Disclaimer: Don't own either Rwby or Type Moon. So enjoy or don't
Chapter 3: Awakening in Menagerie
The sun began its ascent over the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the tranquil waters off the coast of Menagerie. The rhythmic sound of waves gently lapping against the boat provided a serene backdrop as a group of Faunus fishermen set out for their daily catch. The men, each displaying a unique blend of animal traits—sharp eyes, keen noses, and sensitive ears—moved with practiced ease, their actions harmonious and efficient.
As the fishermen spread their nets and prepared their lines, the youngest of the group, a boy with sharp eagle-like vision, suddenly stiffened. His eyes, scanning the water's surface, locked onto a distant, dark shape drifting aimlessly.
"Over there!" he called out, pointing towards the figure with urgency. The others paused, following his gaze.
"Is that...a person?" one of them murmured, concern lacing his voice.
Without hesitation, they rowed their boat towards the mysterious figure. As they drew nearer, the outline became clearer—a boy, unconscious and adrift. His clothes were soaked, clinging to his frail frame, and his face was pale and devoid of color.
"Quick, pull him in!" another fisherman urged, his voice a blend of anxiety and determination.
With practiced efficiency, they maneuvered their boat alongside the boy and carefully hauled him aboard. The eldest fisherman, a burly man with bear-like strength, lifted the boy effortlessly, laying him down gently on the deck.
"He's breathing, but barely," the fisherman with fox ears noted, his sharp hearing confirming the faint rise and fall of the boy's chest. Relief washed over them, but it was tempered with urgency.
"Wait," the fisherman with the eagle-like vision said, leaning closer to get a better look at the boy's features. "He's human."
A collective silence fell over the group. The discovery added a new layer of complexity to their situation. Menagerie, a haven for Faunus, seldom saw human visitors, and this boy's presence was both unexpected and puzzling.
"What do we do?" one of the younger fishermen asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
The leader of the group, a wolf Faunus with a commanding presence, made a decisive call. "Human or not, he's in need. We can't just leave him. Let's get him to shore. He needs help, and fast."
The fishermen rowed with renewed vigor, their strokes strong and synchronized.
As they approached the shoreline of Kuo Kuana, Menagerie's vibrant capital, the city's early morning hustle and bustle greeted them. The port was alive with activity—ships docking, merchants unloading goods, and townspeople beginning their day. The aroma of freshly caught seafood mingled with the salty sea air, creating a unique blend of scents that defined the bustling harbor.
The fishermen navigated their boat through the crowded waters, their shouts to other vessels blending with the ambient noise of the port. They were greeted with curious glances as they disembarked, carrying the unconscious boy with care. The boy's presence, clearly human, caused a ripple of whispers among the townspeople.
"Make way! We need a healer!" one of the fishermen called out, his voice echoing through the narrow alleys. The urgency in his tone cut through the morning din, drawing attention and concern.
A path quickly cleared as a local healer, an elderly Faunus woman with gentle eyes and a nurturing demeanor, rushed forward. Her cat-like ears twitched with worry as she assessed the boy's condition. "Bring him to my clinic," she instructed, her voice calm but authoritative.
The fishermen followed her through the winding streets of Kuo Kuana. The city's architecture was a blend of rustic charm and practical design, reflecting the Faunus' deep connection to nature and their resourcefulness. Colorful banners fluttered in the breeze, and the vibrant chatter of market vendors filled the air as they hawked their wares.
Children playing in the streets paused to watch the unusual procession, their eyes wide with curiosity. Some of the adults whispered among themselves, speculating about the boy's origins and what had brought him to Menagerie. The fishermen, faces lined with worry, focused solely on their task, grateful for the healer's swift assistance.
"We must also inform the chieftain," the lead fisherman said decisively as they reached the clinic. "He needs to know about this."
Nodding in agreement, one of the younger fishermen set off towards the central square where the chieftain's home stood, hoping that Ghira Belladonna would understand the urgency of their request.
Ghira Belladonna, a towering figure of strength and compassion, sat in his modest but well-appointed study, poring over documents related to the governance of Menagerie. His office was a reflection of his personality: sturdy wooden furniture, walls lined with books and maps, and a large window that allowed natural light to flood the room. His ears twitched as he heard the commotion outside. A guard entered, bowing respectfully.
"Chieftain Ghira, some fishermen have requested an audience. They bring with them an unconscious boy they found adrift."
Ghira's brows knitted in concern. "Bring them in."
The fishermen were ushered into the study, their faces a mixture of anxiety and hope. They stood before Ghira, the embodiment of leadership, with broad shoulders and a commanding presence softened by his compassionate eyes. He rose from his desk, his tall frame imposing yet welcoming.
"Please, tell me what happened," Ghira said, his deep voice calm and authoritative.
The fishermen recounted their discovery, detailing how they found the boy lifeless on the water and their decision to bring him here for help. As they spoke, Ghira's expression shifted from curiosity to deep concern. He listened intently, nodding occasionally to show he was following their story.
"He was just floating there," the lead fisherman explained, "unconscious and barely breathing. We knew we had to act quickly, so we brought him here, hoping he could receive the help he needs."
Ghira's eyes softened as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. "You did the right thing. Thank you for your quick thinking and kindness."
One of the younger fishermen, unable to contain his curiosity, spoke up. "Chieftain, do you think he will be alright?"
Ghira placed a reassuring hand on the young man's shoulder. "We will do everything in our power to ensure he recovers. Your actions may have saved his life."
