Arc 3 - Chapter 10 - Evil Heroes

Water crashed against Jaune's face and woke him with a sputtering start. Felt a lot like getting slapped. He coughed and wheezed, the water in his eyes clearing away the murk of unconsciousness. It only took him a moment to remember what happened, and just a moment longer to piece together what had occurred while unconscious. And suddenly, getting splashed with a bucket of water seemed like a mere prelude to future brutality.

He lay on a cold floor that smelled of ash and old cement, his ankles and wrists bound in thick rope. Restraints that seemed kind of pointless, considering he had enough super strength to rip them apart. Which my captors had to have taken into account. Which means it's a formality. A warning. We dare you to try to escape. The situation being what it was, Jaune could only wipe the water from his eyes with his tied hands, awkwardly shimmy upright into a sitting position, and get a look about the area as his vision adjusted.

It seemed to be a loading dock. Moreover, a loading dock for boats and ships. Storage units were bundled together in short piles, all huge wooden crates, set about the warehouse like stacks of children's building blocks. There were mounted and mobile lifts scattered about, looking like they'd been in use before being suddenly abandoned, doing little else now but collecting dust. There was no electrical lighting. Instead, tall torch poles were burning with flickering blue flames set in the corners of the room, clarifying the area with a pale and ghostly aura, staving off the silence with the faint hiss and crack of struggling fire. As if there is little time left. No fire burns forever. And the strongest flames die the fastest. Jaune wondered if that was representative of the people gathered around him. Wondered if it might also represent himself.

He counted nine. Some stood with their arms crossed, others leaned against crates or sat on top of them. One in particular sat on a particularly high stack, dangling a folded parasol on her finger like a pendulum, while staring down at him with an intrigued smirk. Like a child watching an insect. Jaune spotted the man and woman who'd taken him, the former putting up an apologetic smile and shrug, while the other stared down at him with the kind of glare that implied that any possible friendship between them could only exist in an alternate timeline. Which was impressive considering she was wearing sunglasses.

It was silent for a long moment. Nothing but the sound of crackling flames as Jaune stared at each of his captors and they stared back. Having no idea what to say, or who would begin, Jaune ventured with the first thing he could be sure of. "I guess you already would have if you wanted to kill me."

Sunglasses looked toward a man who was sitting on a lone crate in the center of the group. A big guy, burly and heavy, looking about as superhuman as a human being could. He had short dark hair swept to the sides and a doorstep of a jaw that looked so sturdy that it might break the fist of whoever tried to punch him there. But it was his eyes that Jaune focused on. Seeming to give away a plethora of harmonious contradictions. Deep and empty, tortured yet tranquil, cold with just a sliver of warmth. A man who seemed near entirely surrendered to the beast within, and just barely holding on to the broken pieces of his humanity. Jaune felt his heartbeat increase from just meeting his eye, and it took all his willpower not to look away.

Jaune supposed it fair to assume this man was the one in charge, so he cleared his throat in an attempt to settle his shaking heart and directed his proposal to him. "I guess you've got questions. So do I," He swallowed. "A trade. That way no one gets hurt." Namely me.

A couple of the others had a chuckle at his brash statement, which at the very least proved they were all indeed human. Rather than machines like the agents of the Organization. Even the Leader's mouth seemed to curl slightly. Sunglasses only frowned deeper.

The Leader gave Jaune a simple, slow nod. "Very well. We trade. As you're our guest, you may ask the first question. I will not lie. I hope you can do the same."

Jaune had been planning on a bit of lying, but then that had gotten him into this situation. Still, there was no telling what these people were after. Or why they'd taken him of all people. They couldn't know who he was. Could they? Only one way to find out.

"Do you know who I am?"

The Leader looked up towards the parasol woman, and she looked back, giving him a grin and shrug. The Leader turned back to him. "You are Jaune Arc. Victarine Peach's son."

Jaune blinked. "Nephew."

Again the Leader and Parasol exchanged glances. The former sent an inquisitive eyebrow, the latter waving her hand airily as if she'd made some mistake, yet considered it a non-issue.

"Nephew, then," said the Leader. "Your name has been mentioned in the circlings of the Hunter's Church. You've made quite a name for yourself."

Hunters Church? Jaune nearly blurted it out, but managed to control himself. Best to play this game patiently and ask the right questions.

"Our turn. What business could Victarine's nephew be up to in the Public Domain?"

That term again. "An accident. I was doing community service work and fell in. Haven't been down here for very long. That's the truth, I swear."

