Chapter 6: Phantom Knights
Beta: ZH_Steven
It was 1950, and the world of Poisonburg was split into various tones of black and white. Of ghost light and abyssal shadows, cold grey tones intermingling with a society of equally grey morality. The reds and blues and greens were all gone—perhaps they'd never really been there at all. Perhaps the man who'd broken her heart all those years ago had never really been there. But the past was like getting sick, eventually, you got over it. And if you didn't, it was probably terminal.
It was moments like this when Victarine Peach, ace detective of the H&H department of mysteries, conceded to her long denied reality: She had a problem. One she'd tried to drown in glass after miserable glass of wheated bourbon. Unfortunately for her, the bastards learned how to swim.
"A Maltese Falcon, if you please." She called to the waiter huskily, holding out her palm.
"Can you get serious? This isn't a movie," the young waiter said, handing her the drink. A drink that looked a lot more like a small hand mirror. Close enough, she wagered. She popped it open and what did she find? Some gorgeous snake of a dame—dangerous eyes, venomous smile, the embodiment of Poisonburg's historic corruption, irresistible sex craze, and choking atmosphere of second-hand smoke. And who could this voluptuous vixen be? Why, herself, of course.
"Aunt Peach?" Jauneathan Arcson crossed his arms over his white dress shirt. Ah, her nephew. So innocent, so clean. Why had she brought him to the cruel, evil city? Soon, he'd be the one uncovering its mysteries, its vicious underbelly. A brutal undertaking, no mistake, but damn if Victarine didn't wish she had scraped the trash from the city's corrupt innards all those years ago.
Now here she was, playing the game once again. Bobbed up hair, scarlet red lipstick, dress shirt with two buttons popped for good measure, and the shortest, tightest skirt she could find. Even her nails were finely-manicured—courtesy of her yet untested nephew—and painted the same red as her lips. The color of passion, sex, violence, and blood. Poisonburg thrived off that madness. Thrived of her madness.
The saxes were in the air, the piano man playing hard, and the heavy rain was a quiet din outside her colorless home. All Victarine Peach could ask herself was, why, oh why had she gotten herself mixed up in this black business again? Hadn't she moved on?
Why had she revived the famous, the dangerous, the irresistible Poisoned Peach once again?
"Aunt Peach!"
He was right. There was no point in brooding over it anymore. This dark path… she couldn't resist it no matter what she tried. So why not jump in? Peach got to her feet, death-sharp heels click-clacking on the floorboards. The door was wide open, like the legs of some Mmistralean whore salivating over a buck. And like the desperate animal Poisoned Peach was, she'd dive shamefully into that fleshy forest without care of her own safety. What was an STD compared to the toxin swimming through her blood already?
"My coat, Jauneathan." Peach spread out her arms.
"It's not raining, it's not cold enough that you need one, and Neptune's house is down the street."
Madness. What was her mind coming to? That's what happened when you spent too long in his shithole of a city. It sucked away mind and soul together. Peach always recovered though, always kept her cool. She snatched up her black fedora, stroked the blue rose on top, then settled it on her head, tipped in the front so it covered her eyes.
By the gods, she was a woman on the edge. Always on the hunt for trouble. There were many challenges she'd faced in her years—giant monsters, powerful Alters, corporate greed, the corruption of this stinking town had no limits.
But the one thing that always got her blood going, the one thing that always proved itself a challenge no matter how often she had to do it, was getting her man. Mama always said a woman never chases a man.
But Mama was not 'Poisoned' Victarine Peach, ace detective of the H&H department of mysteries. She was the chaser, the hunter, she always got her man.
Even as she strolled down the walkway, and harsh gray tones of an age-old film screened all over this black and gray world, Peach did not lose her cool. Not even with her nephew snapping at her like an angry pup.
"I'll go around the side," he said, "Make sure you let me know when to go."
Ha, what kind of fool did he take her for? Did he not know that her name was whispered in reverie and horror all throughout this city? Peach gave him a nod, and he slinked off to the side of Neptune's house. All came down to her now. Time to set the stage.