The fishermen exchanged relieved glances, their anxiety easing in the presence of their chieftain's calm resolve.
"Where is he now?" Ghira asked, turning his attention back to the matter at hand.
"He's with the healer in the clinic," the fisherman with fox ears replied. "She's taking care of him, but we thought it best to inform you immediately."
Ghira nodded, appreciating their diligence. "Good. I will visit the clinic shortly. You have my gratitude for bringing this boy to us. Menagerie is a place of refuge and compassion, and we will extend that to him as well."
The fishermen bowed, feeling a sense of accomplishment and relief. They had fulfilled their duty, and now it was in the hands of their compassionate leader.
The fishermen led Ghira to a guest room where the boy lay on a soft bed, still unconscious but breathing more steadily. The room was modest but comfortable, with light streaming in from a nearby window and the gentle sound of birds chirping outside. Ghira, intrigued and concerned, nodded to one of the healers who began attending to the boy.
The healer, a woman with gentle hands and a calm demeanor, checked Shirou's vitals, applying a cool cloth to his forehead. "He's stable now, but it will take time for him to recover fully," she assured Ghira. As she adjusted Shirou's blanket, something caught her eye. Clutched tightly in Shirou's hand was a strip of red fabric, weathered and frayed at the edges.
Curious, the healer carefully pried the fabric from Shirou's grasp and examined it briefly before handing it to Ghira. "He was holding onto this. It might be important," she suggested.
Ghira took the strip of fabric, turning it over in his hands. It was a simple piece of cloth, but its presence hinted at a deeper story. "Thank you," Ghira said, his mind already turning over the possibilities of what the fabric could signify.
Hours passed, and as the afternoon sun cast long shadows through the windows, the boy began to stir. His eyelids fluttered, and he woke with a start, his eyes wide with disorientation. The unfamiliar surroundings and the remnants of fear from his ordeal overwhelmed him. Panic set in as memories of a storm and being swept away by the sea flooded back.
Shirou's breaths came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as he tried to make sense of where he was. He looked around the room frantically, his gaze darting from one corner to another until it landed on the healer, who watched him with a reassuring smile.
"You're safe here," she said softly, her voice like a balm to his frayed nerves. "You've been through a lot, but you're in Menagerie now. You're safe."
Tears welled up in Shirou's eyes, and he began to sob, the weight of his trauma crashing down on him. The healer moved closer, offering a comforting presence but allowing him the space to process his emotions.
"Take your time," she said gently. "You're not alone."
The door to the room creaked open, and a guard peeked inside, noting Shirou's distressed state. He quickly informed Ghira and Kali Belladonna, Ghira's wife, of the boy's awakening and apparent distress.
As the guard approached the room, he could hear Shirou's muffled sobs through the door. His concern deepened, and he knocked softly before stepping in to check on the boy. The healer looked up and nodded, confirming that Shirou was awake but understandably distressed. The guard immediately excused himself and made his way to find Ghira and Kali Belladonna.
Ghira and Kali were in their private quarters, discussing plans for an upcoming community event, when the guard arrived, his expression urgent yet composed.
"Chieftain Ghira, Lady Kali," he began, bowing respectfully. "The boy has awakened, but he appears to be in a state of great distress."
Kali, always attuned to the emotional states of others, placed a hand on Ghira's arm. "We should go to him," she said gently. "He must be so frightened and confused."
Ghira nodded in agreement, his expression reflecting his concern. "Thank you for informing us," he said to the guard. "We will see to him immediately."
As Ghira and Kali made their way through the hallways of their home, they discussed how best to approach the situation. Kali, with her nurturing instincts, suggested they give Shirou space but also offer him comfort and reassurance.
When they reached the guest room, Ghira paused outside the door, listening to the quiet sobs from within. He took a deep breath and gently pushed the door open, allowing Kali to enter first.
Ghira and Kali entered the room quietly, their presence calming and non-threatening. They waited patiently as the boy, sensing he was not alone, wiped away his tears and looked up at them with wide, red-rimmed eyes. The room, bathed in the warm light of the setting sun, felt safe and inviting.
"Hello," Ghira began, his deep voice soothing and filled with gentle authority. "My name is Ghira Belladonna, and this is my wife, Kali. You're safe here in Menagerie."
Shirou blinked, his mind racing to process the kind faces before him. He could feel the sincerity in their words and slowly began to relax. He tried to sit up, but his limbs felt heavy and weak.
"Easy there," Kali said softly, stepping closer and helping him to sit up. Her touch was gentle, and her eyes shone with maternal warmth. "You've been through quite an ordeal. There's no need to rush."
The boy, still disoriented but comforted by their gentle demeanor, managed to compose himself. "My name is Shirou," he replied softly, his voice trembling but steadying with each word.
"Welcome to our home, Shirou," Kali said with a warm smile. "We're here to help you."
Shirou took a deep breath, feeling a mix of emotions. He looked at the strip of red fabric in Ghira's hand and reached out to touch it, his fingers trembling. "It's... it's from my sister's scarf," he whispered, tears welling up again.
Kali placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We will keep it safe for you, Shirou," she said softly. "And we will help you find your way."
Ghira nodded, his expression resolute. "You are among friends here. Menagerie is a place of refuge and compassion. You have our word that we will do everything we can to assist you."
Shirou looked at them, his heart filled with a mix of gratitude and relief. For the first time since the storm, he felt a glimmer of hope.
Ghira leaned forward slightly, his gaze gentle but inquisitive. "Can you tell us what happened to you, Shirou?" he asked softly, allowing the boy to take his time.