When Lisa Lavender entered the coffee shop, she blearily scanned the tables. Extra tired from the long walk, she only started perking up thanks to the aroma of brewing beans. Spying a brown-haired woman sitting toward the back, reading, she approached.
"Were you the one who messaged me?" She asked them.
The woman glanced up from her collection of papers through horn-rimmed glasses. "I was. Please have a seat."
Lisa crumpled onto the opposite stool. It wobbled as she straightened her spine. She immediately picked up a small menu.
"Mind if I order something? I skipped breakfast."
A plate of scones was pushed over. "Have some of mine."
The news reporter was supposed to be watching her calorie intake. Fitting into her signature, extra slim pant suits was becoming more difficult with each passing year. But her rumbling stomach would not be ignored.
"Thanks!" She greedily bit into the pastry. "You, hmm, bought yourself ten minutes. What have you got for me?"
"First, do you know who I am?"
"Felicia Peregrine. Senior most forensics technician at the Vale Institute of Forensic Sciences." Lisa answered around another bite.
"You did your homework."
"Your fancy title is the only reason I showed up."
Even then, Lisa debated ducking the meeting. She was not in the habit of responding to unsolicited messages from 'government whistleblowers.' Most of them were cranks.
Sensing this, Felicia took the deadline seriously. "Here then. Look at this."
A vanilla folder was pushed across the table. Finishing the scone, Lisa licked her fingers and warily took the file. Her 'crank' sense was beginning to tingle.
Regardless, she opened the folder. Inside was a stack of official looking papers printed in double spaced type. Each sheet was held in place by metal file prongs that pressed through holes punched through the top margins.
Having a hard time focusing, Lisa asked. "And this is?"
"A crime scene report. What you are holding is an unfiltered forensics summary of the Vytal Festival Fairgrounds attack."
This pronouncement had the reporter giving the papers a double take. If true, what had been dropped in front of her was a treasure trove of information. The attack had been a front-page story.
Had been.
Recent actions by Atlas had displaced that day from the public imagination. Still, there would eventually be an official inquiry into the event. Having an unredacted view of the tragedy could prove valuable.
"You're telling me that this is a forensic examination of the White Fang attack? The one that resulted in the deaths of around a dozen VPD officers?" She flipped through the pages, pausing on the glossy picture of an upturned burning police cruiser.
"According to Commissioner Nadder, yes."
"But you think differently?"
"I know differently. In that folder are my team's notes on the crime scene. The overall picture disagrees strongly with the Commissioner's narrative."
Once again, Lisa struggled with the text. Even if she were not dead tired, the reporter would have had a hard time understanding. The report was filled with technical jargon and graphs that required extensive training to understand.
"I have no idea what any of this means." She said before setting the file down.
Felicia rubbed her nose. "Then let me give you a summary. The explosive devices used in the supposed attack are colloquially known as 'Lagune Bombs.' Burn patterns suggest the bombs were lobbed from some type of launcher at the officers from a central location."
The technician reached over the table. She flipped through the folder until she found and tapped a picture. In the middle of the frame was what looked like a circus tent.
"After the detonations, nearly all LEOs present were either grievously wounded or dead. An exception was Officer Piper." Her finger traced down to another picture of a smoldering pile of hay. "His remains were located a fair distance away from the others. The service weapon found with him had fired several rounds. Presumably, he was in pursuit of a suspect before meeting a similar end."
"Okay? I don't see any discrepancies with the official line."
Commissioner Nadder had been clear in the presser. His people were responding to reports of White Fang in the area. They found a camp hidden on the fairgrounds. From there, a literal firefight erupted.
It sounded like an open and shut case.
"The first inconsistency is that, from all indications, there were likely three or fewer assailants. Not a camp full of them."
"How do you know?"
"Impressions at the scene. We found less than thirty unique tracks. Taking into consideration those who worked to contain the resulting fires, there were very few people in the area at the time of the attack."
That was troubling, but, if true, it could be a case of VPD inflating the other side's numbers. The department was filled with proud individuals. Losing so many personnel to such a small group had to be humiliating.
Hearing no objections, Felicia continued on. "The second discrepancy is that we found no trace of the White Fang anywhere at the scene."
Lisa blinked. "What? None?"
