Chapter 43: Family
Reviews:
NinjaFang1331: Oh just you wait! Whitely's going to be getting a whole lotta character development this Arc alongside everyone else!
Delta7344: Thank you! And like I said before we got this and the next chapter before we get back into the main plot and that's when things will really get interesting!
RedHunter12: Maybe, and no, the Paladin incident hasn't happened yet, but all I can say about Jaune and RWBYNPR's reunion is that it's gonna be good~!
Guest: Yes, this Whitely will be different than his Canon version.
QA: 1. That might happen, you'll just have to keep reading and see! 2. I wouldn't exactly call it woke, and while I'm all for Character's changing, for example, I usually am one of those fans who believe Cardin changed after Jaune saved him, I won't be changing Jacques for this Fic, but maybe in another Fic, Because I kinda do like the idea of him being a crappy father who will eventually try heavily to make up for the mistakes he made with his children. 3. Jaune and Vernal might never become officially licensed Huntsmen during any of the events of the story, but as for why and who Jaune was called out on his transcripts will be explored later down the line as the story continues.
blaiseingfire: You'll just have to wait and see what happens to Whitely, but don't worry all good things! (And unlike Warped Metal, I'm not lying to you to lure you into a false sense of safety~!)
odstrules21: Here's more for you! Glad you're sticking around to see just where this all goes!
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"Can you believe it?! That Valerian actually took down a third-year!"
"He's been kicking everyone's ass! No one can stop him!"
"I never would've thought someone like him could take down so many people! What's next, is he gonna take out an entire team by himself?!"
"Now I have to fight him! I need to see if he's really on Wukong's level!"
"No way, girl! He and Wukong might as well be the same person! I wouldn't wanna fight either of them!"
The excited murmurs and half-shouted exclamations echoed through the halls of Shade Academy, the student body abuzz with the latest spectacle—Jaune Valerian's meteoric rise through the ranks. The sheer disbelief and admiration in their voices painted a clear picture: Jaune had become the academy's hottest topic.
Walking through the crowd, Oscar and Deery caught snippets of the ongoing chatter. Some students speculated about his next opponent, while others debated whether anyone could actually stop him.
Deery chuckled, her lips curling into a knowing smirk as she glanced at Oscar. "Heh, looks like Jaune's really the talk of the town these days,"
Oscar smirked as well, shaking his head slightly. "Yeah, seems like it," he replied. "He's already won, what, six duels in a row? And that third year was just the latest, now, even more people are gonna come after him,"
Deery gave a lighthearted shrug. "What can you do, right?" she said. "Jaune's been dead-set on getting stronger ever since we got here, still..." She trailed off, a thoughtful expression settling on her face.
Oscar noticed and raised a brow. "Hm? What is it?" he asked, curiosity piqued.
Deery crossed her arms, her brow furrowed slightly as she mulled over her thoughts. "Jaune wanting to get stronger... it's just weird to me, I always thought he was already one of the strongest people out there," She admitted, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and disbelief.
She turned to Oscar, her eyes searching his for some kind of confirmation. "I mean, I've seen what he can do firsthand, I saw the aftermath of what he did to that entire White Fang branch... He didn't just take them down—he wiped them out, and it wasn't just some low-level grunts either, he defeated two of their best fighters like it was nothing, after seeing all that, I just figured... who else could possibly stand a chance against him?"
Oscar exhaled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I get what you mean, It's kinda the same for me," He looked down for a moment, his expression unreadable before a small, wry smile tugged at his lips. "Jaune slaughtered an entire criminal organization for me... To me, he's the strongest person I know, he's the kind of person I want to become,"
Deery blinked before giggling, her teasing grin making Oscar immediately regret his words. "Aww! Oscar, do you see Jaune as your hero?" she asked, tilting her head in mock innocence.
A light blush dusted Oscar's cheeks as he scoffed, glancing away. "No... I mean, sorta?" he admitted, his voice caught between embarrassment and honesty.
Deery gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. "That's so cute!" she teased, nudging him playfully. "I mean, hey, I get it. I look at Jaune like a hero too, the guy literally saved my life! So yeah, he's my hero just like he's yours,"
Oscar blinked, her words catching him off guard. For all her teasing, there was genuine sincerity in her tone. A soft smile spread across his face. "Thanks, Deery," he said quietly.
Deery gave him a small grin and a shrug. "No problem,"
Unbeknownst to the two younger teens, Jaune and Vernal trailed behind them, their pace steady as they listened in on the conversation. Vernal, ever the opportunist when it came to teasing, couldn't resist a smirk as she nudged Jaune with her elbow.
