Chapter 1: The Fool
The Fool is number zero. It is the void from which all other things begin. - Margaret, Persona 4
"It'll be good for you, son. You'll see." Jaune's father said.
It wasn't like he'd been given a choice. Stay with Aunt Peach and finish his junior year at a whole new high school or stay with Aunt Peach and finish his junior year at a whole new high school. Very little middle ground there. Jaune was done being angry about it. He'd simply made it a point not to talk to his dad—to truly express just how completely okay he was with all of this. His own wants and needs? Nah, screw that.
"You know, your aunt's a psychologist. Works at the school as a guidance counselor part-time," his dad nodded as he drove, as if affirming something to himself. "Miss Onyx is a kind enough lady, but I guess it's hard opening up to a stranger, huh?"
Something like that. It was a mix of that and wondering if Miss Onyx actually cared about helping him or was just doing her job. Maybe that was unfair to put on her, but it was better than talking about problems that weren't there. She always insisted he was going through something, hiding something, and he hated the way she looked at him. Like she could see right through him and was completely unimpressed or unmoved by what she saw inside. Of course, why would staying with Aunt Peach change that? He didn't see her nearly enough to feel like opening up to her any more than Miss Onyx, and at the very least the latter lived nearby.
Jaune leaned his temple against the car window, staring out at the pissing rain, listening to its constant din. Cars flushed by, seemingly free to go wherever they wanted, while he was stuck here, helpless to save himself beyond jumping out of the car and hoping for the best. Whatever the "best" ended up being. His dad went on and on, as he tended to when he was running out of things to talk about.
"—there for me when I needed help, too. Your Aunt Peach could really help you. You just have to give her a chance, understand? Jaune?"
Jaune nodded. "Yeah, I'll try."
His father put up a weak smile. It always made him look older somehow—a stinging reminder that the invincibility that a parent seemed to have was a fantasy children made up. Everything expired eventually. "That's all I ask. Oh, well here we are."
They'd pulled into a small neighborhood, about as average looking as any other, at least from Jaune's perspective. He knew the city life about as well as he understood the origin of the universe. Which was to say, not at fucking all. Lots of nice, white-collar homes with balconies, perfect lawns, large pools, verandas, gazebos, and cars. Very nice cars. Even in the rain, the place was disgustingly clean, as if the community regularly bleached the neighborhood. Not at all like back home. This wasn't the kind of place where people lived, right?
They pulled up to what was probably the black sheep of the neighborhood, and Jaune strangely felt like he knew it. A small house, brick-walled, shingle-roofed, a sense of age to it with traces of rot all around. The lawn was an unkempt tangle of wild insanity, and the thorny bushes before the rusted gate were visibly coated in spiderwebs, visible even through the rain. He might have assumed his dad made a mistake, but then he saw Aunt Peach's dinky old car in the bumpy driveway. It reminded him of her almost. At least, if he was remembering her right.
"This is where I let you go, Three hours back home so I'd best get going." Jaune's dad said.
Jaune swallowed. He hadn't thought about it until now, but this would be the first time he'd be away from his family for an extended period of time. You only got one dad in life, most of the time. So why was he being punished by being taken away from him? It wasn't fair in the slightest. Jaune suddenly felt extremely vulnerable, nauseatingly weak. "I don't want to go, dad."
His father touched his shoulder, made him look up at him. "There are some things I can't help you with, Jaune. Sometimes we have to do the hard things in order to get better, even if it hurts."
But it hurt too much. He didn't want this at all. He'd never asked for it. Weren't things fine back home? Jaune could barely remember his dad's reasoning for it—just came in one day and decided to send him to the suburbs. He had no idea what kind of place this was or what kind of people were here. What was this supposed to accomplish? "What do I need to get better with? I'm fine."
His father did not look convinced. He never did when Jaune said those words. Only he was being completely honest—seemed like everyone else in the world thought he had a problem but himself. "Everyone needs help sometimes, Jaune. You'll be okay, I promise."
His dad reached over to hug him, and Jaune didn't try to stop him, but he didn't hug him back either. It'd be like giving in. Saying goodbye. And you didn't say goodbye to your family. Maybe he was being a child—home was only three hours away. But all of this was too new. He hated new things. His lips trembled as he took in his dad's smell, the smell of home. He imagined that neither Aunt Peach nor her house would smell like that at all.
Jaune pulled his suitcase and carrying bag from the back seats—clothes, mostly. Then stepped out of the car and into the rain. It had slowed now, but somehow felt worse. Leaving a frost in the air and a blanket of gray murk as if the world itself was playing into his shitty mood. Jaune took one final look at his dad, wondered if the rain had gotten into his eye and that's what was coming off his cheek, then the wheels of the car gave a hiss as he drove on through the shallow river.
Jaune watched him go until the backlights of the car vanished over the empty street. Then he was just looking at the neighborhood. A boring, dour hodge-podge of whiny, spoiled cityfolk. Nosy neighbors, gossip, snitches, and slimy backtalk. Not at all like back home where people walked everywhere and kids climbed trees and caught bugs instead of going to the mall and spending all their time on social media. People were honest back home. People were real back home. That was where he belonged. What was he supposed to do here?
