Hospital
The room was silent except for the soft beeping of the heart monitor. Rinko lay motionless in the hospital bed, his breathing slow and shallow. His normally pale complexion had lost what little color it had, and a faint sweat clung to his brow. Despite the warmth in the room, an unnatural coldness clung to him.
Shion Zaiden, a huntress specializing in Nightmare Grimm, stepped forward, assessing him with a critical eye. Her fingers twitched against the silky threads of her weapon, a specialized tool designed to extract and contain Nightmares.
"So... this must be the guy," she muttered, tilting her head as she glanced back at the group standing behind her.
Team RWBY, Team JNPR, and Oscar stood tense, their gazes locked on Rinko. Weiss was gripping her arm, her knuckles white. Yang had her arms crossed tightly, jaw clenched. Even Ren, usually composed, had a furrowed brow, his eyes betraying concern.
"Yes," Weiss said, her voice firm but laced with urgency. "He has a Nightmare Grimm within him. How do we get rid of it?"
Shion hummed, stepping closer to Rinko's bedside. "Well, let's take a look first."
Without hesitation, she reached forward and unbuttoned his hospital gown, peeling it down to expose his upper torso.
A few sharp intakes of breath followed.
Weiss stiffened, her face heating ever so slightly before her eyes locked onto something far more pressing. Yang snapped her gaze, her expression hardening upon observing Rinko.
Their eyes widened at what they saw.
Dark, vein-like markings sprawled across Rinko's chest, winding and curling like the roots of a creeping vine. They pulsed faintly, shifting just beneath the surface of his skin like something alive.
"W-what...?" Yang's fists clenched, her golden eyes narrowing.
"The doctors should've seen this when they had to scan Rinko.. This means that this one's recent." Jaune murmured more to himself.
"It's still fresh, yet... desperate," Shion murmured, tracing the edges of the spreading marks with a careful touch. "This Nightmare is holding on for dear life. If it's this aggressive, that means he's fighting back hard. Do you have any idea where he might've picked it up?"
The group exchanged uneasy glances before Ruby stepped forward.
"F-from when we were stranded outside Argus," she said, swallowing hard. "We found a place to take shelter—a small farm called Brunswick Farms. But when we got there... it was a ghost town. Everyone was already dead."
"It was... horrible," Blake added softly, her ears flattening at the memory.
Shion let out a quiet sigh. "Brunswick Farms, huh? That makes sense."
"You've heard of it?" Ren asked.
She nodded. "It's not the first time I've heard of Nightmare infestations in abandoned places. But if an entire village was wiped out, then the Grimm there must have gone into survival mode. No hosts left, no more easy prey. It was desperate."
She turned back to Rinko, her violet eyes gleaming with determination. "Which means we have no time to waste."
With a flick of her wrist, Shion loosened her staff. Purple threads unraveled from its tips, flowing like liquid light. The ends wove together, forming a soft, glowing structure—an intricate web-like platform infused with a faint purple energy.
She glanced back at the group. "I'll send you into his Nightmare."
The air in the room seemed to thicken, pressing down on their chests.
Weiss's breath hitched. "What exactly do you mean by that?"
Shion met her gaze, unwavering. "To remove a Nightmare Grimm, we have to fight it from within. The Grimm attaches itself to the host's mind, creating an illusion—a dream that traps them in an endless loop of fear, regret, or despair. If we want to save him, we have to enter that dream and free him from it."
Jaune stepped forward. "How do we do that?"
Shion raised her hand, and the silver threads pulsed with light. "I'll connect you to his consciousness and pull you inside his mind. You'll be in his Nightmare, experiencing whatever horrors it has created to keep him trapped."
Yang's fists tightened. "And if we don't stop it in time?"
Shion exhaled. "Then the Grimm will win. It will completely siphon his Aura, and once it's done, the Grimm will multiply, seeking a new host."
A grim silence followed.
Weiss took a shaky breath before stepping forward. "Then what are we waiting for? Send us in."
Shion smirked slightly. "That's the spirit."
She gestured toward the glowing web-like bed.
"I can only send five people inside his consciousness. Who's willing to go?"
Team RWBY didn't hesitate—they all raised their hands at once.
Team JNPR, however, exchanged hesitant glances. The weight of the decision pressed on them. They wanted to help, but who among them should go? How could they choose?
Then—Oscar stepped forward. "I'm going." His voice was steady, resolute.
Nora frowned, concern lacing her tone. "Oscar... are you sure about this?"
Oscar hesitated for a brief moment before shaking his head. "I am... but I'm not the one going."
His meaning was clear. The atmosphere shifted.
Ozpin.
A cold prickle ran down Ren's spine. He narrowed his eyes, his mind working through the implications. "I see," he murmured.
