The workshop, a makeshift haven nestled deep within the woods, was cluttered with remnants of Jaune's past and the promise of a new future. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the table strewn with tools and materials. A wooden base temporarily lay unformed, waiting for the touch of skillful hands. Jaune winced as he pressed his fingers down, a dull ache radiating through his body.
He pulled out a long metal rod, glinting like silver in the sunlight. He murmured to himself, "If it can heal, it can also hurt." The realization of his semblance hung heavily on his heart, tethering him to the past and the cruel lessons his father had ingrained in him.
The door creaked open, and Mia scampered in, her orange ears pricked up like a curious kitten. "Daddy! What's that?" she shouted, pointing to scattered parts across the tabletop with innocent excitement.
"It's a staff," Jaune replied, his voice tinged with weariness but also pride. "It'll help me focus my healing powers."
"Can I help?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she edged closer, hopping from one foot to the other.
"Of course!" Jaune couldn't suppress a smile. "But it's dangerous work; we don't want you to get hurt, okay?" The warning slipped out side by side with a flicker of warmth.
Mia nodded vigorously. "I'm not scared! I can be careful—like you showed me."
With her clumsily stitched leather gloves, she grabbed a smaller hammer and mimicked his movements with fervor. Every swing echoed in the room, a little too forceful for her size but filled with heart nonetheless.
"Whoa there! Not so hard!" Jaune chuckled, wincing as the metal clanged against the wooden table. "You're scaring the squirrels away."
"Squirrels?" She laughed, her giggle a lilting tune that rang through the air. "What if they're angry?"
"Then we'd have an army of angry squirrels on our hands, and trust me, you don't want that," he teased, watching as she accepted the absurdity with wide-eyed wonder.
Mia leaned close to observe what Jaune was crafting, her small fingers skimming over the various materials, leaving fingerprints of curiosity. "What's this part for?" She poked at a sleek, curved piece of metal.
"That's the focus for healing," Jaune explained, a mix of pride and sadness embedded in his tone. "It'll help me channel my powers, but... it comes at a cost."
"What kind of cost?" Her brow furrowed, shadows of adult understanding creeping into her eyes.
Jaune hesitated, gripping the edge of the workbench tightly. "Every time I use it, it hurts me. I get weaker each time I try to help someone," he confessed, the weight of those words pulling on his heart.
"Like a trade?"
"Yeah. A trade," he murmured, the truth bittersweet on his tongue. "But it will all be worth it if I can help save people. Like you."
Mia's gaze softened, innocence still shining amidst understanding. "You're going to be the best healer ever, Daddy!"
He smiled, heart swelling at her unwavering faith. "Maybe with you by my side, I can be," he responded, pouring warmth back into the room. "Alright, hand me that piece over there."
A few moments later, a spark ignited as Jaune pulled the parts together into a cohesive form of the Caduceus staff—gleaming and promising. He panted, beads of sweat forming on the edge of his brow, skin glowing faintly with exertion.
"Wow! It's beautiful! Can I help you carry it?" Mia's excitement bubbled over as she shot up to her feet.
"Let's forgo that until we're sure it can hold my weight," Jaune laughed, resting before the fire cooled down, tension easing, and creating a momentary sanctuary amidst the constant fight against his father's darkness within.
Night cloaked the forest as they settled at their small campfire, soft sounds of nature surrounding them. A cozy warmth from the gentle flames flickered against Jaune's armor.
Mia poked the fire, spells of thoughts dancing in her green eyes. "Tell me a story, please!"
"Alright," Jaune started, his mind weaving tales. "Once upon a time, in a world much like this, there was a knight. He was brave but faced a great tragedy."
"What happened?" She leaned in, breathless.
"The knight's father wanted him to embrace darkness, to wield power unrestrained. But the knight knew that true strength meant protecting the innocent."
Mia's eyes glistened. "Like you!"