Get better, I suppose. Whatever the fuck that means.
Jaune headed toward the house. Could have sworn he heard hissing in the weeds, then a jingle in the air when he saw that there was an ornate bell hanging on the door. Looked like prayer bells. Gods, he really hoped he wasn't walking into some crazily staunch, morally strict household. Remember, Jaune, no sex before marriage or you'll go straight to hell!
He pressed the doorbell and thought to sit on his suitcase and wait, but the door swung open before the bell had done the second ring. Had she been watching the whole time?
For a woman in her forties, she still looked good. Though the signs of age were clearly there. A grape at its ripest before the prune. She was in some professional clothes, a business jacket left unbuttoned, and skirt, barefoot like she'd just gotten out of work, glasses and short-bobbed pink hair and freckles on, fittingly, peachy skin. She smiled up at him, maybe half a head shorter. He didn't expect her to hug him, and he was right to, because she went right for cupping his cheeks, and only then did he notice that one hand held a beer bottle. "Oh Jaune, look at you. You got so much bigger!"
"And you're…" Older? Maybe not a good idea to hurt his aunt's feelings. "The same."
"You have your dad's charm, that's for sure," she chirped. "I bet the ladies spill all over you huh?"
Perhaps when they were trying to get away. But then that might imply that anyone at school bothered to acknowledge his existence. No one liked to talk to the weirdo. Couldn't even begin to recall how many people thought he was a cutter or a school shooter. In the making. Why did people think those things? Hell if he knew. That was the thing about rumors. They very rarely had actual basis. And yet they stuck hard and fast like hot glue.
Sometimes he wondered if being a loser would have made him happier rather than just… that guy. The one no one likes for no real reason. Or maybe there was one and he just didn't see it. Maybe he was ugly or something.
"I guess," Jaune settled on that.
"We'll come on in before you get soaked, I've already got your room set up. My home isn't that big, so I won't bore you with a tour."
Bore him? How? The place looked shabby on the outside, but once he stepped inside, it was completely different. Red velvet couches circled the marble coffee table in a half-moon shape, almost a proud smile before the giant watch of the TV in the wall, far bigger than any TV Jaune had ever seen. She had plants everywhere, her walls were decorated with pictures of friends, awards, her PhD. One picture was turned around so the back was exposed. Jaune stopped when he saw a picture of Peach, much younger, but holding a baby in her arms and kissing its cheek.
"You have a kid?" Jaune asked.
She was looking at the picture too, he noticed. Gently twisting the watch on her right wrist with the other hand. "Oh, that's you. I visited more often back then."
The obvious question then was to ask why that had stopped, but Jaune didn't want to keep the conversation going for much longer. Off to the right, a passthrough with stools revealed an elaborate kitchen, complete with seemingly everything even an advanced cook might need. Then he saw the boxes of pizza, cartons of Mistralean takeout, and the sink congested with dishes.
"Not much of a cook, so sorry about that." Peach shrugged one shoulder, "You cook, honey?"
Something about her calling him honey bothered him, but he ignored it. But he did often cook for his sisters. Heck, it was always him. None of the Arc women had the talent nor the patience. It was always either himself or his dad. His dad who would be three hours away from him now. "Yeah, sometimes."
"Lovely, then I'll have you make some meals for me from time to time. Think of it like paying rent or something!"
He could tell she was mostly just trying to joke, but Jaune wasn't much in the mood to laugh. Maybe cooking would be how he thanked her for the "help" he was supposed to be getting. Stupid. They moved on quickly enough, with her showing him the bathrooms, then her room, and another next to it.
"What's this one?" Jaune asked.
"My confidant room. That's for my clients' sessions. You however, are my nephew. I've got something way better in store for you."
She led him to a bookshelf down by the end of the hall, just beside the laundry room. She gestured to it with both arms like she was serving up the most impressive meal in the world on a silver plate. It was nice looking bookshelf all things considered, but Jaune was sure he was missing something there.
"I… don't read much." Unless you counted comics, but Jaune hadn't brought those with him. He hadn't touched his X-ray and Vav collection since… well since he was a kid. They were all packed up in the attic now, collecting dust and withering away.
"Shame for someone so young, but no that's not the cool thing." She pushed the end of the bookshelf and it slid open. "Leads to the basement, see? A secret passageway. Pretty cool, huh?"
Jaune just blinked, couldn't resist feeling a bit bad when his aunt noticeably wilted. "You could have pretended a bit."
"Uh, sorry." Jaune shuffled his feet. It really was cool. He just didn't feel it, was all.
"No, it's fine!" She waved her arms like she was trying to placate him. "A-anyway, your room is down here. Come."
She led him down the dark staircase, the smell of the basement hit home. Cold and ashy, earthy and chalky. It was generously spacious, his room. Almost like an apartment. A big bed in the far corner, a desk with a computer opposite it. Closer to the stairway, some old couches and chair arranged like the upstairs living room, right before a widescreen TV. There was even a fridge, a heater, a closet, and a bathroom. Light poured in the glass screen door as Peach pulled the curtains open, exposing the empty backyard.