"We'll see."

That was probably the best response Jaune could hope for. He pressed on with perhaps the most pressing question he'd had since this madness had started. "What's the Public Domain?"

Sunglasses' eyebrows went up and a man in a bowler hat leaned on his cane while breaking out in laughter. "Did Vick teach you anything, kid?"

Jaune was beginning to ask himself that same question. "What's the Public Domain?" he asked again, directing it at the leader.

"It is, in simple terms, a heart world that simultaneously belongs to no one, everyone, and one man. Anyone in the world can fall into it, and yet this world is not their own. Countless people have fallen into this place in the last century, and many more have perished here. Very few are found."

"Even fewer escape," said Bowler Hat with a twirl of his cane.

Well, that certainly answered his question. While unfortunately bringing on a dozen more. First off, a heart world that anyone could fall into? As far as he knew, you could only accidentally drop into your own heart world. It required knowledge and intent to dive into someone else's. But the leader had also mentioned that this world also belonged to one man. If he wasn't being hyperbolic, then what could that mean? The temptation to keep that line of questions going was hard to resist, but Jaune pursed his lips and listened to the LEader's next question while trying to think up his next one.

The Leader tilted his head forward a bit. "As you are Victarine's pupil, I assume she is, at least currently, under the Superior's employ?"

Currently? What does that mean? Hasn't she always worked for the Organization? "Er, yeah I guess. I don't know all that much. She doesn't tell me anything." Jaune realized that answer was rather dodgy, which was the last way he needed to sound. "But I met a guy called Oobleck through her. I know he's with the Organization."

The leader didn't look unsatisfied with the answer, which Jaune supposed was good enough. Of course, now Jaune was at a crossroads for what question to ask next. He tried to refocus on his goal. Getting out alive, getting back to the girls, getting them home. "Assuming you guys don't kill me, how would I get out of the Public Domain?"

"The gate opens every seven in-world days. Simply do what you would for any heart world. I do not know why it is this way, but the rules of Heart Worlds do not often work by conventional logic." The Leader raised his head back up, his eyes seeming to zero in on Jaune like he was watching for the tiniest movements on his face. "No doubt you've seen a great deal of the Church's underworld. You've seen their operations, their laws, their… unforgiving methods." He paused then, and Jaune realized he was waiting on a response. He nodded. "Then tell me, would you say the Hunters' Church is evil?"

Jaune had to pause. Right away, it seemed like the easiest question to answer possible, and yet he hesitated. Why? "I… I don't know." He thought about Velvet and he knew the answer should be yes. But then he thought of his aunt and couldn't see how she could endorse such evil. And, of course, he considered himself. He had not joined this damn organization with the intent of hurting others. What kind of person would? "I guess some people in it are. But, maybe there's people there trying to do good. Trying to save people."

That gave the room pause. Everyone had varied reactions. Sunglasses tilted her head back in an exasperated sigh. Bowler Hat was cackling like a maniac. Parasol tittered quietly with a hand to her mouth. Jaune already knew he was not in the know about a lot of things, and this was just a classic example of that ignorance, but it was getting very annoying that in his rare instances of genuine honesty, he was either criticized or laughed at.

The Leader's expression was quite different from the others. That neutral face turned into a disapproving frown, his eyebrows curled in, and age lines creased beneath his eyes. It was as if he'd heard this answer before, and after a long time of hearing the same old thing, he had lost patience for it. "A commander may order his soldiers to shoot, but no less, the blame is shared by all. Actions matter, Jaune. Not intentions. All those who mean to do good leave the clutches of the Hunters' Church. The organization itself is built on corruption, whatever you may say."

Jaune would not argue with him on the matter. He'd touched a hot button and didn't need any more enemies. Still, there was more he needed to know. "You're the rebels."

Bowler Hat pointed his cane at him. "Congrats kid. That's the first intelligent thing you've said."

Jaune bit his lip, but focused on the Leader. "So you have beef with the Organization, which I guess is actually called the Hunters' Church. Good to know. I guess that's got to mean that they did something to you. To all of you."

Sunglasses spat angrily at the floor. "Understatement of the fucking year. You got a question for us or what?"

