Disclaimer, I don't own any of the copyright intellectual properties shown in this fic. I'm merely writing this for fun.
1.3
Hot steamy water landed on Whitley Schnee as he stood in his room's bathroom. The shower was hotter than Whitley was used to but the nightmare from fighting Leviathan was still fresh in his mind. Although no lasting mental effects came from said nightmare, Whitley's entire body was tense throughout the shower.
Whitley shivered despite the hot water. It was clear that this would be a habit he wasn't getting rid of anytime soon. With his body still unnerved it was only natural that his mind linger on the other two Endbringers he had fought.
Leviathan was the third and most recent Endbringer he had faced, and much like the first two he had done no damage to the beast. The first Endbringer Whitley dreamed of was a giant mountain of spikes the people of Earth called Behemoth. He recalled how the dream began with him in a desert landscape with other capes similar to that of the muster. The only noteworthy thing about that nightmare was that he wasn't wearing the advanced power armor he had in Leviathan's fight. Instead, he piloted some kind of mecha that was smaller than an Atlesian paladin, about 11 or so feet, with a mounted 'rail gun' on its shoulders.
Honestly calling that dream a fight would be short of a comedy. What had happened was that Whitley fired his impressive rail gun at the beast with such force that a lone spike fell off. Behemoth didn't even bother looking in his direction before firing a string of energy at Whitley, instantly killing him. The dream with Behemoth barely lasted three minutes. He didn't even wake up screaming or in a cold sweat.
The second Endbringer he faced was the winged creature they called the Simurgh. She, or rather It was a being of both cosmic beauty and horror to the young Schnee. When Whitley saw it he felt a strong force that made him want to gaze at her but at the same time look away. Much like the Behemoth dream he also wasn't wearing the advanced power armor, instead he was in a compact aircraft similar to that of a bullhead but sleeker and more refined. Also much like the first dream he had with an Endbringer, Whitley barely got to fight the Simurgh since he drove straight into a floating boulder at supersonic speed. This time he woke up pissed off.
To die in such a ridiculous fashion, especially one that made him look like an idiot, had damaged his already fragile ego. Whitley swore that the boulder wasn't there when he sped up, but ultimately it didn't matter.
Then finally the less he pondered on the Leviathan dream the better.
Turning off the shower head Whitley grabbed a towel drying most of his body off before leaving the shower. He did his usual hygienic routine of using deodorant and brushing his teeth before he wore the staff uniform consisting of sweatpants, an undershirt and a sweater.
This outfit was honestly more comfortable to him than the custom suits he wore daily. The fact that it barely took a minute to put it on and that he could sit, lay, and slouch his form without fear of creasing his clothes was such a boon. He had no idea how he was only recently finding out about the pure comfort of these so-called plebeian clothes was outrageous.
With his body finally cleansed from over a month of dirt and body odor Whitley felt new.
Before he left his bedroom he gave the place a look around. It was clean since every part of the mansion had a daily schedule of upkeep but the cleanliness of the room fooled no one. It was obvious to anyone who saw it that the room was abandoned.
A month, his tinker fugue had only lasted barely a month and now it felt like he was returning after years of absence. Then again in this family wasn't that the norm?
Whitley argued if he should bring a pillow or two back at the workshop but his rationale had convinced him that it would only take a day for him to ruin it with all the dirt in the workshop.
Finally leaving the room Whitley took the route least taken by his father on the way to the pantry. If staff gossip was considered then avoiding the man at all costs would be for the best since the previous weeks had him rage that his son had become a shut-in. He wasn't afraid of what his father might do to him, rather Whitley was afraid that he might finally snap and do something way worse to the richest man on Remnant.
Despite his way to the pantry having little foot traffic he still came across a servant or two. All of them gawking at the ridiculous image of the young Schnee heir wearing clothes that made him look like he barely made a living wage. They apologize almost instantly and Whitley would offer a simple smile and wave.
Upon reaching the pantry Whitley made haste in making whatever meal he could with any available ingredients he could find. Unfortunately for him, the background of his upbringing would make what he assumed a simple task into something much harder.
"Damn it Whitley, you're the only one in Remnant that knows what nuclear fusion is but making a simple meal is what breaks you!" He berated himself.