"Its your own little world down here." She handed him a key. "The screen door locks from the outside so you don't have to come upstairs to leave the house." She pointed at the little fridge. "I heard from your dad you always wanted one of those so I got you one." She opened it up and it was stocked with his favorite drinks. She even knew about that? What else had his dad told her about him?
"Also…" Peach took something off the table. A roll of… money? "A starting allowance."
"Allowance?" Jaune questioned as he stared at it. Then he looked at her. "What work do I have to do?"
She laughed, and they sounded like peals of squealing piglets. Kinda funny in a way, but he wondered how long it might be before he got annoyed by it. "Jaune, this isn't the boonies. I just give you some money every month. All you need to do is your chores and schoolwork."
Back home, he'd be lucky to have money at all. Times came that even getting ice cream from the ice cream truck was too expensive and it was almost a blessing to get a gift or snack from the market. He often did yard work, cleaned people's cars, delivered mail, and other things to make money. Scraps of it, but money nonetheless. He rolled the fat wad in his hand and it easily dwarfed the money he'd made in all the little jobs he had.
"That's five-hundred lien." Peach preened. "Won't be as much next month, but I decided to spoil you a bit."
"I…" What did I do to deserve this? To deserve any of this? You're being too nice. Why can't you be a crazy religious fanatic so it makes it easier to hate you? "I don't know what I'd spend it on."
"Clothes, games. I got you the new Gamestation." She pointed at the black console by the TV. "But I don't play a lot of games—don't have the time with my job and all—so you'll have to get the games yourself. The mall has everything you can find." Peach clapped her hands together. "Okay, now some ground rules. Home by eleven and I guess I shouldn't have to say no sneaking out. Do you smoke?"
"No."
"Drink?"
"No."
She gave him a look. "Not even a little?"
Jaune shrugged. No money to even get ice cream as a kid, not enough friends to be curious about smoking or drinking.
Peach's eyebrows rose. "Well, I'm a little surprised. Most kids are experimenting with a lot of that these days."
"I guess they just aren't my thing."
"What is your thing?"
Jaune felt suddenly very on the spot with that question and rubbed his forehead. "I don't know. Playing guitar." He hadn't touched his guitar in years. The fun of it died some time ago. Sometimes, he wasn't sure if he'd ever enjoyed it.
"Your school will have music clubs, so those might be right up your alley. Otherwise, this place is your palace. Bet all your friends will love uh, chilling here."
Oh God, she was trying to be cool, Jaune instantly had flashbacks of his dad. At the moment he wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing. He put up a small smile for her, one she must have genuinely believed for she returned even bigger one, freckled cheeks turning a little pink.
As for friends, he had none now that he'd moved here. He'd had no friends even back home. Jaune looked at the computer—he doubted he'd use it much beyond for school. And talking to his penpal, Mystery. A stupid idea of his dad's years ago—thought it might make him more social. It only half-worked. But Mystery was fun to talk and it was easier to talk to people online anyway.
"—can always come to me to ask for anything, understand?"
Jaune snapped back to reality right in time to catch Peach touching his shoulder. He shrugged her off. "Uh yeah, what about school?"
"Starts at eight," she sighed. "You could catch the bus but if you get up early enough, the walk is only twenty minutes. You start the day after tomorrow and I left your schedule on your bed. Professor Goodwitch is your homeroom teacher so, uh, good luck with that. And there's your backpack, which already has your supplies and your uniform—your dad sent me your sizes."
Before, he'd thought this was a spur of the moment thing, now Jaune knew that this had been a long time in the works. And he wasn't sure if that made him feel any better about it. "What about you? Don't you work there?"
"My primary job keeps me at home with my clients most of the time, but you'll see me around the school sometimes. You have any questions?"
Jaune shook his head.
"Then get to marking your territory nephew, and I'll see you for dinner. Pizza or mistralean?"
"Either."
"No preference?"
"Not really."
Another sigh. "Right."
She headed upstairs and Jaune couldn't help but feel a lump of guilt as he watched her go. "I'm sorry."
She looked back at him. "What?"
"I'm a burden. I'm sorry." Jaune said again.
"Honey, you're not a burden. You're family."
She was just saying it. She had to, in order to get him to trust her, to believe her. They were nice words to hear. But that was all they were. Words.
Soon enough she was gone and Jaune dropped his bags where he stood and went over to the bed. Part of him wanted to shower and then sleep, part of him just wanted to sleep right then. He didn't do either though. Just laid there and stared at the ceiling and smelled the chalky underground. He turned on the TV, flipped the channels. A cartoon, a news report talking about a murder, a crime drama, eventually he stopped on a sappy romance. A couple kissing on the beach. By the water beating against the shore. A spray of foam kicking up on the sand...
Jaune shut the TV off. Then turned onto his side. He didn't watch much TV that much anyway, so he didn't know why he'd tried. So he pulled out his phone and opened his emails to Mystery.