She rapped on the door, made sure to check her looks one last time. The straps of her black push-up bra were just barely visible through her shirt, the inside of her blouse peeling outward like hungry lips, exposing just the right amount of cleavage that should tempt any man. A woman had to use every power she could in a man's world, and there was no force more powerful against them than women themselves.
"Miss Peach?" A man, the man, answered the door. "What brings you here?"
Perfect, he recognized her. Made sense, they saw each other a fair amount at the school. Too bad he only knew the kind, law-abiding side of Victarine Peach. He had no clue what kind of beast he was facing now. Man, why was she so cool?
"A sort of parent-teacher conference that the school has been experimenting with, if on a smaller scale." Peach began confidently, "I figured you, as a prominent family member participating in school support activities, would like to be one of the first to participate? I promise it won't take much of your time."
Peach put up the best smile he could despite the darkness she carried in her soul, but she wasn't counting on Lewis Vasilias looking at her face. He was a resilient one though, he didn't look down even a smidge. Perhaps the danger in her eyes was more than enough to entrance him. Wouldn't be the first time her feminine powers reduced people to sludge at her feet. Heh.
"It just seems so out of nowhere," he said, "But if it won't take long, I think I can spare some time."
"I won't keep you for long, sir." Peach dipped her head. "Thank you so much for your time."
She stepped inside and looked around. A quaint place, deceptively plain. It was almost as average a suburban household as anyones. Perfect for long-lasting, long-loving family life. But of course, in Poisonburg, it was never that simple. Could be a happy family on the outside, and a family of cannibals like that time back in Murdersville.
"Would you like a drink, Miss, Peach?"
She smiled sweetly. "I'm alright with anything. Especially if it's liquor."
His eyebrows shot up. "It's the middle of the day."
"Never too early for a bit of liquid spirit, my father would say."
"Well, sorry to disappoint. But liquor isn't allowed in this house. Not since my wife, anyway."
"Oh, my apologies." Sometimes, in Poisonburg, you said the wrong things. It was a tenuous world, and even she wasn't above mistakes. But the night was still young—primarily because it wasn't night at all.
"It's in the past. I'll get you some coffee. Sugar?"
"Black, preferably." Black like her heart. Black like the dark deeds she'd done in the past.
Lewis turned his back to look through the shelves, and Peach took that chance to flip out her phone and hit send.
It was time to start this deadly game.
~A Game of Hearts~
"The armadillo has flown the fish tank."
God damn it. He'd asked her not to do one of those stupid code phrases. Why in the world did she think they were so cool? The plan itself had already been a hard sell to him, even if Peach said she'd done things like this before. She'd conveniently failed to mention her success-to-failure ratio.
Jaune began to work the chisel under the window, scraping, scratching, pushing, and praying it gave way soon. A relief that the backyard has such a high fence and plenty of trees on this side. No one would see him unless they were looking from above or peeking over the fence, but passersby and cars would still be able to see him, so this had to be done quickly.
I am actually breaking into someone's house, Jaune couldn't believe it even when the window let out a creak as it popped open, and a guilty flash of accomplishment ran up his spine. It shouldn't have been exciting in the slightest, and yet some part of him relished the thought.
He tested the window to ensure it'd pull up all the way, then put his tools in the small bag he had, slid it under a crawl space in the house, and hoisted himself up. Peeking inside, he could see the dining room immediately in front of him and the kitchen in the next room over. There was no one he could see, at least not right away.
"I guess the living room will do?"
"Ohohoho," A laugh so forced it made Jaune nearly slip and crack his head on the window. "If it pleases you. I certainly don't mind a place more private."
"Uh, alright? Living room then."
Jaune made sure to move forward, trying to recall the small map they'd made of the house, from old schematics that Peach had somehow gotten her hands on. From some friends she had, apparently.
One foot through now, Jaune tucked himself down, thankful there wasn't anything in the way that he might knock over. Second foot through and he glanced at the living room—Neptune's father had his back turned, while Peach did a surprisingly good job keeping his attention. Jaune caught the window once he was through, slid it down, then tip-toed into the kitchen and, finally, out of sight.
