Diam let out a huff of air, contaminated with the stink of cigarette smoke, as he stared out at the endless streets of Vale. The lights from the surrounding houses made for a mesmerizing sight, probably the best thing about the hovel he was holed up in. The chair he sat in was rickety, and if he pressed his weight on it a tad too much, he would take a short trip to the floor— which considering the number of floorboards sticking up or straight missing— would be quite painful.
He had taken one look at the bed and decided he had better chances of survival by sticking to the chair. Diam doubted the place had ever had a clean in its entire life; the smell of sweat and human fluids told him all of that in spades. He hadn't even bothered to look too closely at several of the stains on the floors and walls; he wasn't sure if he wanted to figure out that particular mystery.
All told, the place was a dump, perhaps the worst 'hotel' he had ever stayed at in his entire life— yet there was one positive to the place.
No one asked any questions. Who, what, where, why— None of that mattered. If you had the lien to pay, you were welcome. The only thing he had gotten was a raised eyebrow, but that was because he was Human. The Faunus had watched him like a hawk when he had entered the shabby thing pretending to be a lobby, but once he pulled out the lien, those wandering eyes looked away.
Everyone had their reasons to hide; a Human wandering into this particular hole in the wall wasn't the worst offense he could commit. It was the perfect place to lie low while he waited for the hornet's nest he had kicked over to settle down. His 'slaughter' of 'innocent teenagers' was all over the news and had all of Vale in a frenzy. He was sure the news stations would feed on the fear for a few weeks before moving on to the next rotting carcass they would devour and spit out for the population of Vale to consume in a feeding frenzy.
He shook his head, the movement displacing the cigarette smoke that had lingered. He tried to rein in his philosophical side, mostly because it made him more depressed than normal, but that morning had stirred up memories he had continuously, with little success, tried to forget.
A bright day, the brutal heat of the summer, an impossible task, and the only possible result—
A field full of corpses. People he had called comrades and friends all lay out, staring into the bright sun. He wanted to join them, just another casualty of a senseless war, but something didn't let him. Something inside him had resisted the thought of simply giving up in that blood-stained dirt and joining his comrades in the Sun. A resolve, an intoxicating and listless thing that he couldn't ever remember having so much of.
He had feared that outcome since the war began, but after it had passed, he found his fear had morphed into a bead of pure loathing for himself. They had a name for it, like it gave people comfort in having it named and out there, instead of some ethereal thing one couldn't quite put their finger on.
He called it his price for continuing. Others called it Survivor's Guilt. Considering he had died that day along with the others, how could he call it that?
A gunshot startled him from his thoughts, and he dropped, moved his hand underneath his shirt, and grabbed his pistol. He rolled, tucking his legs under him as he did so, and flicked the safety off. He got into a crouched position and looked for where the shooter could have seen him—
No one was nearby. He didn't see any moonlight streaming through holes where a bullet might have entered. He stood up warily and approached the cracked window he had opened to let the smoke out. He heard shouting from down the street and peeked out.
A group of Faunus had bumped into a human wandering the streets. He had a moment of sympathy for the man because anyone wandering out as late as it was would run into trouble, especially in the slums. The man was arguing with one Faunus in particular, the one who had fired the shot; his flunkies stood behind, letting it all play out.
He couldn't see more than a basic outline since the streets didn't have much lighting, but he could see the second set of ears on top of his head. He was very broad-shouldered and was probably intimidating to any civilian.
A soldier, he decided. One of the many Faunus veterans cast onto the streets after their victory. He knew they had more opportunities in Menagerie, but he could read the dissatisfaction in the way many of them moved. They had fought for freedom, for equality, but what did they get?
A deserted island in the middle of nowhere, along with increased hatred and fear from those directly affected by the war, that racists could use to justify their bigotry. A lose-lose situation if he had ever seen one. He didn't care about their plight, which wasn't a slight against the Faunus; he simply lacked the energy most days.
He remembered the way he had acted around Jaune in their first encounter. It was rather out of character for him to be so passionate about saving a life when he had ended so many; perhaps the young man who yearned to save others still existed somewhere, buried deep in his soul.