"SOS. My dad disowned me and now I live in the city." A touch dramatic, but he wasn't in much of a mood to care. He missed home already. And he wondered if home missed him. Probably not.
With that he closed his phone and stared out the open window while the rain picked up again. Barely more than a muffled roar now. Jaune waited for the sound to lull him to sleep.
It never did.
Jaune wasn't sure why he had so much energy for school. Seemed like that one day reprieve before the inevitability of it had passed entirely too quickly. Probably because it had.
He ignored the bus as it passed him, a group of his peers getting on as he walked by. Jaune double-checked his hood to make sure it was still up, then the laces of his earphones to make sure they were still there. He never played music in them—people just tended to leave those with earphones alone.
He'd stayed inside for the most part, keeping to himself and only ever coming up to eat. Aunt Peach would sometimes come talk to him or keep him upstairs for something. And he'd seen a man arrive yesterday in the morning for his aunt. Old as his dad, he guessed, dusty and scruffy. Looked like a businessman or a detective. But he figured that was one of her co-workers and promptly returned his wave and shuffled back into his man-cave.
Now, like the allegorical newborn chick, it was time to spread his wings and fly out of the nest or something like that. Maybe that's where the energy came from—just wanting to get the first dive over with.
The neighborhood was quaint and quiet. Peaceful. Most people might find that refreshing, but Jaune missed the sounds of madness going on back home. People playing music, crazy people in the streets, old cars struggling down the road, neighbors gathering and talking and shouting. Felt like one big family back there. Not so here. Everything felt… artificial. Inorganic.
On the other side of the road to a boy his age with dirty blonde hair yawned at someone's door. A particularly nice looking house even compared to the others. Even in his academy uniform, the boy managed to stand out in a way. He didn't wear his blazer, and Jaune had to wonder if that was because it was too tight on his arms or he was trying to show off his muscles. Then again, he probably didn't bother much with how he looked since his slacks and shirt were a ruffled mess both.
The boy rocked back and forth on his heels, twitching his ears at will and he stuck his tongue out impatiently. Or patiently, since he didn't look like he was in a particular rush. He turned to the door as someone came walking out. A boy with blue-dyed hair… and he looked the furthest thing from his friend. Hair neatly combed, clothes ironed to an almost impossible degree, and even giving himself a bit of mouth spray.
He had a sour look on his face like he'd bitten into a rotten apple otherwise, moving on past his friend without so much as a hello. Must've been normal since the blonde didn't look bothered by this, instead following after him as they got to the roofless car in the driveway. The blonde slid over the hood, swung his legs over the hood so he plopped into the passenger seat while babbling about something. The blue-haired boy managed to laugh, as if his bad mood was never there. Jaune watched them drive off, noting how nice the car looked. Here in the city, having nice cars apparently mattered a lot. Back home, having a working car was what mattered more. Pickup trucks and vans were the norm, cuz of all the big families and moving around.
Would Aunt Peach buy me a nice car if I cry hard enough? Jaune let himself chuckle a little. Like he'd actually use it. One day at a time, Jaune. One day at a time.
It wasn't long before Beacon Academy showed its ugly face. As long as ugly meant outstanding.
A great big castle of an academy, dark green like faded emeralds had been moulded with stone. Students and faculty filled in through the gates, on bikes and on foot, while the lot filled up with traffic. Jaune kept to himself as he entered the loud throng, bumping shoulders and apologizing accordingly. This would be his new school. Not at all like his old one. That seemed dingy and outdated by comparison.
"Move it!" Someone shoved past him. A big guy with short orange hair. He seemed to not notice him as he slung his arm over another guy's shoulders and started laughing. Jaune felt something boil up, but just as quickly left it to simmer. Only the first day. No problem.
His homeroom was Room 206, and he assumed that was on the second floor. When he entered, it was as school as it could get. Sort of like a palace in some ways, but there was nothing he was surprised by. He found his class soon enough, and conveniently, his locker was an offshoot from the others in a corner down that hall. None of the others were taken since they had no locks, which gave him a small reprieve from everyone else. Couldn't stay there forever though, so he took a breath and entered his homeroom.
Some people looked up when he walked in, but in a "oh and I don't care" sort of way. Most were already in their own friend groups, and chatter filled the room, but nothing else was going on. Plenty of empty seats though, and Jaune nearly thought he was super lucky when he saw an empty seat in the corner, but someone else parked themselves in it a second later. All the window seats were taken too.
The next best thing was a seat in the middle, slightly closer to the back, but not by much. Jaune slung his bag at the foot of the desk and slid into his seat, flipping his hood off at the same time. He didn't know if it was a rule to keep hoods down or anything, but it was best not to risk it. No teacher in sight, either, which allowed him to check his phone.
"This is Mystery, here for the rescue. Spill your secrets." Mystery had responded and Jaune felt his heart flutter a bit. It always did when she responded.
"Too late. I'm in school." He responded,
She answered back quickly. "Life's full of tragedy. Yours most of all. Let's run away together."