"No sleeping bags. No supplies. No indications at all that anyone was living there. Which, you would have to admit, is strange. The Fang could not have taken the whole camp with them if they had fled on short notice."
Another troubling point to consider. Lisa could not come up with a good explanation that did not sound silly. But she did think of a few problems with Felicia's presentation.
"Wait… What about these Lagune Bombs? Aren't they a signature type of weapon used by the White Fang. And also, didn't they claim responsibility for the attack?"
All of this conjecture was moot if the terrorists took responsibility.
She shook her head. "Anyone could have made those bombs. They are devilishly simple to build, hence why they grew popular with both sides of the Faunus Wars. As for the White Fang's claims, well, why wouldn't they?"
"Why wouldn't they, what?"
"Take credit. Extremist organizations live and die off of their reputations. If they could receive notoriety for blooding Atlas' ally without lifting a finger, then why not do so?"
With her diet already ruined for the day, Lisa absently began eating another pastry. The other woman's explanations were plausible. Or they sounded that way to her sleep deprived brain.
"It's an interesting theory..."
"You know what's even more interesting? This."
Another folder was pushed across the tabletop. This one was much thinner. On top was a single photograph of a heap of wood and twisted metal. What looked like blood oozed out from underneath the pile.
Suddenly feeling less hungry, Lisa set aside the half-eaten pastry. "What am I looking at?"
"This is Officer Fiddle. He was Officer Piper's patrol partner. Within a day of the Fairgrounds attack, he was found dead inside an under-construction flight terminal. As you can see, a section of scaffolding fell on him."
"Wow… that's some bad luck."
"Yes. Bad luck. Just like the previous Commissioner breaking his neck. Or a detective being shot in the head. Misfortune just seems to be following the department lately."
Feeling uncomfortable, Lisa closed the folder. "Your ten minutes are up. Thanks for the meal, but I have to get back to work."
"Is this not exciting enough for you? Huh?" The technician huffed, knowing that the news reporter was no longer interested in her spun yarns. "You know, I did my homework on you as well."
Lisa hastily stood. "I'm sure."
"You're the one who brought down Vale's Chief of Police. The Council did away with the whole office because of your reporting."
That was Lisa Lavender's claim to fame. She had published a series of stories that meticulously exposed links between a major division of VPD and organized crime. It had made her the talk of the town.
It was also the reason nobody in government would take her calls. She was effectively frozen out of the halls of power. Without access, she was stuck doing fluff pieces and spending her mornings with any kook, weirdo, or conspiracy theorist who thought they had found another 'smoking gun.'
She was over it.
The notoriety was not worth the price of admission. If she could turn back time, she would have never published those stories. Or she would have let someone else have the by-line.
Although Lisa should have departed the shop immediately, she could not help but rebuke the other woman. "Those stories were backed by extensive research. Not scattershot connections and innuendo."
At heart, she was a truth-teller. A truth-teller in danger of losing her job to her co-worker's sweater wearing, bimbo side piece. But a truth-teller, nonetheless.
"I'm no stranger to research." Felicia pushed the folders again. "Take those with you. Have an outside expert look at everything. I don't mind, but you will see I am right."
Not wanting to argue any further, Lisa relented. She carried the files out of the coffee shop with a tight grip. Along the way, she also ordered a caffeinated drink to go.
Arriving back at her office, she dropped the folders into a bin to mingle with the other bits of 'fan mail' she received daily. Staring at her computer screen, her mind was blank. Good stories did not come to her as easily as they had in the old days.
Her eyes gradually drifted to the bin.
A deep sigh left her lips when she realized that there might be something inside those files that could be used. Probably not the same narratives that Felicia wanted to tell, but the possibility existed. Pictures from a crime scene always brought eyeballs.
Shaking her head, she pulled the materials out. Laying them down on her desk, she unfastened the papers to spread them around. Then she began to read.
II. Old School
At an open-air bar towards the interior of Vacuo, Maria Calavera sat facing the arid city. The watering hole had formed around a literal well, kept full by the remains of an ancient oasis. As such, the spot was one of the wealthiest in the city.
Atlesian Air, a subsidiary of the Schnee Dust Corporation, had placed Maria and the other cruise ship guests at a series of nearby bungalows. It was their apology for the Grimm attack. Here, they were waited on hand-and-foot by the locals.