Oscar nodded, pressing a hand over his chest as if steadying himself. "He... He can help. He's seen things like this before. If there's anyone who can guide us through the Nightmare, it's him."
Shion studied Oscar carefully. For a long moment, she said nothing, merely observing the subtle shift in his posture—the quiet authority in his stance, the way his presence felt just a little more... composed. It wasn't just Oscar standing before her.
Finally, she nodded.
"Alright. That makes five."
Turning back to the glowing threads, she lifted her staff, and the silver strands pulsed in response.
"Lie down." Her voice was steady but firm. "Once the connection is made, your bodies will remain here, but your minds will be drawn into Rinko's subconscious."
Team RWBY and Oscar stepped forward, exchanging brief glances before settling onto the woven platform. The soft, silk-like threads cradled them, their glow pulsing in rhythm with Shion's Aura.
With a graceful twirl of her staff, the threads reacted, shifting and curling upward. Thin strands extended, wrapping gently around their arms and covering their eyes like a delicate veil. The light pulsed in a slow, steady rhythm, almost like a heartbeat.
Shion inhaled deeply, centering herself. Then, she channeled her Aura.
"Hold on tight," she warned. "You're about to enter a world shaped by his mind... and his fears."
With a final surge of energy, the threads pulsed—and the world around them fractured. The hospital room dissolved into darkness. Then, everything faded to black.
Dreamscape
Kakashi's eyes fluttered open. His body ached, battered and bruised, while the dim glow of a single overhead lightbulb cast flickering shadows across the cold, unfeeling walls. His breath was slow, controlled—but his mind was a haze.
He stirred, only to feel the sharp bite of metal around his wrists. Shackles. He pulled at them instinctively, the iron restraints clanking loudly against the stone walls of his prison. His mask was scratched, and dirtied, but still intact.
Then it hit him. The fight.
He had been battling a shadowy figure. A relentless, formless entity that moved like a ghost, striking from the darkness. He had fought hard. And then—
He had been stabbed.
By a maid.
A maid? That part made no sense. His fingers twitched against the cold metal restraints as he tried to grasp the logic of it. Was this real? A hallucination? A Genjutsu? No—he could still feel the phantom sting of the blade in his back.
It felt too real.
A sound echoed through the chamber—footsteps.
Slow, deliberate, drawing closer. He turned his head toward the source, his lone visible eye narrowing.
A shadowed silhouette emerged from the darkness. It wasn't the faceless entity he had fought before. No—this one was different. More familiar.
Then the figure stepped into the light.
Obito.
Kakashi's breath hitched for just a fraction of a second. The face before him was unmistakable—shrouded in that same quiet confidence, his posture relaxed yet commanding. His Sharingan gleamed, and his lips curled into a knowing smirk.
"How are you feeling, old friend?"
Kakashi's lips parted, confusion laced in his voice. "Obito..? What are you—" A fist slammed into his stomach and pain exploded within his gut.
"Ugh—!" Kakashi coughed, his body jerking forward against the restraints. But Obito wasn't finished.
Another punch. Then another.
And another.
The hits came in brutal succession—pummeling his ribs, his face, his gut—leaving no space for air, no moment for reprieve. The force of the blows rattled his bones, pain flooding his senses with each brutal strike. Blood splattered across the walls.
His body sagged in the restraints, gasping, the edges of his vision darkening. His bruises deepened, the warmth of his own blood staining his torn clothes.
And then—it stopped.
Kakashi's breath shuddered. He forced his eyes open.
But Obito was gone.
Instead, Rin stood before him.
Her gentle smile remained unchanged—warm, sweet, almost nostalgic. But there was something off about it. Something unnatural.
She stepped forward, the soft click of her heels against the floor the only sound in the suffocating silence.
"You're so lucky," she whispered, tilting her head slightly.
Kakashi stiffened.
'Lucky?'
"The world is so unfair, isn't it?" Rin continued, her voice still light, almost teasing. "How is it that you got to live... while we died? While we suffered?"
Kakashi's breath caught in his throat. "No... Rin, I— cough—"
She raised a hand, pressing it against her chest. Kakashi's blood ran cold.
A gaping hole rested where her heart should have been. The wound he had given her.
His fault.
His failure.
"You did this," Rin murmured, her voice turning sharp. "To me."
Kakashi's throat tightened. "I—... I..."
But no words came.
His vision blurred, his mind screaming at him to move, to do something, but his body remained frozen in place.
And then—Rin's face melted away.
Her warm, bright expression twisted, dissolving into something horrific. A Chimermage.
Her soft features stretched into a monstrous, hollowed-out Grimm skull, jagged teeth curling into a grotesque sneer. Her eyes, once filled with light, were now empty pits of darkness.