"Exactly, like me," Jaune affirmed, heart swelling with pride and love. "The knight struggled against those shadows for many years, almost losing himself. But as he wandered, he found a little fox who reminded him about hope. She was lost and scared, but her spirit was unbroken."
"Did he save her?"
"Yes! And in return, she brought light back into his life, and both walked on a path of healing."
Mia glanced at him, her small frame radiating warmth. "Is that why I found you? To help you heal too?"
He met her gaze, his heart tightening. "You're exactly right," he whispered, a tear hinting in the corner of his eye. "You help me heal every day."
"Promise I can help you always?"
"Always," he swore as the flames danced.
The brightness of dawn filtered through the forest when Jaune awoke with a start, a bolt of pain shooting through him. Groaning, he staggered toward the mirror hanging on the wall, a solemn reminder of what he could no longer hide.
"Ugh," he hissed, cradling his face.
The mirror reflected the jagged lines of his skeletal jaw and the wear of dark circles beneath unyielding blue eyes. He reached for the mask but hesitated, conflicted.
"Please," he muttered to himself, "I want to be worthy of what I fought for."
With a shaky breath, Jaune donned the mask, the cold material brushing against his skin, a shroud against the world. There was something liberating about it—a cloaked identity emerging from the edges of pain.
"Look at you!" Mia's voice burst in, excitement glimmering in her eyes.
"Do you like it?"
Mia beamed, "You look like a superhero!"
"Superhero, huh?" Jaune ran his fingers along the mask, a mix of bitterness and humor bubbling up inside. "I suppose I'll need a cape, then."
"Can I get you one?" she giggled, the delight only she could produce regarding the word 'cape.'
"Sure, but only if it comes in black and white," he smirked.
Then, he turned back towards the mirror, the version of himself that had emerged, unfamiliar yet strangely powerful.
"I'm Mercy," he whispered, feeling the weight of that name settle over him. He'd channel the pain into purpose, lock away the suffering, and fight for the innocent—those who deserved a champion.
Every day, Jaune fought against his past, gaining a deeper understanding of his Semblance, but the cost was steep. Each burst of healing drew from a reservoir of his own vitality, and the toll was relentless. Time and again, as magic flowed through him to aid others, he could feel fragments of himself slipping away like grains of sand through clenched fingers.
"Mia!" he called, sweat glistening on his brow, voice echoing through the workshop.
"Yes?" she scampered in, her tiny feet barely brushing the ground.
"I need your help," he panted, clutching the side of the workbench. The air hung thick with fatigue.
"Are you hurt?" She rushed to his side, concern etched on her small face.
"I'm okay, it just… it takes a lot out of me when I use my powers. Let's practice focusing my healing," he said, striving for steadiness.
Mia nodded eagerly, determination shining within her. They positioned themselves across from each other, gentle firelight swaying noisily as they focused.
"Just breathe, alright?" he instructed, guiding her hands toward his. "Feel what it's like to channel and help."
The night wrapped around them like a warm blanket, their breaths mingling in the stillness as Jaune concentrated. "You have power in you as much as I do. But remember, it's okay to feel tired, and it's okay to ask for help."
Mia responded with unwavering resolve.
Together, they summoned a soft glow, a fraction of healing weaving around their joined hands.
"See? You can do it! Just like the knight and the fox," he encouraged, a flicker of hope igniting within him.
"I want to be strong too, like you!"
And that reaffirmation sparked life in Jaune's heart—a chance for redemption, for healing, for a brighter tomorrow.
Time slipped away as if caught in an eternal loop, moving in circles of acceptance a little begrudgingly until Jaune finally learned to embrace his role.
Later, beneath the same star-studded sky, they shared dreams of brighter tomorrows and hidden scars, souls stitched together by love and compassion.
It was in that moment, surrounded by the quiet whispers of the forest, that Jaune found solace—not just in his powers, however flawed, but in the bond he held with this little girl who called him "Daddy."
In embracing his pain and donning the mask that transformed him from Jaune Arc to "Mercy," he discovered something profound: Healing was never just about powers or sacrifices; it was about love.