"You hear that, Mr. Hero?" she asked, flashing him a wide, toothy grin that made her canines stand out.
Jaune groaned, rubbing the back of his neck, his face betraying a hint of embarrassment. "Ugh... this is so embarrassing," he muttered under his breath.
Vernal snickered, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "Aw, Mr. Asskicker is blushing?" she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Wait till everyone hears you're actually just a big ol' softie!"
Jaune shot her a flat look but couldn't keep his own smirk from forming. "Oh please, if anyone here's the real softie, it's you,"
Vernal raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And since when have I been soft, huh?"
Jaune pointed at the two teens walking ahead of them. "Since we apparently adopted those two," His smirk widened as he leaned in slightly. "I've heard you making sure Oscar gets enough sleep and reminding Deery to eat properly, if anything, you sound more like their mom than anything else!"
Vernal stopped in her tracks, her mouth hanging open in sheer disbelief. "I do NOT sound like their mother!" she cried, aghast.
Jaune chuckled, shaking his head as he pressed on with the teasing. "You totally do!" he insisted, grinning. "What's next? Gonna start nagging them about doing their homework? Telling them they have to be in bed by ten sharp?"
Vernal shot him a deadpan look, arms crossed as she let out an exaggerated scoff. "Oh, please, like that's ever gonna happen," she said. "If I ever start acting like some doting mom, just put me out of my misery," she joked.
Jaune smirked. "Noted, but I dunno, Vernal... You're already halfway there, maybe I should start calling you Momma Vernal and see how it sticks?"
Vernal groaned, lightly smacking him on the arm. "Keep it up, and you're the one who's gonna need a nap—a permanent one,"
Jaune only laughed, unfazed, as the two fell back into step, following Oscar and Deery down the hall. Despite the teasing, there was a quiet comfort between them—a sense of camaraderie neither of them had ever expected to find.
As the Day progressed, the two found themselves at Shade Academy's open combat arena, and the air buzzed with energy as Oscar and Deery squared off against each other in a friendly spar.
Oscar stood poised, his stance steady, one foot slightly forward as he observed Deery with sharp, calculating eyes. His sword was held tightly, its weight familiar in his hands. Deery, on the other hand, was steady and firm, her expression playful but focused. She twirled her staff between her fingers with ease, flashing Oscar a confident grin.
"You ready for this, farm boy?" she teased, tilting her head.
Oscar smirked, rolling his shoulders. "Should be asking you the same thing," he replied. "No holding back, right?"
Deery grinned wider. "Wouldn't have it any other way!"
With that, she lunged forward, and the friendly duel began.
Oscar gripped his sword tightly as he swung at Deery, the blade cutting through the air with precision. However, Deery was quick to react, bringing up her staff just in time to block the attack. The impact sent vibrations up her arms, but she planted her feet firmly and used the momentum to shove Oscar backward.
As he stumbled, Deery seized the opportunity. She lunged forward with speed, her staff swinging in a wide arc toward him. But Oscar, ever the quick thinker, recovered in an instant. His sword came up to meet her strike, deflecting the staff to the side before he twisted his wrist and countered with a sharp, controlled slash.
A shimmer of light flickered across Deery's aura as his blade grazed her left side. She grunted at the impact, stumbling a step to the side, but her expression quickly hardened into one of determination. She wasn't about to let Oscar have the upper hand.
Gritting her teeth, Deery surged forward, gripping her staff tightly. Once she was within striking distance, she pulled her weapon back and thrust it forward like a spear, aiming straight for Oscar's chest.
Oscar barely managed to dodge, shifting his head to the side just in time. But Deery was relentless—before he could recover, she pulled her staff back, twisted her body slightly, and used the opposite end of the weapon to sweep his legs out from under him.
With a sharp gasp, Oscar felt the ground vanish beneath him as he was sent sprawling backward. He hit the floor hard, a grunt of pain escaping his lips. His vision spun for a brief moment before he refocused—just in time to see Deery raising her staff again, the bottom end poised to strike him while he was down.
Thinking fast, Oscar rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack as the staff slammed into the spot where he had just been lying. Dust kicked up from the impact, and Oscar quickly scrambled back onto his feet, gripping his sword tighter as he prepared for the next exchange.
Deery smirked. "Not bad, farm boy, but I'm just getting started!"
Oscar smirked, his grip on his sword tightening. "So am I," he said, his voice brimming with confidence.
Then, in an instant, his aura flared to life, enveloping him in a golden glow. The energy pulsed for a brief moment, surging brighter before settling into a steady radiance. Deery barely had time to process what was happening before she noticed something else—Oscar's eyes. They shimmered with an intensity she hadn't seen before, almost glowing, as if a fire had been lit within them.