Pressing his back against the wall, Jaune took a quiet breath, calmed his pounding heart a little. Three rooms upstairs. Just three. The stairs were right in front of him. So long as he did this quickly, he'd be out before he knew it. The fire alarm didn't seem nearly so egregious now—he actually could go to jail for this. He couldn't be much of a Hunter of Hearts in there, or at least he didn't want to be. Another breath, sucked it in, let it out silently, remembered the heartbreak in Neptune's eyes.
No backing out now. If Neptune's heart was in distress, then he had to do it. Aunt Peach was reliable and smart, she'd definitely ensure he had enough time to get the job done.
"Oh my, is it hot in here? May I remove my jacket?"
"Uh, you didn't come with one."
Or maybe she'd just screw them both. Yoking up his resolve, Jaune crept up the stairs and prayed for things to go smoothly.
Heh, this bastard was smoother than a summer breeze rolling in on a nuclear winter. A tough adversary, worthy of respect. His mind stayed on the objective, didn't stray even once. Not when Poisoned Peach flapped her blouse to expose just a hint more skin, not when she teased her neck with a flip of her hair, and not when she crossed her legs, waiting for his curious eye to linger there. No, he was a strong, resilient man.
Who'd have thought such a thing could exist in this wild town?
"So considering your son, I'd like to preface this by saying there isn't much for you to be concerned about," Peach began. "He's very well behaved. I can only imagine good manners like his come from a stern upbringing."
Mister Vasilias didn't show much response to that. No smile and no frown. As blaise as something which could be described as such. "That sounds like him. I make it an effort to push the importance of carrying himself respectably."
"It certainly shows, sir." It showed quite aggressively, based on what her nephew had told her. Did this bastion of platitude perhaps push his son a bit too hard? "I struggle to be, well, assertive, with my nephew. I envy your ability to control your son, if I may be honest."
Lewis rubbed his knee as he stared at the wall. Peach noticed there was a nail in the wall, scratches in the shape of a frame. Undoubtedly a photo that had been taken down relatively recently. "I can't say it's easy, but for the sake of your kids, you have to do things you might not want to so they succeed. Have to give them a rough hand. A hard wake-up call. They'll appreciate it when they're older."
"Is there any advice you can offer me?"
He seemed to think on that. "You have to be firm. Harsh, sometimes. For their benefit, so they can have a better experience in life than you." Lewis's eyes hardened, mouth curling like he was tasting something disgusting. "Do whatever you must to keep them on the straight. So they don't make the mistakes you do."
"Of course." But even a dark, sinful woman like herself knew there were limits. You could only raise children to be wise enough to learn from mistakes, not to prevent them from making them at all. You had to let go at some point. Let them fly, and crash, and have the strength to fly again. Even if it hurt to watch them fall. "And that's the approach you take with your boy?"
"I feel its the right approach. There are many things I wasted in the pursuit of things that ultimately... did not go anywhere. I teach my son not to make those same mistakes." He turned back to her and away from the wall, "Or I try to."
"Hm. I see," Peach wrote some nonsense on her clipboard. "Well, his grades are very good. Excelling in science, most notably. No detentions, and his behavior in school is lauded by the teachers. I'm sure I don't need to tell you what he's most known for. He's brought a lot of pride and accomplishment to the swim team."
No reaction. No smile or frown.
"First places across the board, even at local events. I remember seeing him at the fair in one of the competitions. He takes to the water like a newborn shark." But some sharks ate their offspring, as Peach had once learned. The ocean was a savage place where even the new and innocent could be chewed up and spat out. But by their parent? No child would ever think the predator would be the one meant to care for them. "Is that something he'd like to make a career out of? Perhaps that's a bit ambitious, but at his age, he's barely gotten started. He could make something great of himself with all that latent talent."
"I've told him as much myself. My son has a gift. A very valuable gift that can afford him many opportunities in life. In my experience, you don't let those talents go to waste."
"Forgive me for being so blunt, but I can say I was rather disappointed when he chose to leave the team. Even now, I can't imagine it, not after so much success."
"If only I could get him to understand that!" Lewis exclaimed. He caught himself and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, I never should have said that."