Jaune could only put certain pieces together, but he was starting to gain some kind of picture. A group of wronged people banding together to rebel against a powerful evil organization. He'd ventured this particular plotline in many of the Last Fable games Ruby had gotten him to play. And well, it wasn't as if revolutions were not a historical staple. Why should it be any different with a corrupt, underground, secret organization? As such, it wasn't hard to imagine their end goal. To kill the Superior, to destroy the organization itself, maybe even reform it. It was all much too epic for his concerns. This was out of his depth. Whatever their business, it didn't matter to him. He was not a part of it.

Wait…

Supposing their goal was to kill the Superior and crush the organization, what did that have to do with the Public Domain? Why were they here? Was it a base of operations? Seemed too hostile for that purpose, especially with no freedom to enter and leave at will. Then maybe they were after people in the organization? No doubt there had to be a substantial presence of the Hunters' Church in this desolate place. And if there was a safety camp, then it was possibly controlled by them. But then, would these rebels, these self-proclaimed good guys, attack those camps, possibly getting people hurt just to kill a few agents? It was not impossible. And yet it didn't sound right. There had to be a greater reason for being here in the Public Domain. There would always be more agents. Why hole up in this wasteland if it didn't serve a higher purpose?

Jaune stared right at the Leader as he asked, "What are you looking for in the Public Domain?"

Bowler Hat did not laugh. Parasol did not laugh. Everyone's expressions were the same. Hard and serious. Jaune felt like the lighting had gone down just a little, and he was feeling pressure on his shoulders like something was pressing down on him. He felt it coming from the Leader.

Finally, the man said, "All things come to an end. Even war. Ours will end soon."

"That's not an answer. I thought we agreed on the truth."

"I simply agreed not to lie. Take that for what you will."

Fair point, it had to be said. The Leader was at liberty to lie or refuse to answer and Jaune was not. Why the hell had he assumed he could work over these people? "Well congrats on the end of your stupid war, but I have nothing to do with any of this. There's no point in killing me."

The Leader slowly got to his feet. Even from a fair distance away, Jaune could see that he was much bigger than he had guessed. His footsteps seemed oppressively heavy as he came toward Jaune, growing in height with each stride, while Jaune had to crane his neck back further and further, damn near falling onto his back. He felt the man's shadow cast over him, burying him entirely. "No, I suppose there isn't." the Leader said, "As long as Victarine does what I ask."

Jaune swallowed. "What?"

"Tell your aunt to meet me once more. She will know the rest."

Jaune was lost for what to do, especially with having no idea what the right answer to this question even was. "What if I say no?"

"You cannot."

Another brutal point. He didn't know what power or influence these people had, and if Aunt Peach didn't meet him, he may very well find himself shanked in an alley. Perhaps he could tell Oobleck? Jaune nearly shook his head at the consideration. If he told Oobleck, then that got Peach in trouble, whether she actually knew these people or not. And he hoped she didn't. And he had seen how slights against the organization were punished. The Leader was right. He had no choice.

Defeated, Jaune asked his last question. "Do you know someone named Velvet?"

No answer. Though Jaune did see Sunglasses shift a little.

"They killed her right in front of me. There was nothing I could do." Jaune lowered his head. "I didn't want to be part of that. I don't want to be part of any of this. I was supposed to stay in the shallow end of all this shit."

The Leader's expression softened just a little. A measure of emotionless cold was replaced with a kind of understanding as if was looking upon his younger self making the very mistakes that had set him down his fated path. He said, "The likes of Victarine Peach can only thrive in deep waters."

And Jaune felt a bag be shoved over his head.

Twice now, Jaune was awakened by water being thrown in his face. But at least now his hands weren't tied.

He got a look around him and realized he was back in the derelict city, though now in some industrial outcropping. Like before, the most arresting subject of his attention were those he woke up at the mercy of. Two organization agents were standing above him, looking just the same as the dozens he'd encountered before, making him wonder if they weren't all just the same man but with the power to infinitely clone himself. One held up a torch with a purple flame, bathing them in its eerie light, while the other tucked the emptied water bucket under his arm with a frown.

Behind them was a long warehouse with few lights coming from the windows. Tall torch poles were posted before the door, distant purple flames flickering quietly and igniting the path.

Jaune ventured a guess. "Is this Safety?"

One of the suits frowned at him. "Who asks?"

"The apprentice of Victarine Peach."