Maria was unused to such accommodations. Her limited means had her more accustomed to 'roughing-it' across Remnant. Still, there were perks. The landscape was beautiful before the afternoon heat set in.
Or so she was told.
A lack of sight robbed Maria of the majesty of the painted sands. Yet she could still enjoy the desert air. The calming winds felt wonderful on her world-weary bones.
"So… You're the Grimm Reaper?" Asked the platinum blonde woman beside her.
"I was the Grimm Reaper. Was." Maria answered Robyn Hill's question between sips of coconut water. "Now I'm retired."
The younger huntress had shadowed the retiree since their brief team up. Everywhere Maria went, she found Robyn hovering nearby, desperate to chat. Eventually, the old woman relented and allowed her closer on one condition.
Robyn had to pay for refreshments.
"That's funny." She tapped the side of her own cup. "You didn't seem all that retired last night. I'd dare say you eliminated more Grimm than I did."
"What you saw was an old crone fighting to preserve her miserable life. Nothing more."
A huntsman that only fought for themselves was not a huntsman. Without an ethos, there was no difference between them and a bunch of well-trained street toughs. They had to be dependable and selfless.
And Maria was far from either of those.
Robyn, however, did not seem to understand. "Yeash. Hope I'm half as much of a 'nothing more' once I'm your age. If I make it to your age. People don't tend to live as long as you have in this profession, y'know?"
There was a reason for that. Only cowards lived long.
"You've got a good head on your shoulders." Maria deflected. "Just don't do anything stupid. If you find a team you work well with, or even a just partner, stick with them. Solo work is…"
"For the birds?" Robyn chuckled.
"Walked right into that one, didn't I?"
They sat for a while longer. Maria found herself dozing off under the warmth of the morning sun. The sound of Robyn speaking again roused her to alertness.
"Sorry. What?"
"I was asking what you were going to do. Head back to Atlas?"
With the airship grounded, Atlesian Air was arranging direct flights for their customers to take back to their cities of departure. Though, such flights would not come any time soon. Transcontinental travel from Vacuo was hard to schedule on short notice, even by a massive corporation.
Luckily, Maria's destination was much closer than Atlas. "No, I think I'll stick around. Maybe hitch a ride heading east."
"East, huh? Towards Vale?"
"Maybe."
"I happen to be going that way myself."
"You don't say."
They engaged in a staring contest. For Maria, it was rather easy to win. A lack of eyes did sometimes have its advantages.
"Fine. I'll come out and ask." Robyn groaned in defeat. "Want to make the trek together? We worked well as a unit. You also just told me to stick with a partner if I find one, so it would be super hypocritical if you say 'no,' now."
As if that would stop Maria. Still, the girl had spunk.
"Navigating the Wastelands would be easier…"
"Then it's settled!" Her voice wavered a bit before she coughed. "So, uh, how were you planning on getting to Vale? You said something about hitchhiking. Is that a thing in these parts?"
Her wavering confidence caused the elder huntress to snort. "Vacuo doesn't have the mass transit systems we are used to. Getting around is a bit more ad-hoc. Unless you fancy walking, we will have to negotiate with private interests."
There were many options. Each with their pros and cons.
The desert's nomadic tribes were the safest choice. Due to their knowledge of the terrain, they were best equipped to avoid the numerous hazards of the wasteland, from sandstorms to local wildlife. But their caravans moved slowly, as they valued preservation over destination.
There were also numerous shipping companies. They transported, by sea and land, raw materials from Vacuo to the other kingdoms on a timely schedule. Exchanging labor for free travel was common and practically a rite of passage.
Unfortunately, there were many unscrupulous shippers out there. Plenty of them would cut corners by choosing extra dangerous routes to save time. Picking the wrong job had resulted in many huntsmen being written off as lost cargo.
And then there was Shade Academy. Though Maria was quick to dismiss that option as she relayed the information. Robyn questioned this.
"Why wouldn't Shade help us? Isn't the headmaster basically the ruler of Vacuo?"
She was correct on the second point. The Council of Vacuo was what the people of Mistral would refer to as a 'paper tiger.' Although the other kingdoms formally acknowledged them as the rightful government, they had no real power. In a land as wild as Vacuo, only might was recognized.
Shade, as the foremost trainer of advanced-Aura users in the region, had the might. The headmaster wielded that power to achieve a modicum of stability for the kingdom. He used every tool at his disposal to keep civilization going.