"No, it's fine. I completely understand." Oh, Poisoned Peach understood alright. This was a topic she could exploit, and she leaned forward to ensure he could see her interest. "It's heartbreaking to see our children waste their full potential, isn't it?"
He sank right in, like a snail in a bed of molasses. "It is. Very much so. I've told him again and again—"
She had him ranting, that would definitely buy Jauneathan some extra time. People liked talking more than listening, people liked being heard more than hearing others. The essence of human conflict. A "Yes" here, an "Unbelievable" there, perhaps a shake of the head in agreeing disappointment, and he was putty in her hands.
She just hoped her nephew was making progress.
This was far from making progress.
Jaune pulled his mask out so he could breathe, dug under to wipe away the sweat, scratched the itch the fabric left on his face. The guest room had been a cluster of storage, but nothing of any interest to him. It made him realize he didn't have a clue of what exactly he was looking for. Less a search of the place and more of an observation. A study, of a kind.
What in this house could tell him more about what Neptune was going through? What could answer the questions running around in Jaune's head? The guest room had provided no clues on that front.
He could hear Neptune's father downstairs, yelling, or venting it sounded more like. Didn't sound like they were done yet though, so Jaune moved on to the room at the end of the hall. Best to get that one out the way now so he didn't get cornered.
Nothing particularly notable inside. Though the king-sized bed ruled out it being Neptune's room. Essentials like a TV and dressers. Dead plants by the crusty window and a large black case poking out from under the bed. A bass guitar case as he came to find when he pulled it out a bit. He tried to open it, but found that it had a lock. Strange, what was the point in putting it under lock and key?
That's when he saw the shelf sitting right above the dresser. Golden trophies, dark plagues, and gleaming awards, were framed beautifully on top of it. Done with extreme care, too. The shelf was so clean that the wood had a trace of shine to it. The trophies were spaced neatly apart as if each one had a settled nest meticulously crafted for them. Champion of this, First place that. They weren't Neptune's father's—the plaques all had his son's name on them. But they were in the father's room? Why?
He looked down at the desk itself. Dust covered it like a thin blanket of snow. And strangely, all the pictures had been turned face-down, leaving their stands coated in dust as well. Jaune couldn't help but picture bodies half-buried in ash, forgotten and left to waste away.
He lifted one up that showed some evidence of being touched recently. Neptune looked maybe thirteen or fourteen, wearing a swimsuit and holding up a small black plaque Jaune recognized from the shelf. His father on one side smiling, his mother on the other. Jaune lingered on the mother a moment. Divorced three years ago... then it was sometime after this, most likely. Jaune looked around the room. Felt small in it. A cold chill of lonely quiet. The room was much too big for one person. There wasn't enough personality to it.
Jaune then thought back to the guest room. Was it because the stuff in there is the wife's? If she was gone for three years, then clearly that stuff didn't matter to her. At least, not more than leaving.
Was this how Neptune felt too, in a home this big with only two people? Suddenly, it made sense why the pictures had been put down. How could a man sleep with his ex-wife staring him in the face? How did you sleep knowing that she wasn't there with you? That for whatever reason, the one you had a child with was not with you anymore?
Jaune put the picture down. Stared at the desk, then the shelf. So the wife was gone and clearly it still had some effect on the husband even after three years. So why the trophies on his wall? Why not Neptune's wall or in the living room? The father would be the only one looking at them in here really. Even laying on his bed, he likely still had a good view of them.
Jaune scraped his teeth with his tongue in thought. It didn't make sense, and something about the shelf just felt uncomfortable. Seeing all of Neptune's accomplishments on someone else's wall just didn't feel right, even if it was his father.
But there was no more time to linger. He headed right for the last room.
"We do what we can for them and they treat us like this? They complain that things are unfair, but don't even think about how their parents may feel. Kids," Mister Vasilias shook his head.
"Yes, absolutely." Poisoned Peach was a calm person, even in the face of death. But she had to admit, Poisonburg had spat out a truly toxic man in Lewis Vasilias. Her pen threatened to snap between her fingers and as the seconds passed, she was getting closer. He sounded no different than a spoiled, entitled child, even if some part of her could see where the frustration was coming from.