No reaction. Stone cold silence. Then the first one nodded his head toward the building. Jaune got to his feet, shirt dripping, and followed the guards inside. He'd been expecting the place to look like some kind of lab, but instead, it had the look of a shelter for the homeless. Indeed, there were dozens of regular people milling about the warehouse just as if they'd lived here their whole lives. It looked just the same as many he had seen before. If you ignore the suits, of course. On the higher floors, there were agents posted at the warehouse's corners, watching through the high windows, notifying each other with hand signals. Watching for Grimm? That would make sense if Grimm were known for sneaking up on people. So who are they looking out for? But he already knew. The rebels. Which means it's not out of the realm of possibility for them to attack a shelter for those lost in the Public Domain. Jaune saw how some of the scattered agents looked at him as he passed through. Maybe the Organization is evil. And he thought about the cold and empty look in the Leader's eyes. But I don't think that necessarily makes the rebels good.

Then he saw them, Blake and Pyrrha sitting at the long table in the center of the room, eating amongst the other people. He didn't even get a chance to call their names before Blake noticed him, she jumped to her feet, but her eyes caught something else and she stopped.

Jaune turned to see that Doctor Oobleck was approaching him now. Because of course, he's here. The doctor stopped before him and dismissed his escorts, staring down at Jaune through those soul-concealing glasses of his. It occurred to Jaune that there were entirely too many self-serious people in the Organization, though perhaps that was for the best. He imagined a devil-may-care personality involved with high-class government operations could only end badly. And wouldn't I know?

"In trouble again, Mister Arc?" asked Oobleck.

Jaune grumbled. "Maybe you and your cronies should have warned me about this place. Would've been good to know."

"That responsibility lies with your trainer."

Hard to deny. Jaune moved on from it and looked toward the girls. They stared after him, Blake looking like she was nursing a metric ton of questions, while Pyrrha simply looked relieved. "Are they okay?"

"They were not harmed. Not before they were found and not after."

"They fell in with me. But they don't know anything. I made sure to keep them in the dark."

Oobleck looked at him. "That is one task which I can congratulate you on. It seems whatever method the Superior used on you has been most effective."

Jaune momentarily entertained the idea of burying his ax into Oobleck's head, consequences be damned. But the idea did not have the charm it used to. He had seen blood splattered and wished to see no more of it, not even from people that probably deserved it. "Am I in trouble again? I fucked up, didn't I? I dragged two innocent people into…" He couldn't reveal he knew the name of this place, Oobleck might ask him where he'd heard it. "This place. Won't our almighty leader be mad?"

"You will be relieved to know that cases like this happen regularly. The Superior does not punish accidents."

Jaune was glad to hear that. More than he wanted to be. He asked Oobleck about the Public Domain without outing that he already knew, and noticed right away that his explanation was more vague than the Rebel Leader's had been. Oobleck only defined the Domain as a shared Heart World between all human beings and nothing else. Meaning the Leader likely wasn't lying to me. Whatever Oobleck is trying to hide is what the rebels are likely after. Then Jaune had a more disturbing thought. Or maybe it's not that simple. How much does Oobleck know? How deep does this rabbit hole go? Is it possible that even people like Oobleck and my aunt are ignorant of the Organization's true secrets? Questions or another time.

Oobleck gestured to an empty bed area by the far wall. "Very well. Get some rest, Mister Arc. We will return to the surface on the morrow. Consider your current crisis well over."

That was a small relief, in truth. Jaune was already anticipating something else going wrong soon enough. What else could he do but try to find some temporary peace? He ambled over to the bed and met the girls as they caught up with him. It was awkward but he accepted Pyrrha as she came in to hug him, thanking god that he was safe.

As for Blake, she simply sat on her cot, put her feet up, and wrapped her arms around her legs, staring at him. "Nice job coming back for us."

"I'm sorry. I got… in some trouble."

Blake didn't question that, thankfully. "That Doctor Oobleck says we need to keep quiet about all of this."

Jaune nodded. "He's right. It'll bring more harm than good. You have to keep all this to yourself, Blake. You too Pyrrha. Promise me that."

Pyrrha nodded vehemently. "I promise."

Jaune looked at Blake. "Well?"

All she did was stare at him with that suspicious look, just like before. Jaune didn't bother waiting on her answer anymore and laid on his bed, turned his back, and tried to get some rest. The girls didn't bother him and for that Jaune was thankful. He was having a hard enough time getting to sleep already.

They resurfaced in what could not be mistaken as an abandoned airport landing strip. It reminded Jaune of those documentaries about places around the world which had been reclaimed by nature due to years of sitting without use. Everything was infested with rust and overgrowth, from the poorly docked planes, to the withered radio towers, to the tattered dirty-white structure of the gargantuan buildings. Pocks of grass had burst from the ground in many places, not quite overtaking the cement, but showing how given enough time the roots of nature would do so eventually. Even the fact that it was still broad daylight outside didn't temper the emptiness of it all. Jaune had to remind himself they were back in the real world, and no longer trapped in the Public Domain.