And that was why Robyn was wrong on the first point. "Shade doesn't have the resources to spare on a pair of huntresses trying to leave the kingdom."
Theodore was the most frugal of headmasters. He had to be. The academy did not have the luxury of being wasteful. Every speck of Dust, ammo, and human capital had to be stretched as far as they could go.
Even if Shade were to help, a large favor would be asked in kind. Maria was not keen to owe Theo anything. The two of them had never seen eye-to-eye.
"Where does that leave us, then?" Robyn asked quite astutely.
"Looking for a shipper." Maria grimaced. "We'll need to do some research. But I'm sure there is a short-term job, or maybe a sequence of them, that will get us close to the border. Maybe for a courier service?"
"A decent idea, but who will trust a foreigner and her granny with protecting anything valuable?"
While not appreciating the 'granny' comment, Maria understood the sentiment. "It would help if we had a ringer. Someone who looked the part of a big burly guard."
"Where are we going to-"
"What do you mean I'm not getting paid!?"
Everyone in the bar was startled by the sudden yell. Maria turned her head and perceived the outline of a large body. The source was walking with their Scroll out, broadcasting a long-distance conversation for all to hear.
"The contract was for you to protect the passengers all the way back to Atlas. You only reached Vacuo; thus the contract is null and void." Said the person on the other end.
The body, who Maria could now identify as belonging to Dee, groaned before making a counteroffer. "We got midway there. Pay me half."
"All allocated funding is being diverted towards ship repairs and returning our customers back home. Honestly, you should be happy we are not suing you to recoup our losses."
Knowing the reputations of the SDC, Maria guessed they had strongly considered becoming litigious. Likely, the only thing that stopped them was a cost-analysis. The Corp was likely to lose more money in lawyer fees than make back from a huntsman guard.
Dee cursed up a storm. "Fine. When are the first flights out of here?"
The cruise representative laughed. "Oh… You're serious… What part of customers do you not understand? We will not be spending any extra lien on you."
"How am I supposed to get back to Argus, then?"
"You're a huntsman. Figure it out."
"Why you dirty-"
"If you wish to communicate with us in the future, please contact our legal representatives first. Goodbye."
As they disconnected, a synthetic voice began speaking. It thanked Dee for contacting Atlesian Air before suggesting he take a 'caller satisfaction survey.' While the first question was asked, he hung up.
In a daze, he walked over to a free-standing wall. Maria was told that local artists used it for public murals. He leaned forward to rest his head against the structure. Shoulders sagging, he softly muttered expletives.
"Sounds like someone just became available." Maria smirked.
"Hmm." Robyn shrugged. "He's not my first choice. Or even my second. But, if nothing else, I suppose we could use him as a pack mule."
/ / /
"What kind of stupid name is Ruby Rose, anyway?"
Jaune bit his tongue. He was trying to pay attention in class. It was hard enough to follow the fast-paced curriculum of Beacon when you already lacked book smarts.
"Did her parents want her to be a stripper?"
But it was next to impossible when distracted.
"Or maybe a D-list actress?"
At last, he glanced back and up. Higher in the amphitheater, Roman was floating above Jaune's fellow team leader. Oblivious to the critiques, Ruby was dutifully writing in her notebook. Noticing him looking, she waved.
"Also, her penmanship is atrocious."
"Will you-" Jaune started to whisper.
"Mr. Arc!" He turned to the front of the class, where Dr. Oobleck. "Finally contributing to class? This is excellent! What is the answer?"
"Uh…" Having not heard the question, Jaune drew a blank.
"Say 'night vision.'" Roman helpfully supplied.
Hoping the spirit was not messing with him, Jaune repeated. "Night vision?"
"Yes! Yes! Very good! Faunus are known for their natural ability to see in the dark. Now, the battle truly turned against General Lagune when he tried to ambush the opposing Faunus army at night. Their sentries easily spotted them as-"
"Tsk tsk tsk. You really need to work on your focus. Good thing you have me, the king of multitasking, on your side."
Jaune turned slowly this time to glare daggers at the dead thief. He stopped when his eyes landed on Blake Belladonna. The secret faunus sat beside her partner, dozing in place. Exhaustion was etched on her face.
That was not the only change on her that he noticed.
