Philip leaned his head against his fist, gazing with half-lidded eyes at the zooming green hair at the front of the classroom. It was a small wonder that his round glasses remained attached to his face. The whiteboards were filled with scribbles of some ancient history. A quiet sigh escaped Philip's mouth. If the history of Faunus discrimination were as straightforward as the professor claimed, they wouldn't be in this mess.

For the past few days, Jonathan had been checking up on him incessantly. Before breakfast, after breakfast, before lunch, after lunch and so on. At this point, he might even kick the bathroom door down if Philip used it for too long. It still eluded Philip about why he helped Jonathan back then. He hated bullies, sure. But now he had an annoying pest. He should've never gotten himself involved.

Oobleck gulped down his thermos. "Now! Have any among you been subjugated or discriminated because of your Faunus heritage?"

A few raised their hands, including that rabbit Faunus in the cafeteria. Apparently, she was actually a second-year despite how skittish she was. Maybe she'd failed a class or something. Philip rolled his eyes when Jonathan glanced at him. At his peripheral view, Ruby and her team looked at the empty seat between them.

"Dreadful, simply dreadful!" The professor continued. "Remember, students, it is precisely this kind of ignorance that breeds violence! I mean, I mean, I mean, just look at what happened to the White Fang!"

"And the Silver Movement," Philip mumbled absentmindedly.

That caused another stare from Jonathan. Why was he being such a worrywart?

But it wasn't all bad. One good thing about Oobleck's lessons was that they always ended early. Just when Philip wondered if dinner would be chicken again, Oobleck slammed his thermos down on the table.

"Dismissed!" He announced. "Except for Mr. Viewforth and Mr. Arc. Please come to the front."

Philip groaned and banged his head against the table. Just his luck. He was about to miss the only free time before training. He cast a side eye on the frowning Jonathan.

"It's fine. I'll catch you guys in the amphitheatre."

Grayson and Ronald had already left. After a moment of silence, Jonathan nodded and left him be as well. With a heavy heart, Philip plodded towards the professor with Jaune.

"What now?" Philip asked.

Oobleck said, "You two have been struggling in my class since day one! Now, I don't know if it's a lack of interest or just your stubborn nature, but whatever it is... It stops now!"

Jaune lowered his head. "I'm sorry, professor."

"What he said," Philip deadpanned. "Shouldn't Cardin get the same treatment, too?"

"Yes. But he's still suspended! So it's only you two now."

Philip chuckled. That idiot got one hell of a scold even during his recovery. The face he made on the stage was golden. It was like he was having the biggest constipation of his life in front of the whole school and cameras. Served him right. Still, if that couldn't get him expelled, Vale must be like Mistral after all.

Oobleck continued, "…Pages fifty-one to ninety-one! I want an essay on my desk by the next class! Now! Run along."

A gust of wind blew past Philip and Jaune. His afterimage gradually faded away. Philip yawned before walking past the frozen Jaune. There was still some time left for a quick nap. He just needed to hurry. He dashed out of the classroom, almost bumping into a ginger.

"Oh, hello." Pyrrha smiled. "Is Jaune still inside?"

He sighed. "Yup, he's shell-shocked from more work."

"I see. Good thing I might be able to help." She shifted her weight as her thin eyebrows were knitted together. "Is Ronald okay?"

Philip tilted his head. Someone actually care about him?

He replied, "Sure? He's not suicidal or anything."

"N-No! That's not what I'm worried about! It's just…he's different."

He crossed his arms. It was strange. The way she talked and acted made it seem like she genuinely cared about him. But Ronald hardly mentioned her. If anything, it was more like she bullied him in the past or something. Not his problem, though.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you just…"

His nose furrowed at the smell of perfume. His ear twitched from the approaching high heels. He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. But he might as well have some fun. He turned around and beamed.

"Witchy! How you doing?"

Pyrrha stared at him with widened eyes. Her posture slowly stiffened up. Meanwhile, Glynda maintained her all-professional look, stopping at a respectful distance. She pushed her glasses up. The corners of her eyes twitched ever so slightly. His grin widened. He was annoying her.

She said, "Barring your disrespect, I expected you after class."

"Shame. Oobleck wanted me, too. Anyway, he told me—"

"I will not dismiss your assignment again. Follow me to your supplementary class."

"Still?! Can we do this tomorrow?"

Glynda glared at him. "Now, Mr. Viewforth."

He threw his arms up. "Fine! Fine. I'm coming."

"Make sure you do." She nodded at Pyrrha. "Miss Nikos."

He kept his middle finger raised as she walked down the corridor. Thanks to her, his free time was truly over.

Pyrrha stifled a laugh. "…You know you should study, right?"

"Now you sound like Jonathan." Philip noticed Jaune finally left the classroom. "Later."

Philip stood in front of the table, holding his arms behind his back. His hands started gripping harder. He had no idea how Ozpin could cope with this constant, fucking ticking. They seemed to get louder at each rotation. It wouldn't be surprising if he were actually deaf. Ozpin sat at the table and kept staring at him like he was a criminal. His mug smelled of bitter coffee. His walking cane leaned against his table. Glynda stood next to him, holding her tablet. The sun outside was setting already. Philip sighed. Grayson was going to question him again.

"Are you sure you've told us everything?" Ozpin asked.

Philip rolled his eyes. "Yes, sire. The White Fang has individual cells in each continent. Adam Taurus is the leader of the Vale branch. A rambling asshole, really. There are also safe houses and propaganda centres in every major city. AND! They like using special frequencies for dead drops in the wilderness."

Glynda asked, "Then why are they stealing so much Dust?"

"You tell me! You two are the secret, all-knowing masterminds. Go figure it out yourself."

"As a matter of fact, I intend to," Ozpin replied. "There has been another robbery in the market district. You know what to do."

"You serious? Sorry, but I'm tired. Ask someone else."

Glynda snarled. "You are not in the position to—"

"Witchy, I've been slaving for you two almost. Every. Night. All these nonsense investigations and hits. You're telling me I'm the only guy you have?"

Silence. Philip scoffed and walked away. If they could put up so much bullshit and not kill him on the spot, he had something they wanted. He'd try to find that out later. But for now, he could definitely use a break or two. It took him a few steps away when Ozpin mentioned something.

"Jeremy Mattews. Ring any bells?"

Philip stopped dead in his tracks. He brushed his hand over his hair and forced himself to breathe slowly. Ozpin was just trying to get under his skin. But part of him was glad that his father was safe, relatively.

Philip looked over his shoulder. "Ozpin, if you lay a finger on him, I'll kill you with your fucking stick."

"I'm sure you will. But my point still stands. As long as you do as you're told, I can guarantee your safety and those around you."

"…Fine! I'll go to that shitty market."

"You have my thanks." Ozpin smiled. "Glynda will send the details to your scroll."

Philip punched the elevator button, denting the panel. Once the elevator doors closed, he looked up and flipped off the CCTV for good measure. What a damn mess he was in.

Author's Notes:

Despite what the show tried, Ozpin was never shown to be morally grey. There was nothing that suggested he did anything questionable. Hopefully, my attempt will make it more obvious.

See you next week.