"Hey," Jaune nearly flinched when someone tapped his hand. He looked up angrily at the offender, the blonde boy from earlier. He was rather tanned himself now that Jaune got a good look at him. Muscled, athletic, soft blue eyes, perhaps a winning smile. He wasn't smiling much, in fact he looked kind of put-off, perhaps cuz he was glaring at him. "Relax dude. Teach is here."
He subtly pointed forward and Jaune saw that he was right, Miss Goodwitch was now at the board and Jaune was instantly reminded of a hawk. A stern, vicious-looking creature of surprising grace that any creature would rightly respect. Do not fuck with me, those eyes commanded behind glasses that she pushed up her nose. He put his phone away and sat at attention.
"You're welcome," The boy whispered. "I'm Sun."
Jaune chose not to answer, still watching the teacher. Unfortunately, this Sun was persistent. "Hey, I said, I'm Sun."
"Moon." Jaune hissed, facetiously.
"Funny guy, okay." Sun beamed, "I can tell you're new around here. If you ever need help, me and my bud Neptune here can show you around." Sun gestured to his blue-haired friend. An admittedly handsome guy, and Jaune was confident admitting that since there was a pair of girls sitting behind him giggling and pointing. "Any time, new guy. Just say the word."
Jaune chose not to say anything and right on time too. As a piece of chalk struck Sun so hard on the forehead that a burst of dust came out and the piece of chalk clattered away. All eyes were on the teacher now, who did not look angry, but rather impassive and domineering. Seemed like it wasn't the first classroom she'd taken control of. Wouldn't be the last either. "Mister Wukong,"
"Agh, nice to see you're back from your vacation, Teach." Sun said, rubbing his forehead. "I missed your… abuse."
Jaune lowered himself a bit as Miss Goodwitch thumbed another piece of chalk. "How many detentions have I given you in your tenure here?"
"I failed algebra so I don't think math's my strong suit." That got a few chuckles. Even Jaune had to give him that one.
"The answer is ten, Mister Wukong." Goodwitch said, "Or it is now."
Sun gaped. "It hasn't even been a month!"
"Then it shall be a humbling lesson to you and all who enter this classroom." She wrote something on the blackboard: No talking. And she snapped a line under the rule for added measure. There perhaps wasn't even a god that dared to defy her, for the world had submitted to absolute silence. "Good. Let's go over a few announcements."
Jaune picked around his food at lunch—mashed potatoes, applesauce, a carton of juice. Standard. Apparently even the nicest schools had shitty food.
He'd managed to find a table in relative loneliness, with a large group of students at one end and himself on the other. Unfortunately, he didn't get to wear his hood or headphones, so the world felt all the louder and all the bigger for it. Girls gossiped about girl things, guys guyed about guy things, teachers watched or didn't watch, and the world continued to turn.
"I don't like it here." Jaune messaged to Mystery.
"My school isn't much better." She responded. "Sometimes, I wish I was a guy. You all bond over burps and farts and stuff. Girls have to pick sides right away or get shunned.''
"Pick the sluts."
"And sacrifice my untested vagina? And here I was thinking I'd save myself for you."
Jaune made sure to look around, hiding his phone quickly as a teacher passed by. "You still haven't saved me from my new school."
"Well that'd relieve you of your pain. And your pain turns me on."
"Wassup, stranger!"
Jaune jolted, his phone flopped out his hand onto the floor. He reached to grab it, but someone had already picked it up and was handing it to him. Sun again. Along with his buddy Neptune. Jaune took his phone quickly enough and looked between the two. "Uh, thanks."
"Can we join you?" Sun asked.
Ah, a clever trick. Classic, actually. If Jaune said no, then he'd seem unappreciative. Say yes and lose time for himself, be forced to talk to them. Maybe if he went back in time and pretended to be a mute, this could all be avoided. Maybe if he went back in time and shot his grandfather then he could guarantee this wouldn't happen. Alas, there was no such thing as a time traveling device. Not yet anyway. So Jaune gestured for them to do what they wanted, and they found their seats opposite him. Interesting dichotomy with them. Sun was all smiles and sunshine, while Neptune was quiet and frowning as he ate.
"Soo…" Sun tried to egg on some conversation, but Jaune stayed firmly quiet. If he stayed still long enough, perhaps they wouldn't be able to see him. He didn't want to use his phone now because he didn't want them asking about it. "Where're you from?"
"Lore." Jaune answered.
"My uncle's from there." Sun said, "Well, actually he's from the village further south but he comes up there sometimes. You might have seen him around before."
Jaune shrugged. "Never seen him. Never heard of him."
A bout of silence.
"You don't talk much, huh?" Sun tried again.
"Not as much as you, no."
Sun rubbed his head sheepishly, and Neptune smiled a bit at that. "Uh yeah, you aren't the first one to tell me that. Sorry if its annoying. But… you can't get to know people if you don't talk to them, right?"
Some people weren't worth getting to know, Jaune wanted to say, but he stayed quiet. Or he would have if he hadn't had a question himself. "Why sit over here?"
"You looked lonely," Neptune answered simply.