"What the-?" she murmured, brows furrowing in confusion. But the answer came to her in the most abrupt way possible.
Oscar moved.
One moment, he was standing in front of her; the next, he had closed the distance in a blink. A blur of motion, swift and precise. Deery's eyes widened in alarm.
"Whoa! W-Wait!" she cried, barely managing to react in time.
Oscar's sword came down in a powerful arc, forcing her to bring up her staff to block the strike. The impact sent a violent shock through her arms, rattling her to her core. 'What the hell!?' she thought.
His strength had jumped dramatically—this wasn't the same Oscar she had been evenly sparring with just seconds ago.
But there was no time to process the shock. Oscar didn't let up. He pressed forward, delivering a relentless flurry of slashes and strikes, each one faster and heavier than the last. Deery had no choice but to go fully on the defensive, her staff a blur as she parried and blocked, struggling to keep up with the sheer intensity of his assault.
She gritted her teeth, her mind racing as she analyzed his movements. 'His speed, his power, it's all increased!' Deery told herself.
Every attack carried a weight behind it that hadn't been there before, and Deery was starting to feel it. Her muscles strained with each deflection, her feet sliding back slightly with every clash.
Then her gaze flickered to his glowing eyes. That's when it clicked.
'This must be his Semblance!' she realized, her breath hitching. 'This is what he used to beat that guy on the train!? No wonder it was over so fast! This is insane!'
Oscar kept up the assault, his agility and power continuing to rise as if there was no limit to his acceleration. Each movement flowed seamlessly into the next, his strikes sharper, his steps lighter, his presence almost overwhelming.
Deery continued to dodge and deflect, her muscles burning as she struggled to keep up. Every strike from Oscar felt heavier, faster, and harder to anticipate. It was like trying to hold back a raging storm with nothing but a wooden shield. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she grit her teeth, doing everything she could to hold her ground.
But it wasn't enough.
With a powerful, decisive slash, Oscar knocked her staff clean from her grip. The weapon clattered against the arena floor, bouncing once before rolling out of reach. Deery's eyes widened in shock, her hands instinctively twitching toward her lost weapon.
She didn't get the chance.
Before she could move, the cold steel of Oscar's sword was already hovering inches from her face. His stance was steady, his breathing controlled. His once-glowing eyes dimmed, returning to their usual warm green as his Semblance faded.
A smirk tugged at his lips. "Looks like I win this round, Antlers," he teased, tilting his head slightly.
Deery blinked before raising an amused brow. "Antlers?" she echoed, her mouth curving into a grin.
Oscar lowered his sword, looking mildly confused. "What? You call me Farmboy," he pointed out.
"Yeah, but Antlers is the best you could come up with?" Deery asked, crossing her arms as if unimpressed.
Oscar rolled his eyes, letting out a dramatic groan. "Hey, give me a break! I was kinda busy winning," he defended. "It was the best I could come up with on the fly,"
Deery giggled, tapping a finger against her chin. "Not very creative, are you, hay-for-brains?" she teased.
Oscar's jaw dropped slightly as he pointed at her in exaggerated offense. "Hey! Come on! You can't just give me another nickname!"
Deery giggled as she picked up her staff, shifting it back into its compact baton form before securing it behind her hip. She shot Oscar a playful grin. "Well, until you come up with a better nickname than "Antlers" I can call you whatever I want," she teased.
Oscar let out a long, exaggerated groan as he sheathed his sword behind his back. "Great, now I gotta spend my free time thinking of something cooler..." he muttered.
Deery smirked. "Yeah, good luck with that, Hay-for-brains,"
Oscar sighed in defeat as the two started making their way back to their dorm. The halls of Shade Academy were dimly lit, the sun beginning to set outside, casting long shadows along the walls. As they walked, Deery turned to Oscar, curiosity evident in her gaze.
"Gotta say, your Semblance is pretty strong," she admitted. "What does it even do, exactly?"
Oscar chuckled, glancing at her. "Well, from what I understand, I guess it enhances me or any aspect of me that I want," he explained. "I can boost my strength, stamina, speed, agility... hell, even my eyesight, it's kinda like Jaune's, except I can't boost my Aura,"
Deery raised a brow. "Wait, really?"
Oscar nodded. "Yeah, which kinda sucks because that means I can't exactly tank hits like he can, if my Aura's low, I'm still just as vulnerable as anyone else,"
Deery whistled. "Still, that's pretty damn powerful! Just imagine how crazy strong you'll be when you really master it,"
Oscar smirked at her enthusiasm. "That's the plan,"
Deery grinned, her excitement bubbling over. "Man, I can't wait till I unlock my Semblance!" she said, practically bouncing on her feet.
