"...Is that all that happened?" Ozpin asked.
Ronald immediately looked downwards. He didn't know what sort of face he was making. But it'd surely blow their cover. He shut his eyes, trying to match his heartbeat to the ticking sound of the office. So far, it wasn't working.
"Correct," Grayson said.
Ozpin said, "To summarise, you four stumbled upon a group of White Fang in the forest. Despite your efforts for a peaceful resolution, they attacked you, and you killed them out of self-defence?"
"…I know this is really bad," Jonathan muttered.
"Yet, you cannot recall where it happened at all?"
"We cannot," Grayson replied. "Survival was our priority."
"…Is that the truth, Mr. Viewforth?"
The tense silence compelled Ronald to open his eyes again. Philip's face seemed rigid and blank. There was no way to tell what was going on inside his head.
Philip sucked in a deep breath. "Yes, Professor Ozpin."
Ozpin sighed. "Very well. You may all go. I wish to speak with Mr. Winston in private."
Panic erupted inside Ronald. He stiffened his legs to stop himself from running away. The others were staring at him, warning him not to say anything. He kept his head low. Their footsteps gradually faded behind him. He was now at the mercy of his headmaster.
"Young man, I don't need to remind you of the seriousness of the situation. While I am glad none of you are hurt, I cannot prevent this from happening again if I don't know the whole truth." Ozpin stood up with his cane. "It is not too late to do the right thing. What really happened back there?"
Ronald swallowed hard. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stop shaking. He knew what to do; he must do the right thing.
"It's…just as Gray said."
"…I see. You are dismissed. Tell Mr. Moore I will handle the authorities."
Ronald nearly sprinted to the elevator. The doors couldn't have closed sooner. He leaned against the wall and gasped for air. His thumb pressed hard against his necklace. Was he being too obvious? Definitely, but he did all he could. What else was he supposed to do? He kept reminding himself that until the elevator stopped. When the doors opened again, he felt marginally more at ease. He passed the secretary's desk and turned a corner. The peaceful, empty, greyish corridor was a welcome change.
"Did you follow my plan?"
He immediately turned around. Grayson was leaning against a wall. His face was as unmoving as a stone sculpture.
Ronald nodded. "Yes…"
"Good. Ozpin has no proof. He can only speculate." Grayson pushed himself off the wall. "I expect you in the amphitheatre in fifteen minutes. Do not wander."
Ronald let out a deep sigh as Grayson left him alone. This had been one of the most stressful days in his life. At least it couldn't get any worse.
"Ronald?"
No. No no no no!
Pyrrha smiled. "I thought I saw you. It's kind of a miracle we never got the chance to talk. How have you been?"
He turned around and pulled his hood as high as possible, covering most of his face and vision. The ground was spinning at his feet. His body felt disgustingly hot and sweaty. His throat dried up all of a sudden.
"…I-I'm fine," he muttered.
She hummed. "I'd be more convinced if you can look at me."
He tensed up. More people were heading towards them.
"Pyrrha, we've been looking for you," Jaune said. "Oh, hi Ronald!"
"Is he okay?" someone asked.
A high-pitched voice replied, "What do you mean? He's more than okay! I mean, who doesn't turn their backs when talking to someone? Well, maybe if they're super handsome or ugly. I hope you're not ugly. That'd be awful… Nice hoodie, by the way."
Pyrrha chuckled. "Ren, Nora, this is Ronald. I met him back in the Mistral Tournament."
Nora gasped. "Wait, the Mistral Tournament?! That sounds AWESOME~ Did you beat him? Well, obviously, you did. Otherwise, you wouldn't get the first place-and-the-cereal-box-and-things."
"I did. But it was a close one. He almost got the better of me."
Ren glanced at him. "That…would explain a few things."
"Yeah, I mean, his sword is like whish-whoosh-whoah!" Nora's hands cut through the air. "Wakey, wakey. Can I take a peek? Pretty please?"
An overwhelming dread filled his heart; her hand was upon him.
"Don't touch me!"
She froze as her hand hovered in mid-air. Her eyes widened before shifting into a frown. He grasped his necklace, the world caved in around him. He lost control again!
"Um…Ronald?" Jaune asked.
"Sorry. I'm sorry!"
He dashed away, running away from their glares. His eyes were blurry and sore. This was all his fault. People were getting hurt again because of him. He should've been better. He should've got this under control. Why did he ever speak up again?
Ronald sat on the dusty ground and hugged his legs. The afternoon sun shone through the open-air amphitheatre. His teammates were still talking. But that hardly mattered. The scene in the corridor kept playing in his mind. How could he mess up again? They must hate him now.
"Phil, I explicitly ordered you to hold."
Philip kicked the shattered training dummy away. "What? So I'm not the vanguard now? Make up your mind."
Grayson replied, "Different circumstances demand different strategies. In this scenario, the Grimm would have flanked you. My orders arise from legitimate reasons."
"Listen, I think you're getting the wrong idea. Just because I followed you that one time doesn't mean I'm your lapdog. You just told me stuff I would've done."
"It is not my concern if you cannot assess the situation properly." Grayson turned towards Jonathan. "Jo, you are slow and unreactive. Pay more attention."
Jonathan thinned his lips and nodded. His shaky hands slowly curled into fists.
The footsteps came to a halt before Ronald. He looked up and met Grayson's steely stare.
"Ron, you must always strive for improvement. Understood?"
Jonathan rubbed his eyes. "Gray, everyone is having a hard time right now. Why don't you just cut us some slack?"
"Why do you keep asking obvious questions? We are training to be Huntsmen. Everything else is irrelevant."
"…You're making this really difficult." He let out a long sigh. "Look, I need to go cool my head. Why don't you work on your people skills in the meantime, okay?"
Jonathan picked up his glaive and trudged away. The amphitheatre felt quieter without him.
"Shit, I actually agree with him." Philip scoffed and walked past Grayson. "Twiddling your thumbs from behind doesn't make you a leader, Grayson. It makes you a coward."
With that, they were alone. Grayson crossed his arms and gazed at the entrance. For a while, the suffocating silence was the only thing between them.
"Ron, do you agree with their assessments?"
Ronald flinched. "Y-Yes?"
Grayson exhaled deeply and gave him a slight nod. Gods knew what it'd take to help them.
Author's Notes:
In later chapters, you might consider Ronald (and Philip, to be fair) a tad bit overpowered. But I've limited him by giving him a set of rules and trauma. Lots of trauma.
See you next week.