Horror made of ooze, but before he could react, the creature lunged.
Wet, bony, clawed fingers wrapped around his throat as Kakashi choked. "No.. This isn't real.." Kakashi muttered. "You are not real!" He spat at the Chimermage.
The Chimermage's form changed into a different Grimm he didn't quite recognize.
It was Nightmare.
The damp hands turned into vines, tightening their grip on Kakashi's neck. As the vines engulfed Kakashi, his vision blurred once again. "No.." He muttered one last time before his vision cut to black.
The Nightmare laughed.
The sound was wrong—distorted, echoing, like dozens of voices speaking at once while the vines tightened.
Team RWBY and Ozpin — Dreamscape
A sudden rush of wind.
Then—light.
The world lurched violently, and in an instant, the five of them crashed onto solid ground. The impact sent a sharp jolt through their bodies, dust rising in soft clouds as they groaned from the landing.
Weiss was the first to stir, blinking against the blinding sunlight. Her gloved hands pressed against the dirt beneath her, a stark contrast to the familiar cool metal floors of Atlas. She scowled, brushing off her sleeves, but her frustration only grew when her fingers came away coated in dust.
"Ugh..." She muttered, shaking off the debris.
A muffled groan caught her attention. Turning her head, she spotted Professor Ozpin beside her, though something about him seemed... off. His hand was pressed against his forehead, his usually unreadable face contorted in mild discomfort, as if struggling to regain his bearings.
"Professor Ozpin?" Weiss asked, a hint of concern slipping into her voice.
Ozpin inhaled sharply, steadying himself before exhaling in a controlled manner. His posture straightened, and he lowered his hand, nodding slightly. Whatever had unsettled him, he quickly masked it beneath his usual composed demeanor.
They were here. Wherever here was.
"Where... are we?" Yang groaned as she pushed herself upright, shaking the dirt from her golden locks.
A warm breeze drifted past them, carrying with it the sounds of a bustling town—footsteps, idle chatter, distant laughter. The rhythmic creaking of wooden wheels, the occasional call of a vendor, the faint rustling of paper sliding against wood.
Blake's ears twitched as she quickly scanned their surroundings. Buildings of wood and paper, tiled rooftops sloping gently under the midday sun, red lanterns swaying from strings above the narrow streets. The roads beneath them weren't paved with stone or metal, but compacted dirt, smoothed over by countless passing feet.
This wasn't Remnant.
Blake's sharp eyes flicked toward a signpost ahead, its symbols unfamiliar yet oddly intricate. "This... isn't Atlas," she muttered, glancing at Weiss for confirmation.
Ruby was the last to fully sit up, rubbing her temples. "What just happened?"
The girls' eyes turned to Weiss, the only one among Team RWBY who knows Rinko more than the rest of them.
Except for Ozpin, of course.
But she looked just as bewildered.
"What kind of Nightmare is this?" Weiss muttered, brushing dust from her dress.
Ozpin, silent until now, took another measured glance around them. His piercing gaze followed the movement of the people weaving through the streets. They weren't alone.
Passersby walked past them, casting curious glances—some lingering with mild suspicion, others whispering in hushed tones.
Weiss sighed, placing a hand on her hip. "Wherever we are, it feels... primitive."
At her words, a man walking by scoffed audibly.
"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?" he muttered, shaking his head before continuing down the street.
Blake shot Weiss a disapproving look. "Maybe let's not insult the locals?"
Yang stretched her arms, rolling her shoulders. "Okay, but seriously, where are we?"
Ruby, standing slightly ahead of the group, suddenly went rigid. Her silver eyes widened, reflecting something massive in the distance.
"Guys..." she hesitated. "Look."
They followed her gaze.
Rising above the rooftops was an enormous stone monument.
Four colossal faces, chiseled into the mountainside, stood as silent sentinels overlooking the village below. Their expressions were resolute, each feature meticulously carved with precision and care.
Yang let out a low whistle, shading her eyes with a hand. "That's new."
Blake studied the faces, her golden eyes narrowing. Something about them felt strangely significant.
Ozpin, however, remained eerily still. His brows furrowed deeply, his expression unreadable. His gaze lingered on the mountain as if tracing an old memory buried within his mind.
Weiss turned to him, frowning. "Professor?"
Ozpin exhaled slowly.
"We're not just in Rinko's mind," he murmured.
They all turned to him in confusion.
"What do you mean?" Ruby asked, tilting her head.
Ozpin hesitated. This was not his place to explain. Whatever this world was, whatever this meant, it was for Rinko to reveal.
But if this information about his past helps Team RWBY get the full picture, then he will willingly share it with them, just to save Rinko's life.