Because at the moment, they didn't look very different from one another.

There were maybe three or so dozen black cars parked in a disturbingly orderly fashion amongst all the chaos. Each one was waited on by a Church agent. Doctor Oobleck had explained that everyone would be assigned to a car, which would then take them home, or wherever it is they were before the dive. Already, the Doctor was reading off a board and calling out names, the corresponding driver would raise his arm to gesture them over, and people would trip over themselves running toward their saviors. One woman who spoke a different language bowed profusely to Oobleck as she wept, and it took her daughter to finally pull her away.

Jaune watched it all and found that it was… wholesome, somehow.

It was so jarring, to see these black-suited robots comfort the terrified, thankful citizens. They raised no hand of violence against the people in the way they had him, Cinder, and Neptune. Instead, those who were weak-kneed with joy were helped to be walked to their cars, the agents bent down to hug the children. One suit even smiled as a pair of men shook his hand, waving off their praise like saving innocents from otherworldly monsters was nothing to remark upon. It twisted Jaune's guts so tightly even to entertain the thought that these innocent people looked upon these men like heroes.

All while the sound of the gunshot that broke open Velvet's head looped over and over in his mind.

Once most of the people had been sent off, and Oobleck passed his clipboard onto someone else, Jaune stormed right up to him, not at all sure what he was going to say. When he got Oobleck's attention, he had to keep from shouting. "What the hell is all this?"

"You are quite intelligent, Mister Arc. I am sure you can glean the purpose of this endeavor well enough on your own." Oobleck raised an eyebrow. "Did you perhaps think that you are the only man in the world who seeks to do good?"

Jaune opened his mouth to speak. Then realized he had absolutely no retort. He saw an old woman being slowly led to her car. She moved painfully slow, but the agent assigned to her did not rush her. The sight of it made him feel both ashamed and furious. He faced Oobleck once again. "Do you do this all the time?"

"It is one of my primary stations, yes."

"How often do people end up in the Public Domain?"

"We estimate that perhaps a quarter of the world's one percent population has dropped into the Public Domain over the last fifty years."

"Are those good numbers?"

"One percent of eight billion people is exactly eighty million. Most die within hours of the fall. The rest amount to what you see now."

Jaune wished right away that he hadn't asked. And now he couldn't help but think of just how many had not been saved, just like the rebels had said. It seemed they agreed on that particular subject. Even if it was only a fraction of a percentage of people, the number of lives lost was still far too many. On that count, it at least seemed like the Organization was doing something about it. What had the rebels been doing? Holing up in a nasty warehouse, interrogating a teenager. And yet, that didn't change what they'd done to Velvet. To all those people. To him. If the Hunters' Church was evil, the Rebel Leader had said, then this particular showcase was a poor representation of villainy.

Jaune watched as the old woman was helped into the car. "Do you think they'll keep everything they went through secret?"

Oobleck took a moment to answer. "We anticipate that some will attempt to speak out. On the rare chance that their story is believed, it will make no difference. Most people will not believe them. The workings of the Organization have for a long time been a staple of obscure conspiracy theories. Its reputation and place in the public eye have fluctuated many times over the years. But for those who have seen our world first-hand, I am afraid it is more likely they will suffer in silence, or be viewed as madmen."

Jaune frowned. "That's messed up."

"That is human nature. Normal people want the simple lie, not the complicated truth."

"Even you?"

"Not I. If so, I would not be a Hunter."

Jaune had no idea whether to consider that merciful, brutal, or just realistic. It seemed the organization accounted for everything. He heard his and the girls' names being called and watched the girls approach their car, the final destination back to their normal lives.

"What now?" Jaune asked.

"You return to your life, Mister Arc. I suggest you impose that same thing on your two friends, for their safety. The organization still does not tolerate news of its existence being spread. You've been in enough trouble. I suggest you keep an eye on them both." And Oobleck tilted down his glasses so that Jaune could see his razor-sharp dark eyes. "Most especially, Miss Belladonna."

Jaune felt his heart lurch at that, and he looked toward Blake just as she caught his eye. Relief and suspicion wrapped up together. The utter lack of a promise of secrecy. She knew too little to consider a real threat, but it was still just enough to cause a stir if presented a certain way. There was no telling what would trip the Superior's wires, and he was not keen on testing it. He began to make his way to the car as he said, "I'll take care of it."