It seemed so much more childish to him that he had even been intimidated by Jaune once he had gotten to know the man. Perhaps that was one of Jaune's greatest strengths, in that he hid himself quite well. His cane and friendly demeanor were his greatest assets in that regard.
Another gunshot echoed out, and Diam twitched but avoided a second dive. One false alarm was enough embarrassment for one day. He picked up the cigarette that had fallen out of his mouth and focused on the confrontation again. The Faunus held the firearm, waving and gesturing around fanatically, no doubt saying something passionately wrong about humanity. He focused on the human lying on the sidewalk; he was still. Diam fought the impulse to do something.
He actively fought them down, and practicality reared its ugly head. He was in no position to intervene; he had no allegiance to the now-victim, nor did he have a grudge with the Faunus. In addition, the entire reason he was there was to avoid stirring up any more trouble; inciting a race riot wasn't exactly the definition of stealth.
Once again, his apathy stormed inside him where a cold rage had once inhabited; that had died along with him on the fateful day. Perhaps he should have been angrier at the Faunus; they were the ones who had actively killed all of his friends and himself, yet he knew they were only trying to survive.
It helped that he had torn apart the ones who had killed them that day with his bare hands.
His mind shut down that line of thought and focused back to Jaune and the problem he had proposed: one of manpower. His foray into the criminal underbelly of Vale had yielded no results, yet he wasn't sure what other options they had. They needed a large body of willing workers who had some knowledge of mining and Dust usage. The SDC held a monopoly in that regard, and Diam had no funds to entice anyone towards them; they only had promises of future fortune, which not many would take on a nobody's word.
He eyed the Faunus again. The shooter was bragging to his companions; even if he couldn't hear, he could see by the way he moved his arms and slouched, probably about how terrible humans were or some nonsense. It incised him, yet there was not much he could do. It enraged him that this conflict had even started to begin with; Humans and Faunus both bled the same color, and the Grimm certainly didn't care about the distinction between the two.
The Faunus…
He crushed the cigarette in his hands as an idea came to him then, one so obvious in its simplicity that he wondered how none of them had thought of it before. The solution to their current lack of workers, plus the inevitability of scaling operations in the future, coupled with an opportunity to better the lives of thousands of people.
The smoldering apathy reared its ugly head again, and he nearly discarded the notion entirely. Something held him back, however. The idea of what Jaune was trying to achieve reminded him of something that Pip had told him near the end.
"It's never wrong to hope, y'know? Even if it's something most people would think was stupid or scoff at, believe what you want to believe, even if it's just the hope of returning to something."
It was probably the only time he had ever heard the smallest member of his squad sound so confident. He was normally much more reserved and soft-spoken, but in that one instance, he had changed into a completely different man.
"…Hope…." He muttered into the silent room.
Diam grabbed his scroll and hesitated. It was a foolish idea he had, something that Jaune might laugh him out the door for.
He dialed the number and waited.
"…Diam?" Jaune's groggy voice sounded from the Scroll. He had probably just woken him up.
"Hey, boss." Diam said, "I've got an idea on how to solve both our labor and security problems in one swoop."
There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. "…I'm listening," Jaune replied after a moment, sounding much more awake than he had before.
Diam cracked his neck. "It's a bit of a long shot, something that might backfire on us spectacularly, but it's worth trying for."
The words sounded hollow and ironic coming from him, but he continued with the conversation while Pip's words rang through his skull.
Hope..
Hello, I live.
Happy Easter to those who celebrate, and have a wonderful Sunday to everyone else. I have been sitting on this chapter for a long time, a bit afraid to post again. Mostly because I have chosen to re-characterize Diam because I didn't like how I had written him or his POV from the previous chapters. I apologize if there's any confusion related to that, but I felt it needed to be done.
Not sure if/when I'll post more. Consider this your once-a-year update for now.
Thank you everyone for the continued support. I do read every review, even if I don't respond.
Live well. Any Critiques or Comments are welcome.