By then he had already made a mess in the pantry. Although he hasn't broken anything yet, cupboards and pans littered the place from his unsupervised searching. He was so busy searching ingredients for a nonexistent dish that Whitley failed to notice an individual entering the room.
"Master Whitley! What a splendid sight to finally see you again!"
'Fuck.'
Turning in place, the sight of the family's butler Klein Seiben stared at Whitley like one would a proud parent.
'Was he always this short?'
Seeing Klein wasn't exactly a bad thing. If ever he liked seeing the only man who cared for him. He just wished Klein didn't see him in such a state like a crazed man desperate for food.
"Klein, it's also nice to see you again. Sorry for bothering you. I'll be taking my leave. Good day."
Sadly Whitley's attempt to quickly leave the scene was futile as Klein was back in front of him before he could take a step.
"No! No young master! Please stay, it's been a while and I haven't seen you eat a proper meal since you've taken up shop in the store room in the mechanical wing."
"Thank you Klein but I have important matters to attend to back at my workshop- I mean the store room."
"Oh I insist master Whitley, It's a joyous occasion to have you finally out and about after all this time! In fact, I'll even make you my special pot of tea that everyone loves."
"Thank You Klein really but I have a busy schedule ahead of me."
Even if Klein had his signature smile on his face there was no mistaking the glare that was seeping out of his being. Whitley may have arguably been the smartest person in Remnant, but he was still a teenage boy. A teenage boy who knew a scolding was about to happen if he continued his resistance.
"You know what Klein, you're absolutely right. I would love to spend some time with you and have a meal."
"Splendid!" exclaimed the man, the glare dying down.
"Please, take a seat. Your special tea is coming right up!"
"Actually Klein," "Hmm? What is it, young master?"
"I was hoping you'd make me a cup of coffee. If that's not too much to ask."
Klein raised his eyebrows at him. Whitley may have never hated coffee but he also wasn't known to drink a cup now and then.
"Of course, young master. How would you like your cup of coffee?"
"Just a regular cup with cream and sugar but please add a shot of espresso if you would."
"Feeling bold today are we? As you wish, young master."
Without any further prompt Whitley took a seat at the only table at the pantry as Klein began making his choice of drink.
"Master Whitley, no disrespect intended but," Klein began from the counter.
"What on Remnant are you wearing?" the butler asked not so subtly. Although there was no hint of judgment in his words, his tone was firm and demanded an answer.
"Staff nightwear." He replied, not expounding on his answer.
"Why?" Klein continued his inquiry with a tone that didn't leave room for excuses.
Sigh~ "I've been growing at an abnormal rate. All my clothes don't fit me anymore and would take days for replacements to arrive. Also, you'd be surprised at how comfortable they are. They really are growing on me." Quite literally even.
Klein made a clicking sound with his tongue, if the butler found his answer satisfactory then he didn't know. The butler didn't bother continuing the conversation after that, merely continuing with the process of brewing his coffee.
Whitley couldn't tell if the atmosphere was awkward or not. He couldn't tell if Klein's silent movements were an invitation to continue the conversation or if he was still trying to understand the new unusual behavior of the youngest Schnee heir. He hated to admit it but Weiss was much better at communicating with people regardless of status even if it was an act. Had his sister been here then he would've done everything he could to annoy her nonstop.
Still, Whitley could make the argument that his awkward tendencies were because of the raw emotion he had. That conversation with him was not an act but an actual effort from him to know one better. Then again ever since he could remember Whitley did his best to come up with whatever reason he could think that he believed made him better than his siblings. A coping mechanism pure and simple and his trigger event had made it worse.
If he was going to overthink while waiting for his drink then Whitley might as well spend his time properly. Pulling out a sleek black rectangular object from his pockets, he opened an app and started typing. It was best to use this time to make a timetable on what to build once he was back in his workshop.
"And what is that?"
Or maybe not. Klein eyed the rectangular object in his hands as he placed the cup of coffee in front of him. Only then did Whitley get a good comparison of the object in his hands in contrast to his previous scroll, and by the extent the scroll Klein owned. His scroll was one of the first things he cannibalized at the start of his tinker fugue after all.
"Oh this? It's uhhhh (what'd they call this again back on Earth!?). A smartphone! Yup this thing here's a smartphone."
"Smartphone? You mean like those things littered on the streets of Mantle people have to pay for?" The butler twitches his eyebrows in confusion. "I'm not sure if you've seen an actual phone, no offense intended, but I do not think that is a phone master Whitley.."