Since last he saw her, Blake had cut her hair. The style she wore was to her shoulders rather than running the length of her back. Combined with the big bow hiding her animal ears, she looked adorable.
He shook his head. There was no time for treacherous thoughts like that. Not when he was still unsure of her allegiance.
A hand settled on his shoulder. Startled, he looked to Pyrrha who occupied the seat on his left. There was a questioning expression about her. He rubbed his neck, trying to play off his previous actions as stretching. She let him go to return her attention to the lesson at hand.
"That concludes today's lesson! For next time, come prepared to discuss the late stages of the Faunus Rights Revolution and the Menagerie Compromise!" Most students were already heading for the door when he added. "Oh, and if anyone is interested in helping host our visiting students, let me know! The first wave will be here any day now!"
"Visiting students?" Jaune asked his partner.
Pyrrha hummed. "Students from the other academies are temporarily transferring to Beacon to compete in the Vytal Festival tournament. Some teams come early to make the process more gradual and minimize distractions."
He blinked. "When did they announce this?"
"They've been talking about it non-stop, Jauney!" Nora cried, appearing in the narrow space between the two, frightening Jaune. "You'd know that if you'd stop sneaking off every chance you get. What do you do when you're alone, anyway? Are you up to no good?"
"Wha- No! I'm not doing anything bad-"
"You better not! We need you locked-in! Mama wants to bring home that Vytal trophy!"
"I didn't know you were so competitive, Nora." Pyrrha said, her curiosity aroused.
"Eh, it's more situational." She shrugged. "Between my strength, your skill, Jaune's toughness, and Weiss' overall Weissy-ness, we have this tourney in the bag! Assuming, of course, we take it seriously."
Being chastised by Nora was a strange feeling. She was not even being mean about it. Just being incredibly blunt.
And she was telling the truth.
Jaune had been neglecting his team. He thought eventually he would settle into being a full-time student. But lately, that dream was feeling less and less likely. His criminal career seemed far from being over.
"Where is Weiss, anyway?" Pyrrha asked.
The three looked around and found her chatting with Dr. Oobleck. He appeared animated. Much more so than usual, anyway.
"Wonderful!" The History Professor cheered. "A volunteer at last! Believe it or not, we have not had many students display an interest in getting to know their global peers!"
"It's no trouble at all." The beautiful girl preened under the praise. "I understand what it is like to leave home and attend school in a distant land. Though we may soon be competitors, I am more than happy to be someone whom they can unburden their weaknesses to."
"Did you mean 'unburden their troubles?'"
She tilted her head. "Isn't that what I said?"
Jaune cringed at his crush's transparent attempt at underhanded tactics. Pyrrha was in a similar boat, burying her face in her hands. Nora had a different reaction.
"Oh, that's a great idea!" She leaped over the desks and into the row below. "Hey, Doctor O! I want to spy on them too!"
"I can't." The redhead grumbled.
"There, there." He patted her back.
She did not bother looking up at him. "I just can't, Jaune."
"Me neither. Should we wait for them?"
They had a free period next. Team JWNN would usually, at Weiss' urging, head for the library to work on any recently assigned homework. The heiress was too distracted at the moment to actually force the issue, though.
"Actually…" Pyrrha had finally abandoned her steeple. "Maybe we could go on without them. You know, just the two of us, together."
"Yeah, I guess we could scout ahead and save them some seats."
"No. I mean-"
"-and who wouldn't like to be shown around by the Pyrrha Nikos."
Weiss was now looking up at them, expectantly. Or rather, at Pyrrha. Summoned, the Invincible Girl quietly sighed before putting on a smile. Being less impulsive than their orange-haired teammate, she used the stairs to reach the lower floor.
Jaune was about to join the rest of his team when Roman appeared. "Let's beat feet before you get roped in as well."
"Wouldn't it be weird if I didn't help?"
"They didn't ask, did they? Besides, you don't have time to be performing thankless public services. We got a bitch hunt to direct."
"I… think the term is 'witch hunt.'"
"Unlike the Schnee and lady Nikos, I say exactly what I mean." He stated before floating away.
Conceding the point, even if he was unclear on the particulars, the boy headed for the door. This was a good moment to check in with the crew and see how everything was going. He just needed to find a quiet corner to make the call to Leroy.
/ / /
"Lookie what we got here." Said a mocking, masculine voice.