"I sacrificed everything I could have been for that boy. But he won't use the talents I gave him to make something of himself? It's idiotic and disrespectful!"
"Oh, completely." The talents he gave him? Did he look at himself in the mirror and congratulate himself on that? Good job Lewis, truly you are the pinnacle of fatherhood for fertilizing an egg.
Lewis let out a growling sigh, shifting back in his seat. He was red in the face now, and his chest rose and fell as he steadied his breaths. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone off like that. You're here for a report, not to hear about my problems."
"It's absolutely fine, sir. Us parents have to work together. It might take a village to raise a child, but it takes a lot of adults to make a village." She wasn't sure if that was exactly how the analogy worked, but it was probably good enough.
"I couldn't agree more. Since my wife, I..." he shook his head. "Nevermind. Look, if you'll be going back to the school, I'd like to donate my son's equipment."
"Didn't you buy those yourself?" And top of the line too. From what she remembered, he spared no expense ensuring that his son had the best equipment for the competitions.
"It's not a problem at all. It's better that it goes somewhere of use since all it does it collect dust around here. Let me grab them for you."
"U-uh," Peach stammered. Shit, she hadn't gotten a message from Jaune yet. Nor did she see him come back downstairs. "That's perfectly fine, sir! I'm sure the swim team can coast along on what they have!"
He gave her a confused look. "Even so, I'd been planning to help support the competitions more anyway. As an apology for my son letting them down."
"Ah fuck" was the kind of thing you said when things were going wrong. Like when a beautiful woman like herself walked in the office, blanketed in a thick fur coat. Perhaps an ace detective like herself thought she might get some action when she ripped that coat apart, only to find herself nose to nose with a fully loaded Forty-four Magnum. Lewis Vasilias was that magnum and Peach was damn near out of ideas. If he caught her nephew, it was over.
But when you were Poisoned Peach, ace detective, you were like a midget at a urinal: always on your toes.
"Oh, Mister Vasilias!" He turned around. That was bad, no, it was good. She had him. Now… now she had to do it. She was the most dangerous woman in all of Poisonburg, after all. "I have to admit something to you. You were right that surprise check-ups aren't normal." Peach issued off her glasses so he could look directly into her eyes. Amazing then that she forgot she was legally blind without them and he looked like little more than a smudge. "I wasn't issued to come here by the school. The truth is, that was all a lie."
He stepped toward her, at least she guessed. But he didn't look very happy, or sound anyway. "What? Then I hope you have a damn good reason for doing so, ma'am, or I'll be reporting you."
Time to sink her teeth in her prey. To use her irresistible charm to woo him into sure submission. "Well, if I might be so bold, I must admit that you have had me quite smitten for the longest time."
"What?"
Yeah, Poisoned Peach, what? "I've tried not to fraternize with my student's parents, to hold myself to my duty as a guidance counselor. But I couldn't hold myself back any longer. I've felt this way for years, you see…"
Peach looked into his eyes, or the smudges of them. "No longer can I deny it. I'm desperately in love with you!"
There was a pause. Lewis stepped closer, and Peach nearly stepped back. Had it worked? Had her wiles and pheromones been so powerful that he'd become a horny animal? Ready to pounce and make a claim? Truly the sins of this dark world gave way to monsters of all forms. And she, the vile succubus she was, was the worst of them all.
"My home is hardly the right place for this. If that was the truth, you simply could have approached me at a more appropriate time. I will have to ask you to leave, Miss Peach, this is clearly a violation of your job or you wouldn't have been so hesitant."
No! How had her charms not worked? Peach was more than confident enough to be honest with how she looked. God damn it, she looked great for her age. Which was definitely in her late twenties and nothing more. This arrogant bastard couldn't see how irresistible she was? Wasn't he lonely or something?
"P-please, give me a chance!" He was already beginning to push her toward the door. "A date! Coffee! Lunch! I want to get to know you, Lewis!"
"Another time! You have to go!" He wouldn't budge. Poisonburg was truly full of anomalies. Peach was so used to men throwing themselves at her, which they definitely always have, that to see a man who resisted her powerfully was not only a surprise. But an insult on her pride. The impala did not hunt the lion.