His face twitched a bit but in a rare instance of clarity, Whitley understood where Klein was coming from. The technological advancements between Earth and Remnant differed greatly. In the field of communications both planets began with the telegram but unlike Remnant Earth didn't have any access to Dust. Which meant that advancement in the field of communications on Earth had to evolve at a snail's pace. Remnant on the other hand was the complete opposite, with Dust in ample amount their advancement was fast.
Too fast in Whitley's opinion.
Despite both planets having payphones both still differed greatly with their names being the only similarity they share. The payphones on Earth were accessed with a rotary dial knob and had a separate earpiece, the ones on Remnant were a massive scroll that took up a part of the wall until maybe two or so decades ago when Atlesian manufacturers were able to scale it down to the modern day hand-held scroll. The major problem in Remnant's case was that despite achieving their goal and having the final product, the people responsible for this achievement did not understand the science behind why they were able to achieve such a goal.
All thanks to Dust.
Regardless of the benefits Dust had in accelerating their technologies, it had the unintentional effect of severely handicapping Remnant's ability to understand their tech as well as be creative with it. It may have taken Earth over a century to go from big phones to smartphones but at least they had a clear understanding of what they created. Scrolls didn't even have batteries for Oum's sake! It just had a minuscule neutral Dust crystal in it with different wires attached to it.
"It's like a scroll, it has similar functions to a scroll. I'm not sure what else to say other than I built it myself."
"You built it? Amazing." claimed the butler. Whitley preened like a cat at the praise.
"From which manufacturer did you acquire the blueprints?" and Whitley just lost his appreciation at the praise.
"Believe it or not but I built this from scratch myself without any prior blueprints or schematics."
"Truly? Then I must say that your invention must be special."
Whitley was beginning to feel annoyed by the condescending tone Klein had started showing. Even if the butler believed him that the smartphone was his invention it was clear that he was unimpressed with the product.
Why build something so outdated when something better already exists?
"It is special Klein. In fact, I would argue that it's the most special of all of Remnant."
"Oh? And what makes you say that?"
"Because this doesn't use or run on Dust."
Silence. Whitley's declaration was met with utter silence from the butler. Klein's mouth opened a few times only for it to close when it seemed like words would form.
Klein whistled, an authentic smile forming on his lips as he looked at Whitley's smartphone. "Well isn't that something. Your meal is almost ready, I expect proper table manners from you."
"Yes sir."
As the food was served the meal turned into a quiet, mundane affair. Although observing proper table manners Whitley couldn't stop himself from gorging the food from his plate. Klein obliged his request for seconds. His coffee on the other hand was slurped loudly most befitting of someone who had worked in the mines they owned. Much like his meal, refills were requested. Whitley was sure it irritated the butler but the man hadn't said a word. Klein merely took such manners as a compliment to his craft.
The rest of the meal went without incident and by the end Whitley had consumed everything Klein had made from the appetizers and main course to the last drop of coffee. The feeling of his full stomach was just as good as when he had first gazed at his complete power armor. Speaking of his power armor, the young heir wiped his mouth with the napkin Klein provided him and got up.
"Thank you so much Klein for the delicious food, as always you never fail to satisfy. I guess I'll see you soon." Before Whitley could even move his feet Klein had placed a hand on his shoulder. Noting how firm and heavy the butler's hand was on his shoulder that gave the message for him to stay.
"Master Whitley, please take a seat." Annoyed Whitley couldn't help but make a sound with his tongue. He had already indulged Klein by staying and eating his cooking. What else could he probably want from him? 'Did the absence of Weiss break him? Well too bad because I'm not a substitute.'
"Klein I already said I'm done so stop it. If you're worried about my nutrition then just continue leaving meals at the door." Scoffed the heir.
"I said, Whitley, take a seat." Klein's tone hadn't changed but the hairs on Whitley's skin were standing. Hearing his name without any titles from the butler's mouth felt so wrong despite the kind nature of the man. Looking back, the butler's smile was gone and his eyes bore down at Whitley with such immense weight. Klein may have been shorter but at this moment he had the same aura as the endbringer. Without another word, Whitley complied and took a seat at the table.