Velvet Scarlatina took a shuddering breath. When the class she had been assisting let out, the faunus girl was the first one to rush out. She was eager to link up with her team. As such, she had not expected to hear other footfalls so close behind her.
That was when she knew she was being followed. Having a good idea of who her pursuers were, she quickly turned down a less traveled hallway. There was a side door at the end of the corridor that emptied into Professor Peach's arboretum.
Cutting through would accomplish two objectives. First, that path would bring her to the training facilities faster. Second, she could disappear into the foliage.
Unfortunately, there was a reason the hallway was deserted. In her agitated state, she had forgotten that the arbor was closed for maintenance. By the time she remembered that the door would be locked to prevent through traffic, it was too late to change course.
Turning around, she saw who had spoken. There were four boys, also from Dr. Oobleck's class. A team called 'Cardinal.'
She knew them as troublemakers. The sneers they gave whenever she tried to help them in their studies signaled the kind of trouble they were. Her mother, also a rabbit faunus, had warned her not to risk being alone around people like them.
Unfortunately, Team CRDL had forced the issue.
The lead boy, who Oobleck called 'Mr. Winchester,' spoke again. "We caught ourselves a bunny. How do you like that?"
He was tall and muscular with orange hair. The other three stood back, but once given permission, they surged forward to surround her in a semi-circle. Winchester led from behind, content to allow the others first dibs.
"Had our eyes on you for a while." Thrush, the one with the spiky green hair, grinned. "Nowhere to scamper off to now, huh?"
Her eyes drifted to a nearby window. Although an extreme measure, her Aura would allow her to break through easily. Reading her movements, the dirty-blond boy, Bronzewing, wordlessly shifted to block the way.
"Careful. They say cornered animals are the most dangerous." Lark said as he racked his long blue hair away from his face. "Even a hare can bite."
Blood rushed to her face. They all laughed at her perceived shame. What CRDL did not know was that this was not a sign of embarrassment.
It was rage.
She was holding in her anger. That was not an emotion she could afford. Feeling that way would lead her to doing something rash and violent.
Her team was on thin ice. Professor Goodwitch had told them point-blank that their spots at Beacon were in jeopardy. One more demerit or citation would force the school's hands.
Getting into an unauthorized fight, even to defend oneself, would not be looked kindly upon. Especially against a first-year team. CVFY had repeatedly learned that Beacon was a believer in collective punishment. It was why they were on teams to begin with.
Velvet did not want to be the reason they were all expelled. So she would have to endure the bullying. No matter how degrading.
"Think those ears are real?" Thrush asked stupidly.
Lark reached for her head. "Only one way to find out."
There was a sharp pain in her rabbit appendages as they were roughly pulled. Velvet bit her tongue. By not giving a reaction, she hoped they would grow bored and leave.
Instead, her lack of response only encouraged them. Thrush joined in. Bronzewing snorted. Winchester chuckled at the display, making a joke about working her ears like old school TV antennas to see if they got a signal.
Thick tears of frustration welled in her eyes. The pain was nearly unbearable. Before she could scream, someone new cleared their throat, loudly.
Cardin moved to the side just far enough so that Velvet could see who it was. Standing behind him was another boy. His deep blue eyes bore into them all. If looks could kill, all of CRDL would be ten feet under.
"Right, what's all this, then?"
"What's it look like?" Thrush replied as his and Lark's hands let go of Velvet's faunus features.
Her own hands immediately replaced them. She rubbed the fur, using a pinch of Aura to soothe the pain. While this was happening, they continued talking around her presence.
"Seems like some šajka are playing with a pretty little devotchka." He took a few steps forward. "I wouldn't fault you all for a bit of free lubbilubbing, except she doesn't seem all that willing."
Velvet's ears twitched again. Not in pain, but in confusion at the use of old Mantlian words. Her grandparents sometimes spoke this way, but the use was not quite right. His mouth moved like someone who had learned the dialect second-hand.
Cardin also did not understand, but he got the gist. "Why don't you mind your own business, Arc? Leave, unless you want to catch a beating."
"That would be a lot more intimidating if you could beat me. What is your record against me in our one-on-one spars now? 0-5? 0-6? I've lost track."
Winchester stomped toward Arc. "Real funny. We both know I'm three times as skilled as you. The only reason you win is because of your large Aura reserves."