But then again, the lions didn't do the hunting. And if this lion would not bite, then the lioness would have to. Man, she was so deep.
And so was her tongue after she tackled him to the floor.
Neptune's room was smaller, but far more packed. Messier too, surprisingly.
Distinctly different than the clean, sharp, and respectable way Neptune carried himself—his room all but proved he was still a guy inside. Still neater than Jaune's room back home. But then, part of him wondered if the messy room hadn't always been normal. If he cared so much about keeping his hair styled, then why not show his room the same effort?
He did hear that people could be messier when they were going through something, in the same way they could be neglectful of their health. Happened to Saphron when she went through a bad break-up once, so it was certainly possible here.
Jaune looked around, while at the same time trying not to feel awful about it. How was he going to look Neptune in the face tomorrow? Hey man, was just looking through your drawers. Found your porn magazines. Had my hands all over your personal belongings. How's your day?
A TV, a Gamestation, a handful of games scattered around. One with an interesting picture caught his eye. A hunk of a man in a speedo, holding a great white shark over his shoulders as he smiled confidently at its potential buyer. In bold white letters, it spelled across the case, "Swimming Simulator."
Gods, that was sad.
Jaune put the game back and continued to look around. A closet of clothes and personal belongings but not much else. Nothing under the bed. His desk had a big mirror that was kept particularly clean but also had a big crack stemming from a huge origin point. That at least proved he had a snapping point. On the desk, there were hair gels, lotions everywhere, eyelash trimmers, combs, and even a little makeup. The family photos made Jaune look twice... especially the one with Weiss.
Could they have looked any more like a teen rom-com couple? Weiss didn't look right with a smile, she just didn't, and yet there it was. The way the sun hit the photo almost made her glow. Neptune had his arm around her waist, cheeks tinged pink, smiling stupidly at the camera as if he'd just had the most perfect day of his life. A couple of stupid kids in love with the idea of love, or perhaps Jaune was just being a cynic.
It was funny to think about, a moment captured in time where things seemed so unequivocally good. Juxtaposed by the cold truth that in no way did the good times indicate they'd last forever. They happened, then they were gone. In the moment, Neptune probably felt like they were going to be together forever. Perhaps his father had thought the same about his wife.
There wasn't much else beyond that. Checked the bed again, the drawers, the closet, and all resulted in nothing. Maybe this was it then. Cut his losses and go before things got bad.
He grabbed the doorknob, but paused at a drawer he'd left open. Only he swore he'd closed it, since he made an effort to make sure none of them were left open. This one was ajar though, noticeably so. Either he'd forgotten about it… or he'd never checked that one in the first place. Inside revealed a small black journal inside, one he definitely didn't recall seeing.
A journal, most likely. Neptune's very deepest, most personal feelings were in this little thing. Something no one was supposed to see. That was the whole point of it. It wasn't right, even holding it.
He knew it wouldn't matter, but Jaune whispered an apology anyway. It was the least he could do.
It wasn't filled out much, surprisingly. Twenty or so entries, he was guessing. Hell, the book itself still looked new. No wear and tear from long time use. Clearly, there'd been a point where he hadn't needed it. He turned to the first page and mumbled it out under his breath as he read.
I heard people keep journals for a lot of reasons—cuz they have no one to talk to, to destress, to get out feelings they're too scared to voice. Guess I'm the latter.
It's stupid, but I guess I'll give it a try.
I…
And it trailed off. Like he'd stopped to think and either forgot what he wanted to write, or decided not to go through with it. Jaune flipped to the next page.
The swim team today... Another trail off. Jaune imagined it was awkward. How in the hell did you talk to something that couldn't respond? Did you tell it your whole story? Only you would read it, after all. Jaune flipped to the next one.
Okay, I guess I just won't go into too much, try to keep these entries short.
I thought about mom today. I miss her. A lot. Dad says he's too busy to take me, says that Mom is too broke to come up here. I asked if he'd give her money to come up here, but he said she should be able to pay her way. I guess that's fair, even if it doesn't feel like it.