Jaune rolled his eyes. He wasn't lonely. He had Mystery, and he was having a fine time talking to her before they showed up. Oh, and he didn't believe them for a second. Two good looking, well-fit young men undoubtedly had lots of friends or girlfriends—likely both. And they had just decided to come sit next to him out of the kindness of their heart? Bullshit. But he wasn't about to ask their reasons. He never should have asked them anything in the first place.
But he had noticed that Neptune would look toward a table, one where a group of guys were palling around and laughing. A big dark-skinned boy so muscular he made Sun look like a stick, and a thinner red-haired boy whose bangs hid one eye, and lots of others. Looked like a club or something. But Neptune never said anything about it, just stared over like some forlorn lover.
Jaune spent the rest of lunch doing his best job of indirectly telling Sun he didn't want to be his friend, but the boy remained persistent. An admirable trait to some. Horrible to him. Just one day at a time. One day at a time.
That's when something dropped onto the table, Jaune once again startled to nearly dropping his phone. The object, which turned out to be a foot, had dropped right onto Neptune's tray, throwing his applesauce everywhere. And the owner of that foot? Well he managed to devise the most inarguably pompous, most undeservedly self-assured smirk in the world, as if he'd been born with dick forged from gold. He sent a vicious sneer Neptune's way and it didn't take long for Jaune to recognize the burnt orange hair. "Oops, my bad."
"Cardin, my man." Sun said with a grin, though Jaune imagined that one wasn't born of pure kindness considering how the boy gripped his spoon, "You learned more self-control over the summer. Your shoe isn't covered in dog shit."
"Neither is your face. Just your luck though, I guess." This Cardin said, "So, you hear all these rumors going around?"
"All kinds of rumors going around." Neptune frowned, "No one has anything else to talk about if it isn't about someone else."
"Well, I'm thinking you might know this one. The swim team. What happened to the national qualifier? That was over the summer, right Neppie?"
Neptune looked crestfallen. Jaune didn't know why, but that made his chest tighten up. "I—"
"That's in the past, Cardin." Sun interjected, "Now can you move your foot, we're trying to eat here?"
Cardin grinned wider. "Sure." He dragged his foot off slowly so they had no choice but to watch as the remains of Neptune's food spilled out on the floor. And Jaune had to tell himself not to say anything. It wasn't his business. Clearly these guys had issues with each other, but he was uninvolved.
"That wasn't necessary." Sun seethed.
"Probably not," Cardin said. "But what are you gonna do about it, huh Nips? Ain't got your little posse anymore, right?: He leaned closer. "You're nothing but a little bitch now."
Jaune kept still. He didn't need to be a part of this. Actually, he could walk away and this Cardin would likely leave him be. He could fade into obscurity like he wanted to. Like he planned to. There was quite literally no reason to not walk away.
Sun tried to tell him to stop, but Cardin seemed to be unable to hear him. Leaning down to the glaring Neptune like he was about to kiss him. Instead, he tapped his cheek with a finger. "Do something. Go on. I'm waiting."
"I said stop it!" Sun jumped up, but Neptune was right with him, holding down his friend's arm. Though it took visible effort. This wasn't his problem. He didn't even care about Sun or Neptune. All Jaune had to do was walk away.
Cardin seemed to welcome the challenge, spreading his arms out wide and inviting retaliation. "Gonna do something? Try me, Sonny-boy!" Cardin turned to Jaune then, and he realized he only knew this because he was looking up at him. His eyebrows furrowed, his hands clenched tight around his tray. "Fuck are you gonna do, you nobody?"
He wasn't going to do anything. That's what Jaune told himself. He just wished he'd listened.
He shot up lightning-quick, and Cardin stumbled back, But Jaune was already moving toward him. Cardin must have slipped in the food he'd knocked over, because he collapsed right onto his ass, like a toddler tripping over something. The entire cafeteria had stopped to watch and the very air was still as dead. Jaune didn't bother looking around, mostly because he was afraid to see the thousands of eyes on him, and his tray of food trembling in his hands. Though what was causing it, he couldn't be sure.
"Where's the trash can?" Jaune asked Sun and Neptune. They pointed toward one at the end of the hall. "Oh." Jaune let the tray fall out of his hands and onto Cardin's head, juice, applesauce, and potato salad spilled all over him, and he even let out a shudder like it had been a bucket of ice instead. Jaune heard some people gasp, but he was too busy relishing in Cardin's pure shock to care.
"Oops, my bad." he smirked.
Naturally, it had evolved into a fight. Or devolved, depending on how you looked at it.
Jaune didn't think he should be smiling, now sat opposite of Cardin in the teachers' office, both covered in food, sporting an aching black eye and busted lip. He hadn't won that fight exactly—Cardin was kinda too strong, but Jaune did break his nose, and it was made all the sweeter since he was holding a pink washcloth to his face, trying his hardest to glare murder into him. Jaune would have smirked again if it didn't hurt to. And now both of them were awaiting the arrival of… whoever it was the dealt out punishments. He imagined Goodwitch and shivered.
"Jaune!" Aunt Peach? She came rushing in with a tall man in a dark green suit right behind her. Her hands were on his face before he knew it, touching his wounds none too gently. "What in the Brothers happened?"