"But I do win." They were now within an arm's length of each other.
"In a real fight, I'd beat you." Winchester snarled.
"In a real fight, I'd end you." Arc coolly replied.
The exchange was incendiary. But were those words worth a fight? In the middle of the school, no less?
They were certainly acting like it was.
Both boys squared up. Winchester cracked his knuckles. Arc reached into his pocket, possibly for his Scroll. Whether that was to call for back-up or to use the device as an improvised weapon, Velvet was unsure.
Neither was Winchester. His eyes dipped, to take stock of the other boy's actions. Countermeasures like that meant that they were no longer posturing. That was when the act finally dropped.
"Whatever." He shuffled past his foe before saying back to the goon squad. "Let's leave the freaks to themselves."
They looked to their leader, baffled. Retreat was a strange choice, considering CRDL had a four on one advantage. Yet they followed his lead anyway. As they left, they made faces. Arc condescendingly waved at them with his free hand as they went by.
"Probably going to pay for that one later." He muttered before speaking to her. "Are you alright? Didn't mean to white knight you there, but I really don't like those guys."
"N-no, it's fine. Thank you." She truly meant that.
"Actually, I'm glad I ran into you." He smiled warmly.
"You are?"
That was a strange thing to find out. She knew of Arc thanks to her team. But Velvet did not think that he knew who she was.
"I've seen you in class a few times and wanted to talk, but other things kept coming up."
"O-oh?"
Another unexpected development. No one had ever sought her out like this before. A few acquaintances at Pharos Academy had previously confessed romantic feelings for her before, but never a total stranger.
She was also not totally against the idea. Though more reflexive than fully thought-out, her calling Arc cute to Coco had been real. He had a boyish and easy-going charm to him. They were also close enough in school years that no one would think them odd to be dating.
There were problems, of course. She and Yatsuhashi had been dancing around each other since becoming teammates. A spark existed between them that would be hard to extinguish or deny.
Was it fair to bring Arc into that equation? Similarly, could she toss aside what had been built with Yats over some guy she had just met? Did she really want to be juggling a huntsman love triangle like some kind of trashy romance novel protagonist?
All these thoughts ran through her head before he spoke. "Yeah! I wanted to thank you again for what you did for me against those Lancers."
"Oh!" Her face was burning at the misunderstanding. "Well, I was just doing my part. You really should thank the rest of my team. They were the ones fighting. I was just on navigation."
"Your team?" He asked, perplexed.
She nodded. "Coco. Fox. Yats. Team CFVY."
"Wait… That was your team! You're the lady who was in the cockpit!"
Now she was puzzled. "Who else would I be?"
"No, no." He waved his hands. "Gosh, this is confusing. Okay, so, I had no idea you were also on that team that was with me against the Lancer Queen. Small world, right? But I was actually talking about when you helped me before all that."
Her confusion grew. She had not helped anyone else against Lancers. At least, not successfully.
Images of an Atlesian soldier being carried away by a drone came to the forefront of her mind. The terror of that day was imprinted inside there like a photograph. Her perfect memory made it difficult to forget that failure.
With her recall activated, she began to notice something. The soldier and Arc had identical chins. Their voices were also oddly similar.
A shaky question left her mouth. "W-who are you?"
"What do you mean? I'm Jaune. Jaune Arc."
There was a ringing in her ears. Like static from a video set. The sound drowned out everything else.
Connections were made at the speed of light. Jaune Arc. Soldier Jaune. Student Arc.
They were all the same person.
This entire time, she thought he had been killed. A confluence of events had kept her from realizing that not only was he alive, but he was also in one of her classes. All the guilt and anxiety for the last few months had been completely misplaced.
She then began to laugh.
"Velvet? Are you okay?" He asked in concern.
She laughed harder. Almost manically.
"O-okay. Well, it was nice to see you again. I should probably get going." He made to walk away.
If he had not turned his back on her, he might have witnessed her rabbit ears vibrating. He would have also seen the alarm in Velvet's eyes at the sight of him leaving again. With her brain still rebooting from the shock, her body went into action.
In a bold display, she leapt upon him. Jaune squawked as they both fell to the ground. Her arms and legs locked around his midsection to keep a tight hold.
Now that Velvet had found Jaune Arc, he was not going anywhere.