I'm not dumb, I get why he won't pay for her. But I wish he'd do it anyway. For me. Maybe that's selfish, but he's my dad…
Shouldn't he love me more than he hates her?
So it wasn't just a bad divorce, but a bitter, antagonistic one. Hard to pick a side there, if Jaune even could. Whatever the wife did, it hurt her husband more than her son. Enough that he refused to let her see him. Jaune swallowed. He couldn't imagine what that felt like for Neptune, being in the middle of that. The two people that are supposed to love you being unable to compensate with one another to make you happy.
Jaune flipped through a few more pages, most of whom were just him venting about the day, some school things. Then one caught his eye.
One about the swim team.
Sage is probably the only one on the team that doesn't hate my guts. Everyone else won't even look at me. Cara hates me, but how can I blame her? I dumped her for Weiss and look where that led me. I wonder if they're laughing at me now. Calling me a loser like dad does.
Goes without saying, but Yang won't talk to me right now. And for good reason. I can't even look at Ruby without feeling ashamed. Sun said they wouldn't ignore me forever, and I believe him, but I wish it could happen right now. I wish they'd understand where I'm coming from.
I have no one to blame but myself. They were everything I had and... I let them down.
I deserve to be hated.
Only what happened? He was being blue-balled at this point. Jaune scanned through the pages again. More stuff about his parents, about his friends, then... Weiss.
I still think about how I only pursued Weiss at first because I wanted to sleep with her. I think about the time I told her that too and... she wasn't angry with me.
It was normal for her to be wanted for superficial things. Her money, her influence, her body. Makes me think about all the people that approached her before me. About the suitors her father wanted to marry her to.
Even when we were together, we didn't have sex. She wanted to wait. And I was okay with that. It felt like we didn't need to jump into things. All the other girls I dated I probably slept with within the month. But not Weiss.
She's so confident. So strong-willed, so much more than me. I wonder how she does it, how she stays so tough against a life much harder than mine, and sometimes it makes me feel pathetic. I'm crying because I miss my mom, while she has to deal with harassment on a daily basis. She never made me feel like my problems didn't matter though. She listens to me and she tells me what I should do. I just wish I could follow her advice.
Now... things are different. She doesn't outright ignore me. Actually, she treats me like how she did before we started dating. It almost makes the time she spent not talking to me seem long ago. That should make me feel better. I have my friends back, even if the swim team won't talk to me, I still have Sun and Yang and Ruby. I should be happy.
But I'm not. I feel worse than ever about what I did.
Why? Jaune flipped through the pages faster. Felt worse about what? He demanded. But there were no more pages and Jaune had to resist the urge to tear it apart. This cleared up his family life, and the team's hate for him must have stemmed from him quitting. Maybe. But Weiss? Neptune made it sound like he'd screwed up with her somehow, enough that his friends didn't want to talk to him for a while.
But they'd seemed pretty chummy when he met Yang, so clearly what he'd done wasn't bad enough that they'd stopped associating with him. Not even bad enough for Weiss to cut him out of her life. So what happened? What did he do?
Jaune then had a thought, looked at the journal. Wondered if the warm feeling in his palms was just because he'd been holding it too long... or it was something else.
Could the journal be Neptune's key?
He closed his eyes, tried to initiate the dive like Peach had trained him to. Tried a few times. But nothing.
Of all things, it wasn't his journal? The thing he poured his heart into? Now he got why finding a key took so much time. It wasn't obvious in the slightest. Jaune looked around the room. Did he have enough time to try anything else?
"Oh please, Lewis! Take me!" Aunt Peach screamed from downstairs.
"Get off me!"
Well, that was a time to go if he'd ever heard one.
A relief that Neptune's dad didn't want to kiss her, despite how hard she was trying. Equally mortifying that he didn't want to kiss her. I mean, yeah some things weren't as perky anymore, but she still had some junk in the trunk, as the kids might say. Did kids say that still?
"Don't you think I'm pretty, Lewis? Come on! Give me a chance!" She tried to press her lips on him, attacked his neck even though she really didn't want to.
"Get off of me!" He struggled. He eventually managed to get a grip of her, flip her over. At times, Peach forgot she wasn't in a Heart World, or she'd have punted him into the wall. Humbling thing, coming back from being so physically powerful to not being able to overpower even young men.