Oscar shot her a knowing look. "If you do," he said.
Deery blinked. "Huh? What do you mean?"
Oscar shrugged. "Not every Huntsman awakens their Semblance," he explained. "I got lucky, and so did Jaune, but Vernal still hasn't unlocked hers, from what I remember, both Jaune and Maria only awakened theirs in stressful situations or near-death experiences, same thing happened to me, too,"
Deery frowned slightly, mulling that over. "Huh... so I might never get one?"
Oscar nodded. "Yeah, It's rare, but it happens,"
Deery huffed, crossing her arms. "Man, that sucks, still, having one would be pretty damn useful... I just hope I don't get stuck with something boring,"
Oscar nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I get that, I think every Huntsman wants their Semblance to be something cool—something powerful or unique, but in the end, we don't really get to choose, our Semblances are supposed to be a reflection of who we are,"
Deery hummed at that, her expression turning contemplative. "Yeah, I guess... but that kinda makes me wonder..." She trailed off, her brows furrowing slightly.
Oscar glanced at her, noticing the shift in her tone. "Wonder what?" he asked.
Deery let out a slow sigh, her fingers absentmindedly tapping against the baton at her hip. "Who am I, Oscar?" she asked, her voice quieter now.
Oscar raised a brow. "What do you mean?"
Deery glanced at him, then away, staring at the floor as they walked. "I mean... who am I, really?" she repeated. "I was never really a freedom fighter for the White Fang, I was more of a terrorist then anything with them, I tried joining the Happy Huntresses, but I didn't last long, and now I'm here, training to be a Huntress, but... I don't even know if I have what it takes, if I don't know where I belong, then what does that say about me?" She finished rubbing her arm.
Oscar was quiet for a moment, taking in her words. He knew that feeling all too well—feeling lost, feeling like you didn't quite fit anywhere.
Oscar offered her a small, reassuring smile. "I think... I think you don't have to worry about that just yet, Deery," he said, his tone gentle but certain. "I mean, we don't have to have all the answers right away, you know? We're still too young to be worrying about who we're "meant" to be, right now, all we really need to do is keep going—keep living, keep fighting, and eventually, we'll figure it out, who we are, what we stand for... it'll come to us in time,"
Deery blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. She studied him for a moment, then let out a small chuckle. "Huh... I didn't know you could sound so mature, Oscar,"
Oscar rubbed the back of his head, looking away with a sheepish expression. "Yeah, well... I'm just saying what I think, alright?" His voice held a hint of embarrassment, as if unsure if his words actually made sense.
Deery giggled again, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Hey, don't be embarrassed," She told him. "I actually thought it was kinda cute, you trying to act all wise and grown-up,"
Oscar froze, his eyes widening as a fierce blush spread across his face. "W-Wha-!?" he stammered.
But Deery just grinned and turned on her heel, humming to herself as she strolled ahead, clearly enjoying his reaction.
Oscar exhaled sharply, pressing his fingers against his burning face before groaning. "Ugh, this girl's gonna be the death of me, I swear," he muttered to himself before trudging after her.
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Late into the night, Whitley Schnee sat at his desk, the dim glow of his lamp casting long shadows across the stacks of documents still waiting for his attention. He had just finished one round of paperwork, yet the workload remained endless. The responsibilities that had been thrust upon him were relentless, especially now, when the Schnee Dust Company was facing one of its most significant setbacks in years.
The SDC's operations in Vacuo were coming to an abrupt and humiliating end. After years of relentless mining, extracting nearly every ounce of usable Dust from Vacuo's mines, the kingdom's council had finally had enough. They had voted to terminate all remaining SDC contracts and ordered the immediate removal of all Schnee mining equipment from their land. With Vacuo's decision to expel the company, the ripple effect was inevitable—both Vale and Mistral followed suit, limiting the SDC's influence within their borders. Now, only two active mining sites remained in Vale, and three in Mistral, a fraction of what they once controlled.
Jacques Schnee, ever the opportunist, had scrambled to salvage what he could. He had tried to persuade the Atlas Council to approve a covert mining operation in the unclaimed lands of Menagerie, hoping to exploit the region's untapped resources without alerting the Faunus population. But for once, the council had shown restraint. Fearful of reigniting tensions with the Faunus and unintentionally strengthening the White Fang's influence, they had flatly refused his proposal.
