Reaching up to rub my face I noticed something… My hand was smaller than it used to be. Panicking, I stand up and trip over. That's when I feel a flash of pain lance through my head. Memories of people I never met are crammed into my head. Suddenly I became dreadfully existential. Somehow Ezra Vaughn's memories and consciousness just merged with Jaune Arc's. Fear shot throughout my body.
Who the fuck am I? I'm not Ezra, But after all of those memories, all that knowledge of what is to come, am I still Jaune?!
Taking a deep breath I desperately try to calm myself.
Now isn't the time to have an existential crisis. Especially because I saw how so many things will go wrong. Beacon, Atlas, Salem! Ezra, Jaune, it doesn't matter, we are one now and I can change things. For the sake of the world I must be Jaune Arc. But I will happily take Ezra and his knowledge with me.
As I untangle myself from the sheets, the door to my room slams open. A woman with dirty blonde hair and deep blue eyes emerges into my room, sporting an orange shirt. She stands there with a concerned look on her face. My brain supplies the name Saphron to me.
"What happened? Jaune are you okay?" she asks. Simultaneously, without any hesitation, I responded.
"I'm fine Saphron. Just got a bit tangled up is all." My response must've been a familiar one. Not only am I known to be clumsy as Jaune, I was brutally reeling from a genuine identity conflict. She laughed at me with a playful tone.
"Well get back to bed. We've got big plans for tomorrow."
Tomorrow? What the hell is going on tomorrow?
I sat puzzled trying to conjure the known memories of both lives, yet forgetting I was Jaune.
"What's tomorrow?"
Saphron smiles teasingly, "It's the 29th. It's your true birthday! You'll finally be a whole year old."
Oh no. It's February. God damn leap year, I should've known Jaune would have such a peculiar birthday like this. That means my sisters will throw me a wildly embarrassing party which means sing alongs, tacky games and cake. Man, that's kinda disappointing. Pie is infinitely superior to cake.
"I'm really sleepy. I think I'm gonna go back to sleep." I say rubbing my eyes.
"Alright, Jauney. Party starts when you wake up."
I saw my sister shut the door behind her & I crawled into bed. I can't help but to contemplate my new existence. Within Ezra's memories I gravitate towards a particular quote by the opening of Breton's Nadja and it seems to haunt me. Qui suis je? A question that not even the greatest philosopher could ever answer. The memories come so easily but I feel as if I don't know who I truly am. I know every moment of Jaune's life until this point. I know all of his sisters, their quirks, the profound love for one another. Compared to Ezra's life, it seemed so different, yet so similar. I came from a single mother who coddled me with unconventional love. She always supported and believed in me from the surrealistic fever dream of childhood through my stint in the military, all the way until I landed a great career at Lockheed Martin.
What would Ezra think? He was a nerd who loved sci-fi and anime as much as he loved his country. Jaune's life was just beginning. Have I robbed him of that life? Although I knew it was predetermined, it was his life to live. Have I taken from him? Did I erase him? I still have all of his memories, can I be the man who I knew he was going to be? No, I must take this life in stride. We must be better. Ezra. Jaune. Me. Whoever or whatever I may be. I can keep people safe with the knowledge I have. Ezra's mother, Saundra, always spoke of virtue. Helping people. She volunteered at soup kitchens and often drafted Ezra into helping out as well. We would explore hardware stores to purchase supplies for helping the homeless build shelters and we'd often celebrate Christmas with the church and donate toys for charity. If I learned anything from my mom, is that as it all may seem impossible, the one ripple reverberates making anything possible… I better get some sleep, after all I turn five tomorrow.
A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed the first chapter, SkinhdL and myself are currently working on more for this story, and we would appreciate your feedback.
We are currently experimenting on motifs such as identity and being, though this is not meant to be philosophical, we have both put pieces of our lives into this story. If you enjoyed it, please let us know.