It was hard being such a beautiful, frail, and definitely young, woman. Even if she was a badass ace detective.
"Are you insane?" Lewis barked, "What the hell is wrong with you, woman?"
"U-uh, my womb! Yes, my womb rocks emptily inside me! It needs to be filled up!"
"Huh!?"
"I need you to kick my ovaries into hyperdrive, Lewis! I'm still fertile, I can have lots of children! And I'm very willing to be experimental when we're getting down to business!" Desperation definitely wasn't the MO of a dangerous femme fatale badass ace detective, but at this point, she just wanted to see her nephew diving out the window. "Destroy me, Lewis! Beat on my bottom like a bottle of ketchup!"
She might have kept going, but stuffed it when she saw Jaune reach the bottom of the steps. Creep toward the window, and crawl out. Raising a thumbs up to the window for her to see.
"Actually, I'm late for an appointment! And I've been sterile all my life. Gotta go!"
Peach bit Lewis's hand, then kicked him off her. There was a loud snap as one of her heels gave way. Son of a bitch. Peach snatched off her shoes and bolted, remembered her clipboard, came back to get it, and pushed Lewis back onto the floor right as he was about to get up. "Sorry!"
"You'd better believe the school will hear about this, Miss Peach! You'll be lucky if I don't call the police!"
Peach hurried down the stairs, pebbles digging into her feet. Hardly fitting of the graceful devil Poisoned Pea—ah screw it, who was she kidding? People gawked at her and she could only imagine the sight. A bedraggled woman, blouse fully unbuttoned, dashing shoeless down the street. She might have laughed herself if she wasn't so panicked and out of breath.
Didn't even bother charging into the house, just sat on her messy porch and buried her face in her hands. She didn't wait for Jaune for long, and he'd already abandoned his mask. But she wished he hadn't.
Because the face he had on was one of the purest disbelieving consternation.
"Uh, you might hear some things about me at school. People might ask you things. Just, uh, ignore them." She didn't doubt that Lewis would file that harassment report. She wouldn't get fired, of course. But that story would spread like wildfire. A big, toxic, humiliating wildfire.
"Like a bottle of ketchup?" Jaune squinted at her.
"I had to think of something, you were taking forever!"
"Experimental?"
"The world's full of variety, Jaune! You have to be open-minded!" Peach pouted then. "He wouldn't fall for my subtle seduction tactics. Why?"
"Because he's bitter from the last woman in his life. I don't think it has anything to do with you."
"B-but I'm hot!" Peach cried. "Students used to hit on me all the time! I'm hot, aren't I?"
"That's not something you should ask me. And I don't want to know that my peers are hitting on you, either, Miss Ketchup Bottle."
This just wasn't a fair day in the slightest. She'd embarrassed herself, was going to get reported for sexual harassment and unsolicited teacher conduct, and some hateful old man wasn't affected by her feminine wiles despite how undoubtedly gorgeous, young, and deadly she was. Peach pouted harder. "Jaune, am I old?"
Jaune rolled his eyes as he helped her up and walked her into the house. Any moment now, she'd hear it. The blunt honesty. Yes, Auntie, you're a wilted banana, a wrinkled towel, a flaccid cock, destroying her womanly confidence forever. How many spicy chicken wings would she have to eat to convince herself that she wasn't crying?
"No, Aunt Peach," Jaune said as he sat her on the couch. "You're young and... uh... beautiful, or something."
He was just saying it to make her feel better, of course. But the fact that he made the effort to lie just to make her feel better was more than enough. "You're too sweet, nephew. Good job today."
"You too. What's for dinner?"
"Let's order fried chicken. They've got a forty piece deal going on right now."
Jaune shrugged. "Fine with me. So long as you don't order any ketchup."
Peach poked him in the cheek, caught his smile. His mother's smile at that. "I suggest you let that go now, or it's your bottom I'll be beating on. You're not too old for an ass-whooping."
Jaune raised his hands defensively. "Apparently neither are you."
This cheeky brat.
I'm enjoying this fic too much.
ISA