"He started it!" Cardin snapped, though that was mostly directed at the man who'd accompanied Peach.
Considering the situation, the man was strangely calm. Implacable. Like this was a regular thing. With Cardin, it probably was. Peach gently touched his eye with her thumb and Jaune cringed in pain, felt a tear slip out. "I started it." he admitted. It technically was true.
"From what I heard, the perpetrator of the 'starting it' was Mister Winchester." The white-haired man said as he turned to the subject, tapping his cane on the ground. "You have a remarkable talent for always being where the trouble is."
"I wasn't—"
The white-haired man's eyes hardened, Jaune even felt disturbed by them. Almost finding himself pitying Cardin. Almost. It was quickly replaced when Cardin lowered his head. "I thought so. Detention for the week, Mister Winchester. I'm certain that will give you time to reflect on your actions. Or perhaps you'll make the same mistakes—I can't say I'd be surprised. Go on home now, I do believe we've had enough of you today."
Cardin got up right away, and headed for the door, turning back to look at Jaune and make a cutting motion across his neck. Defiantly, Jaune mouthed "Bring it."
"Mister Arc," The white-haired man said. "I usually make it a point to meet new students beforehand, but I'm your Headmaster."
Headmaster Ozpin, Jaune had heard of him from his aunt but didn't think he'd see him this soon. Then again, he didn't think he'd get into a fight this soon either. Or at all. He found himself lowering his head too. "I'm sorry, sir."
"Let us just ensure this doesn't happen again. And certainly not on your first day. The real world is not a place for petty heroics, no matter how selfless. Restraint, Mister Arc. Understand?"
Jaune didn't necessarily agree with that, but he was the Headmaster. You agreed and you shut up. "Yes, sir. It won't happen again."
"I shall pray on it." He nodded toward Peach, "I suppose I shall leave him with you. Have a good evening, Victarine." And he made his way out, almost as if he'd never been there at all. Like a ghost looming over his shoulder.
Jaune didn't hold his aunt's look for long before he scratched his head and tried to look away. "Sorry."
"Jaune, it was only your first day. Why did you do that?"
"I don't know."
"I don't know you for starting or getting into fights, unless there's something your dad didn't tell me?"
Normally Jaune didn't either. He preferred not to use violence either but something had just snapped in him. A combination of things. His dad, the move, Sun and Neptune sitting with him, not having the time to talk to Mystery, and Cardin just being a dick for no reason. He didn't want to let that just sit. He wanted some influence on his life. Was he not allowed to have that? "I don't like bullies. That's all. I'm sorry… Auntie."
He'd really only added that last part to squeeze out what mercy he could, but she proved to be smarter than that. He suddenly realized he'd tried to emotionally manipulate a psychologist and felt even dumber for it. "I don't think you're sorry at all." she said.
He wasn't, and she was smart enough to see through him apparently. Just like Miss Onyx. He didn't fight her when she took his hand. "We're going home, I already have your bag, and I'll fix up your eye. You'll get your punishment later."
Figures, but Jaune didn't have the energy to argue. They headed out the door and, barring the humiliation of having his aunt pull him to the entrance, he ignored the whispers of people looking at him in the hallways. A girl with dark hair streaked with red talking to an older girl with a lion's mane of gold. A girl with white hair, trying not to look his way but utterly failing. The whole school it seemed like. He doubted people would like him much now, and Jaune wondered if the sting he felt was the familiarity of being that outcast, or the very real possibility that it wouldn't be that way if he'd just not fought Cardin. Once an outcast, always one, I guess.
Then Sun and Neptune, the latter starting toward him, and Jaune held their gazes for a moment, wondering if Neptune was going to say something. But Sun held him back and the school doors were closed in front of him.
There was a bit of relief, at least. They were okay. He hadn't been sure if they had gotten hurt in the fight, having tried to pull him off. He'd have to thank them for that. One day, but not today.
Pretty crappy way to start the year though. An enemy, a poor impression on his teachers and peers, and an enemy that would probably spend a lot of time figuring out a way to get back at him.
Fantastic.
Dinner was an awkward affair. Mostly because it was leftovers from last night and now the pizza tasted like cardboard, and the still silence was completely unlike Aunt Peach. At least, as he'd come to know her.
What was he to say? Sorry? Done plenty of that. All he could do now was await punishment. Aunt Peach hadn't touched her pizza, rather determined to sit there with her arms crossed, pouting, occasionally shaking her head like she couldn't believe what she was looking at. My nephew? A delinquent? Joseph, you need to come take your son back right this moment! Then again, she probably knew that's what he wanted. What better punishment than to make him stay?
"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" she huffed.
Jaune searched his brain for the least rhetorical answer possible. He didn't find one, so he shook his head instead.
"This school was supposed to be a fresh start, Jaune. I can't help you if you get into trouble like this. You're a junior this year, how you behave matters a lot more now."