"You had better, Mister Arc," said Oobleck. "Because if you do not, the Whispers will."

For weeks, Jaune would walk into the house and find no evidence of his aunt's existence except a burnt coffee pot, and the rare occasion of her being asleep in her room. So it was a surprise that he walked in to find her sitting in the living room. No TV on, no music playing, not even on her computer.

Just sat there in her recliner, in dead silence, staring at nothing.

The agents had dropped him and the girls off at the community center, which had worked out well since in real-world time they hadn't been gone for more than fifteen minutes. They'd been able to somewhat acclimate back to the cleaning routine before Adam returned, but no one could have denied the plain anxiety centered on the three of them. Well, really him and Blake. He hadn't gotten the chance to pull her aside, but perhaps that was for the best. It would be better to ask his aunt how best to confront her. Surely she'd have experience with something like this. And if so, what were the circumstances? What choice did you make? Who are you, Aunt Peach?

Right now, she looked like nothing more than a broken woman. He suspected she hadn't even noticed him walk in, and at times it looked like she wasn't blinking. He saw the exhaustion in her eyes, dark bags, and dry skin. She almost looked asleep, in the way a fish would be. Jaune might have asked what was wrong, but he already knew. He was what was wrong. He was a plague on his aunt's life. It could not be denied.

With a guilty sigh, Jaune sat on the couch across from her and said, "Aunt Peach?"

She was startled upright with a gasp, neck straightening. She looked to her left, as if her senses had been lying to her about where the voice had come from, then finally found Jaune. "Hm? Oh. What is it?"

Jaune swallowed. "Something happened today."

"Good or bad?"

Jaune gave her no answer. Mostly because there was no way to say it that was better than pure silence. When do I ever bring home good news?

Peach didn't even sigh like she was disappointed. She simply sat up like a businesswoman conducting yet more of the same tired work and gave him a flat look. Cold, distant, emotionless. "Alright. Tell me."

And he relayed it all. No sugar coating, no half-truths, no lies. By the end, Peach hadn't shifted her expression even once. Simply nodding along or humming after a particularly long section of the story had ended. She looked so utterly unaffected by it all that Jaune wished she'd get angry at him. That she'd yell at him or even hit him. Anything so he could see that she still cared about him. That she still loved her disappointment of a nephew. He couldn't even get that. And why should I, after I hurt her multiple times now? She deserves better than me.

Peach raised a brow at him. "Do you trust Blake and Pyrrha to keep quiet?"

Jaune shrugged. "I think we can count on Pyrrha. She seemed willing to forget it even happened. Blake… doesn't trust me. Which I guess makes sense. I'm trying to figure out what I can do but—"

Peach slowly got to her feet, cutting him off without a word. Jaune anticipated that she might have some plan in mind or might go through with yelling at him, but she didn't do either. Instead, she ambled into her room and started rummaging through her drawers. She pulled something out, then made her way back into the living room. But not back to the chair, but to the door.

Jaune jumped to his feet. "Where are you going?"

"Just out on the porch. You have school tomorrow. Wash up and get to bed."

"But, what about what the rebels said? What do they want from you?"

"It's none of your concern, Jaune." Peach had begun fumbling open a tiny box and pulled out a short white tube between the pointer and middle fingers. A cigarette.

Jaune stared blankly. She smoked? Since when? He had never seen her smoke before. Not once. Never even smelled the evidence of it. He watched her head out the door, not even bothering to close it, then sat down on the porch with a grunt. He heard the flick-flick of the lighter, the low 'fucking piece of shit' she muttered as the lighter refused to produce a flame, then once it did light, he saw the end of the cigarette burn. She took a deep, heavy drag, more like she was drinking it, then blew a plume of white smoke out into the night.

It hit him deep in the heart and made tears well up, the very obvious truth in front of him, that there was so much about his aunt he did not know.

It was very likely that he had no idea who Victarine Peach was.

Once again, he had let her down. Even if she hadn't shown it. All Jaune could do was slink down to his room, drop into his bed, and wish he had never become a Hunter, after all.

Man, this chapter took forever. So glad I finally got it done. I'm hoping that I'm over this writer's block hurdle and can get back to faster updates. I guess we'll see.

Next chapter is an Interlude chapter. I'd tell you which but it plenty obvious after this chapter.