Klein nodded his thanks, collected the dirty tableware into the sink and proceeded to wash them. As Klein went on washing the dishes Whitley's nerves were all over the place as he didn't exactly know what he did wrong. Truthfully the heir had an idea what the reason could be, maybe it was because he was already a shut it? Was it his confrontational attitude? Possibly but Whitley couldn't pinpoint the reason Klein had shown this side. Reflecting, Whitley couldn't remember when was the last time he had earned Klein's anger. Maybe a reprimand now and then but not this. His overthinking was doing such a number on his nerves that it was like he was back in the muster.
When Klein turned off the faucet and placed the last of the dishes onto a drying rack Whitley could only hold his breath. However, before Klein could go to the table, the butler went to the kitchen counter and pulled out a folder from one of the drawers. Folder in hand only then did Klein proceed to the table taking a seat opposite of Whitley. Confused as to what purpose the folder he could only stare and wait for Klein to begin whatever the butler had planned.
The butler took out three different stacks of paper that were clipped together and placed them in a neat line in the middle of the table. Klein pointed at the stack of papers on his left, or to Whitley's right.
"Three and a half weeks ago I received numerous reports from the men's dormitories." Whitley's breath caught in his throat. "The report detailed how someone took all seven of the espresso machines from the dormitory canteens. Now all of the residents staying in the dormitory are forced to boil water, forced to drink an instant coffee mix."
Whitley opened his mouth to say something as an answer but found himself unable to form words. Klein pointed at the stack of papers in the center never breaking eye contact with the heir. Said heir started to feel something in his gut and he did not like the feeling at all.
"This is another set of reports from the cafeteria's kitchen crew three weeks ago, these reports detail how all four of the mini ovens and three of the four microwaves have gone missing. Now I am receiving daily complaints nonstop about how four dozen employees are forced to share a single microwave in the cafeteria. Most end up eating unheated meals before resuming their duties."
"Klein, I...uh." This time Whitley was able to form words when he opened his mouth but still failed to say anything coherent. Klein pointed at the final, larger stack of papers. Eyesight still unbreaking from the unsmiling, serious butler that Whitley had never seen before.
"Two weeks ago limousine number five was scheduled for its routine oil change. That never happened, and now both the driver and mechanic of limousine number five have reported the vehicle as missing and broken. Both men are heavily emphasizing the broken part." Klein clasped his hands together as he finished talking, the feeling in Whitley's gut had gotten worse and the heir didn't know if he wanted to leave the kitchen or hide in a corner.
"Now tell me, Whitley, do you know what these reports all have in common?"
Whitley lost the nerve to look at Klein's face, his own held down. For once in his life the young boy felt shame for his actions.
"Me."
"That is correct." Klein's confirmation only made his feelings worse. The hole in his stomach was just as cruel as he understood the feeling of guilt. "The reports about the espresso machines had detailed accounts of employees seeing you suddenly barge into the cafeteria with bloodshot eyes, grabbing every espresso machine. The reports claim that generous amounts of hot liquid fell on you but little reaction came from you. Instead growling at those who so much as attempted to talk to you." The heir blushes at vaguely remembering the memory. The worst aspect of the Tinker Fugue had him act like an animal especially when he was in the middle of a project.
"Similar accompanying reports came from the kitchen staff when you took the mini ovens and microwaves. This time they claim that you ripped out the oven doors and the flames that covered your arms also had little effect on you. Some of the bolder staff have even suggested that you were probably on something with how erratic your movements were."
Klein then pulled out his scroll, tapped a few times then handed the device to Whitley.
A video recording was playing at the scroll and Whitley instantly recognized the mechanical wing albeit viewed from the top. Understanding that it was footage from one of the security cameras installed, the date and time on the bottom corner showed this was footage from two weeks ago. The video showed the soon-to-be missing limousine in question with the driver and mechanic conversing. A loud sound was heard startling both men and Whitley saw himself enter the frame. The video showed him covered in different sets of wires that he recognized as the exoskeleton that would form the base of his power armor. To the credit of the two men, it looked like they attempted to prevent Whitley from entering the driver's seat of the vehicle only to be dumbstruck when the heir literally picked up the limousine with his bare hands. Both men left with their mouths wide open staring at the boy walk away with the vehicle above his head out of frame.
Whitley gave a troubled sigh as he handed the scroll back to Klein. The butler may not have said his point yet but it had hit Whitley square in the middle.