If it came to that, then first, he'd have to confirm that they were indeed the Hidden Leaf Village.
"...Let's find him first," he said simply.
Without another word, he turned and began walking down the dirt road.
Team RWBY exchanged glances before following close behind.
The streets bustled with life as they moved through the unfamiliar town. People weaved past them, some casting curious glances at their strange attire.
"This place is too vivid to be just a dream," Blake murmured, observing the fine details of their surroundings. The scent of fresh ink and paper mixed with the crisp air, the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer ringing like a melody.
"If this is a Nightmare, then it's a lot more immersive than we expected," Yang muttered, adjusting her gauntlets as they continued down the dirt road.
Ozpin remained silent, his sharp gaze sweeping across the unfamiliar streets. Everything—the architecture, the language on the signboards, the scent of fresh parchment and sizzling food—felt real. Too real.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, something caught his attention.
A wooden sign that resembled old Mistralian language, slightly worn from years of exposure, swayed gently in the breeze. Painted in elegant calligraphy, it read:
Ichiraku Ramen.
(A/N: In the RWBY verse, Mistral is sorta considered as the asian equivalent of Remnant. Let's just say that Japanese signs here resembled old Mistralian language, and for Ozpin to live centuries, I think he could read it with no problem.)
Ozpin came to a halt, his expression momentarily unreadable.
Team RWBY stopped behind him, exchanging glances.
Weiss huffed impatiently. She could smell the food within the establishment. "Professor, this really isn't the time for food."
"I believe we should pause for a moment and gather information," Ozpin said, his tone measured as he stepped toward the entrance.
Blake frowned. "Do you think someone here knows what's going on?"
Ozpin didn't answer immediately, but something about the way his fingers briefly tightened against his cane suggested he suspected something.
"Perhaps," he finally said. Then, without another word, he pushed aside the noren curtains and stepped inside.
Team RWBY hesitated for a split second before sighing and following after him.
Inside, the scent of rich broth and sizzling pork filled the air. The small establishment was cozy, lined with wooden stools along a counter where a few customers sat, chatting idly between slurps of noodles. Behind the counter, an elderly man with a warm smile was stirring a steaming pot of broth, occasionally tossing glances toward a young girl—likely his daughter—who was cleaning dishes at the back.
Ozpin took a seat at the counter, resting his cane against his leg. Weiss, Blake, and Yang hesitated before reluctantly sitting beside him, while Ruby took the farthest seat, still looking around with wide eyes.
A young man turned to them, a friendly yet curious look on his face.
"Welcome to Ichiraku Ramen! You folks new in town?"
Ozpin offered a small smile. "Something like that."
The man chuckled, wiping his hands on a cloth. "Heh, don't see too many outsiders dressed like you lot. You must be from a far-off village."
Yang leaned forward slightly. "You could say that," she muttered, still not sure how much they should reveal.
Weiss, arms crossed, turned to Ozpin. "Professor, I still don't see how this helps us find Rinko."
Ozpin didn't respond immediately. Instead, he reached into his pocket, retrieving a small pouch. When he set it down on the counter, the soft clink of coins caught their attention.
Weiss raised an eyebrow. "You have money?"
Ozpin simply smiled as he did not answer her question.
The young man's eyes twinkled with amusement as he picked up the pouch, weighing it in his hand before flashing a small grin. "A full meal, then?"
Ozpin gave a courteous nod. "That would be appreciated. And perhaps, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask a few questions."
The man set to work, preparing the bowls with practiced ease. "Sure, ask away."
Ozpin laced his fingers together, his voice measured. "This village... What is it called?"
The old man behind the counter blinked, pausing for a moment before raising a bushy brow. "You don't even know where you are?"
Yang forced a laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "Heh. Long trip."
The man chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, you're in Konohagakure. The Village Hidden in the Leaves. Or in short, Konoha."
The name meant nothing to Team RWBY—just another unfamiliar place in an unfamiliar world. But Ozpin's expression remained unreadable, his mind already piecing together the truth.
This confirmed his hunch.
They were not just in another time.
They were in Kakashi's past.
A subtle tension settled over Ozpin like a cloak, his thoughts racing. If this was truly the world that had shaped Rinko Schnee—Kakashi Hatake—then what did that mean for them?
Was this merely a vision, a fragment of a time long gone?
Or had they stepped into something far more real?
He glanced at his companions. Yang, Weiss, Blake, and Ruby absorbed the new information without suspicion, unaware of the significance behind the name Konoha.
They remained blissfully ignorant of the footsteps they now walked in, of the weight this place held in Kakashi's—Rinko's—soul.
But Ozpin knew.
And now, more than ever, he needed to tread carefully.
[End]
ADVANCE CHAPTERS IN WATTPAD!