And so, here Whitley was, handling the logistics of the SDC's withdrawal from Vacuo while his father turned his attention to Vale and Mistral, desperate to maintain their grip on those kingdoms. The elder Schnee was undoubtedly maneuvering, using every trick in the book to reinforce the company's dwindling presence.
Yet despite all of this—despite the political maneuvering, the loss of resources, the desperate attempts to maintain power—one fact loomed over Whitley more than any other.
Since the moment he arrived in Vacuo, someone had tried to kidnap him.
And what had his family done in response?
Nothing. There had been no call. No message. Not even a word of concern.
His family had not reached out to him.
Not after the attempted kidnapping. Not after what he had endured on that train. Not even to check if he was still alive.
There had been no rush to his aid, no desperate plea for his safety. His father had not sent any security measures to ensure it wouldn't happen again. His mother—if she was even sober enough to be aware—hadn't bothered to reach out. His sisters, one too consumed by duty and the other too distant from him, had not so much as sent a message.
Whitley had been left to recover on his own.
And yet, he hadn't truly been alone.
The people who had saved him, who barely even knew him, had been the ones to ease his mind in the aftermath. They had been there when he had needed reassurance. They had made sure he was okay. It was a stark contrast to his own family, who had once again proven that he was little more than a footnote in their grander schemes.
And now, as he sat in the dim light of his room, he found himself at a crossroads.
A decision loomed before him—one that could alter the course of his life forever.
He could stay. Stay within the grasp of the Schnee Dust Company, bound to his father's machinations, expected to carry the weight of a legacy that had never truly been his. He could remain in Atlas, in the comfort of familiarity, where everything was cold, structured, and suffocating.
Or…
He could leave.
Just as his sisters had.
He could escape. He could turn his back on the company, on the family that had never truly been one, and even on the last name that tied him to a legacy he had never asked for. He could choose to experience life beyond the pristine halls of the Schnee estate, beyond the sterile efficiency of Atlas. He could go with Jaune's group, see the world through a lens that wasn't dictated by corporate interests and political power.
He wanted that. He needed that.
But still, he hesitated.
He wasn't naïve enough to think this was a decision he should make on impulse. If he left, there would be no going back. The consequences of such a choice were irreversible.
And so, before he did anything rash, he needed a second opinion. He needed to hear from someone who wasn't entangled in the Schnee family's web of cold indifference.
But who?
Whitley's gaze drifted to his scroll, fingers tightening around the device as he brought it to his lap. He opened his contacts, scanning through the names.
His father's name stared back at him, a bitter reminder of the man who had ignored him his entire life. His mother's name was there too, but he knew better than to call—she was either asleep or passed out drunk.
His eyes lingered on Winter's name, but he knew she was too busy. Even if she answered, what would she say? That duty came first? That he needed to endure?
Then there was Weiss.
But the thought of calling her filled him with an unease he wasn't ready to confront. Their relationship had been fractured for so long. He had said things—hurtful things—before she left. Things he wasn't sure could be taken back. Would she even pick up? Or would she see his name and simply ignore it?
Whitley's gaze lingered on the names of Jaune and the others. These were people who had been there for him—people who, despite barely knowing him, had shown him more warmth and consideration than his own family. If there was anyone he could talk to about this, it was them.
Without hesitation, he tapped on Jaune's contact and brought the Scroll to his ear. The ringing tone echoed in the quiet of his room, stretching on for several seconds before it finally cut off—straight to voicemail.
Whitley sighed as the recording ended, lowering the Scroll with a frown. He considered leaving a message but shook his head. No, this wasn't something he wanted to say over voicemail.
Instead, he scrolled down and selected the next best person—Vernal.
He hesitated only for a moment before pressing call. The line rang a few times before a familiar voice picked up.
[Hey, kid! What's up?] Vernal's voice came through, casual and familiar.
Whitley couldn't help but smile slightly. "Oh, uh… not much," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was just… I was hoping I could hang out with you guys again... Like, tomorrow? I've got a few things I need some help with,"
Vernal chuckled on the other end. [You don't even need to ask, Whit, just come down tomorrow, and we'll talk, alright?]
Relief washed over him, and he found himself nodding, even though she couldn't see it. "Yeah… sounds good," he said. Then, a little softer, "Thanks, Vernal,"
[Don't mention it, I'll see you tomorrow, kid,]
"Goodnight, Vernal," Whitley said, a small, genuine smile forming on his lips.
['Night, Whit,]
The call ended, and for the first time in a long while, Whitley felt something close to peace. He set the Scroll down, exhaled deeply, and leaned back in his chair.
Tomorrow, he would take the first step...