He knew, and he knew it probably wasn't over either. Cardin would dog him with spectacular vengeance—didn't suit a bastard like him to back off after a helping of public humiliation. He'd dealt with bullies before and the one thing they couldn't stand was a toy that refused to break. Oh Cardin and whatever cronies he had would do their damndest to make his life a living hell. He imagined his dead body turning up in a street somewhere, strangely found it funny.
But it would keep Cardin away from Sun and Neptune. At least, for a while. That had to be worth something.
"You didn't even know those boys. You should have let them fight him. It would have been smarter to walk away, you know."
It would've been. Jaune agreed. But he hadn't walked away, and he could pretend he didn't know why, but figured it wasn't worth lying to himself.
"Well Jaune? I want to hear your reasons."
"I hate bullies," Jaune said, but there was a moment of quiet that, for some reason, urged him to elaborate. "Its hurts… seeing other people get hurt."
And hadn't he had enough of that? He had no control over his life. He just did what everyone else wanted him to do and smiled through it all. At least with Cardin, he'd been able to make a difference. Stop someone from getting hurt, from feeling worthless and weak. Jaune's frown set in deep. No one deserved to feel that way.
Peach was quiet for a moment, and Jaune noticed she began fiddling with her silver watch again. On closer look, it was an old thing, laced with scratches and gunk. The hands didn't even tick anymore. "Jaune, do you know why I became a psychologist?"
"No."
She fiddled with one of the watch's buttons. Stared at it like she could see something no one else could. "Because changing a man's body will not change him. You want a surefire change in someone, you have to target the heart."
"So I should've punched Cardin… in the heart?" He had a couple times. Guy hadn't exactly been shitting rainbows or singing musicals.
"Something like that," Peach stopped messing with the watch. And there was a faint click as the tiny gears inside stopped. She stood up, looked down at him with a rather focused look as if she was zeroing in on a target. "I want to show you something. Brace yourself."
Brace himself? What did—
Weightlessness.
Jaune's ears rang like a giant gong had been smashed against his skill. A powerful crash like a million windows had all exploded. Suddenly, he was going down. Falling.
And fast.
Billions of glass shards, like the ones of mosaic paintings, fluttering around him like they'd all been part of some elaborate puzzle. They swirled around him, spiraling like leaves in the wind, pelting like hail in a snowstorm. Jaune couldn't hear his own scream, the world had grown instantly darker, and no matter how much he flailed and kicked, fought and cursed, he couldn't convince it to stop. He only ever picked up speed as the world became a blurry black smudge, while the shards of class collected down below, shrank into each other like water draining from a sink until…
A flash. Quick as the snap of a photo.
If he'd hit the ground and died instantly, then he was lucky to have gotten a merciful death. His only question being: Why was he in Hell?
And why was Hell so fucking pink?
He was surrounded by a gigantic, titanic city with dark buildings stretching impossibly into the bubblegum colored sky, dotted with a pale-blue moon, eerily pulsing like a heartbeat. Jaune couldn't even get to his feet as he stared out over the megascape, millions of black buildings spread as far as he could see, like a great fire had been cast over it once and now only the shells of a dead world were left behind. Strange sounds were in the air. Sounded like howls. Wolves. Then loud screeches, like birds, monstrous birds. And in the distance, black shapes flapped toward the burning pink horizon. What else could a man ask himself but "Where the fuck am I?"
"You alive, nephew?"
Jaune looked up to find Peach kneeling over him. Only she was dressed very differently. She was in a lab coat, one half black, the other white, the tails drifting in a breeze that didn't exist. She wore a white glove on one hand and black on the other, and she twirled a scalpel in the latter. She looked the same, and yet so different. Like the smooth edges she once had were sharpened to a brutal edge—made the scalpel that much harder to look away from. And yet somehow staring at her made the air around him intense, painful, chokingly uncomfortable. Like he was looking at something more than just his aunt.
But then she smiled at him, accentuating the pink lipstick she definitely hadn't been wearing before. She put a hand to her chest. "You like to help people? Let me show you how to do it the right way."
Jaune almost couldn't find the words, let alone get them out. He gasped out, "Where… ?"
Aunt Peach pointed the scalpel at the moon. Jaune couldn't help but think that, if she wanted to, she could cut it right in half. That she had that much control over this place. That much power. "Welcome Jaune, to my heart."
So this story certainly won't be hiding its inspirations. With the pandemic and everything, and occasional bouts of free time, I'd gotten into a series that isn't normally my thing. Persona. And already its turning into one of my favorite series. Which is where this story comes in.
Its inspired mostly from Persona 5, though I am getting into the previous titles and chose to invert the general plot that P5 goes for so I can tell a different story. I feel like both Persona and non-persona fans can enjoy this since I won't be using things that you have to know to understand the series. Though this story will definitely have plenty of references and themes that tie back to those games if you know them.
Firstly, I won't be using the Personas or the power system in series, either. I feel like that makes things needlessly complicated since I predict that this story will be a pretty long one. Best to keep it simple—I've noticed the quality of my work downgrades when I make things too complicated.
Not much else to say other than I bet you NEVER SAW THIS COMIIIING!
Sorry not sorry.
ISA