"I'm sorry, I really am Klein. I'm aware that I'm in the wrong but it's just…I don't know how to put it." Because how do you explain the concept of parahuman abilities from another world? Whitley can spend the entire day explaining his situation to Klein but even if the man believed him it didn't mean he could continue his newfound destructive habits. Schnee or not. "And I believe you, Whitley."
Eyes shot forward in surprise at the butler's words. "You do?" "I do Whitley, and I want to help you." Smiling as a bit of the guilt vanished from Klein's words.
"Thank you Klein! Tell the staff I'm really sorry for the stuff I did when you buy the replacements. How fast can you buy the kitchenware and the limousine?"
"I don't know."
"What? What do you mean you don't know? Don't you have like, I don't know, a support staff you can order to buy it in your stead?"
"I don't know how long it will take, because I'm not buying any replacements Whitley."
Confused, Whitley didn't know if Klein was messing with him or not, and right now that was the last thing Whitley needed lest his tinker-powered brain get a headache. "Why not!? I thought you said you wanted to help me and now you're going back on your word!?" Shouted the heir.
Whitley's aggressive shift in tone did not effect Klein as the butler merely stared at the heir. "I do want to help but buying things you've destroyed won't do anyone any good."
"Can you please get to the point?" Although not shouting anymore, Whitley's tone was still aggressive. "Wasn't that why you're showing me all of this? Besides, it's not like you're the one paying for all of this."
"You're right Whitley, I'm not the one paying for all of it because the staff are the ones paying for it."
"Huh? Don't the staff have a budget allotted for their daily needs?"
"They do but it doesn't extend to outside the beds they sleep in."
"But…but," the confused heir stammered. "That's ridiculous, why the hell would they not have a budget outside the bed they sleep in."
"Tell me Whitley, do you honestly expect Jacques to spend more Lien for the welfare of his employees?"
And with that statement, Whitley's irritation dissipated. Neither needed to hear the answer they both knew. The heir's eyes went down once again in shame. He kept telling himself that he was better than this but as the conversation went on he struggled to convince himself.
This time it was Klein who gave a deep sigh, was this how Whitley would earn the disappointment of the only man he cared about?
"I know that deep inside, you are trying to do better. So let me begin by saying this. Jacques Gele may be your biological father but you, Whitley Schnee, are not like him." Klein's words were punctuated and the butler made sure to look Whitley in the eyes as he said it. Whitley noting how Klein used his father's maiden name. "Now in regards to your newfound abilities I'm not going to pretend and go 'I always knew you had it in you' or any other similar phrase because truthfully I didn't. Sure you may have been a bit smarter at math and science compared to your sisters," Klein couldn't help but smile at how Whitley reacted to that specific sentence. Despite everything he was still a child, a petty one sure but a child nonetheless.
"But even then, that academic advantage was only within the parameters of what's considered a gifted child. Last I checked, making robot suits that make you fly or medicine that can instantly cure you isn't what a gifted child can do." Whitley couldn't hide his blush at the praise and slowly the feeling of guilt in his stomach was starting to lighten.
"What makes you think I can make that kind of medicine?"
"Are you kidding me!? Whitley when I saw the footage of you taking the espresso machines you got drenched in liters of scalding coffee all over your body. I saw footage of you ripping out the food that was cooking inside the mini ovens and yet I don't see any signs of third-degree burns all over your body. Speaking of your body, you're as tall as Winter for Oum's sake!"
Whitley realized that Klein was referring to the tinker gruel he'd been consuming the whole month. Pretty much confirms his theories regarding the substance. Still, he was surprised Klein took notice of it. Was Klein trying to tell him to sell the substance? The heir hoped not, even if it was effective he doubted that Klein would want to sell it once he tasted the substance.
"Height-altering surgeries exist but they only add three inches at best. This leads me to my next point, before I was a butler to the Schnee manor I was and still am a licensed medical doctor. As such I can immediately identify the telltale signs of behavioral urges fueled by a mental disorder."
Impressed, Whitley was outright impressed with Klein as the butler continued talking. He knew the man had talents but he never expected this level of observations and assumptions. His family hit the jackpot when they employed this man.
"So what? Are you saying I'm now crazy by your medical standards?"
"No, in fact, mental disorders don't equate to a person being crazy. I prefer you update your views on those diagnosed with them." "Yes sir."
"Good. Now tell me Whitley, when you did all these things were you fully conscious of what you were doing? Or were you doing it to metaphorically scratch an itch that wouldn't go away?"
"The latter, the metaphorical itch was strong and by doing the things I did I was able to scratch it away." Explained Whitley with wide eyes. Without a single word from him explaining what a parahuman was or its subcategories, this man had technically figured out what a tinker fugue was.
"Then I know you are telling the truth that you didn't mean for it to happen. Can I assume that you're feeling that itch right now? That me talking to you is making it itchier by the minute?"
"Talking to you is never a bother to me Klein," Whitley states in a matter-of-fact way. "But yes the itch is present. Tolerable right now but still present."
"Then I will make this quick so you can go, a doctor is supposed to alleviate such symptoms after all." Klein closed his eyes for a good few moments. The butler made sure that the next words that came from his mouth would be best for the heir to hear. "I'm not going to bother asking you how you came to be with such abilities. It's ultimately up to you if you want to tell me its origins but I won't consider it too important. But what I do consider important is the newfound purpose these abilities have given you. And as I said before, you are not your father. Do you know why Weiss was so adamant about becoming a huntress?"
"I don't know." Whitley said truthfully without scorn at the mention of his sister. Klein had been wise and understanding throughout the whole conversation, and he wouldn't dishonor himself any further.
"She wanted to become a huntress to show that the Schnees were good, honest, and honorable people. That Jacques was just an outlier to the good name that belonged to your grandfather. Weiss believes that being on the front lines and saving people from Grimm was an excellent start to redeeming the good name of the Schnees. Which is why I know Weiss is not like her father."
Whitley had always assumed that Weiss' infatuation with being a huntress was that she was nothing more than a simple minded barbarian. He hated to admit it but he saw the merits of his sister's plan now that he knew the whole picture.
"So I know that much like your sister, this new purpose you have is for the greater good of the people."
"However," Klein raised his index finger. "I will be committing a malpractice if I tell you that you are just like Weiss because your new abilities have given you something more. I saw the surveillance footage of you crashing into your mother's garden. People have died from bullhead crashes at smaller distances and yet you are standing in front of me, healthier as can be. Not to mention the obvious, power armor is still a thing of fiction that our kingdom's scientists claim will take decades to create but ultimately to be an unrealistic thing."
"Yet here you are!" Shouted Klein as he stood from his chair, arms in the air, eyes wide with unbelieving excitement. "You built an actual, honest-to-Oum, piece of power armor that not only enhances your strength but can actually make you fly for crying out loud!"
Klein's whole demeanor had looked like an excited child's first trip to the carnival. The butler took a few heavy breaths to calm down, after which Klein left the table and towards the door that led to the servant's hallway. The quickest path to the mechanical wing, to his workshop.
"I only ask that you in your haste to achieve whatever this new purpose you have, you don't step on the livelihoods of people regardless of wealth or status. That you will use these new abilities you have for the greater good. Do I have your word? Whitley Schnee?" Klein finished by offering his hand.
Whitley stood with determination, walked towards Klein and shook the man's hand with gusto as he looked at the butler eye to eye.
Klein nodded and gave a respectful bow befitting a man. Whitley left the kitchen with no other words needed to be spoken, the heir had unfinished business and he was going to make sure that Whitley Schnee would be the person he knew he could be.
AN: Thank you to everyone that followed, favorited, reviewed or even just read this fic. It means a lot to me for you to give me your time to read it. I was honestly surprised by this chapter. This chapter was suppose to be a practice on writing dialogue. When I first wrote the rough outline it was only going to be about a conversation between Whitley and Klein so my initial prediction for this would be a short chapter only, roughly 2k or 2.5k words. But instead here we are with 5.4k words which is a personal best for me at the moment. I was afraid about writing dialogue but ended up enjoying it more than I expected.
In regards to the characters, I wanted to highlight that despite the grand things Whitley can make he's still a kid especially one from an abusive and neglectful household. That he needs guidance in the coming days. Klein on the other hand was already a good character from the show but much like most characters outside RWBY/JNR he isn't used to his full potential. So technically this is my interpretation of the character.
Anyway that's enough from me, I hope you enjoyed this one as much as I have and I hope to see soon!