Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

He couldn’t get any sleep.

Considering his problem as of recent was sleeping when he shouldn’t be, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise that his sleeping schedule was busted out of wack. But it was more than just that. Jaune rolled over on his bed, shoving the wrinkled blanket away from his restless tossing and turning to look out the window from their dorm.

The moon hung up there, a shattered pearl that stained pitch black with uncountable sparks of brilliant light.

Woah. Unexpected poetry there. Still, it did nothing for his current mood, and rather than toss and turn for the next hour, he shifted. Wiggling into a sitting position, Jaune propped his pillow up on his bed’s headrest in a standing position before dropping himself on it with a limp sigh. Laying there for the next five minutes ought to be a good start to getting a grip with the itch in his veins and the nervousness boiling in the boundaries of his mind.

It didn’t make any sense, was his initial reaction. What itch was there to scratch? What loomed over the horizon to make him feel such trepidation? Unfortunately for him, a second of thought was all it took to answer that latter question.

The maiden. Salem. And then, the Vytal festival. 

That last one was significant to him, sure! He did genuinely want to make a good showing of not just his team’s growth and effort, but his as well. Ozpin and Professor Goodwitch had been so gracious as to train his useless self, back in the start, that he just had to use, to show, it all somewhere. Even if it was in a tournament where people beat each other up on live CCT broadcasts.

But on the other hand, in comparison to the other two, the festival almost felt lesser. Trivial. What did winning a trophy for beating other people up mean when there was a dark inevitability drawing closer by the day? 

The looming conflict was ever closing. The way Ozpin spoke of the veritable Queen of All Evil made her out to be the unstoppable force that would upend everything he had ever known and loved. Like a storm on the horizon, its thunder echoing far but clear. 

He knew what was coming. But for the moment, it felt nebulous, distant. No – what was of more immediate concern was what the Queen’s pawns were planning. Finishing Amber once and for all to complete their Fall maiden powers. One quarter of the keys for relics that could end the world.

Jaune had not been happy when Ozpin answered the question of just what Salem was going to do once she had all the maidens and, by proxy, the relics.

Ozpin managed the logistics of an entire huntsman academy and coordinated with the rest of the headmaster and who else to prepare the kingdoms. Professor Goodwitch, though not having an impact so large, reinforced within the next generation of huntsmen and huntresses the skills necessary to survive with an iron hand of discipline and care. Mr. Ironwood, the freaking headmaster and General of Atlas, brought a whole army to their front door.

Which was kinda cool!

That just begged the question…

What was he, Jaune Arc, doing?

Another sigh slipped out. Ragged, with a tiredness that went beyond the need for sleep. If he asked Ozpin, Jaune knew the man would probably say something along the lines of “This is an adult thing. You students should still enjoy your time blah blah blah until you’re all ready. Blah blah blah”. Sure, Jaune was a bit of an outlier considering he had a relic as a family heirloom sword and thus had to be under special watch by the headmaster, but shouldn’t that have amounted to something?

He’d never badmouth the headmaster. Never. Especially after all the man had given him in opportunities aplenty to achieve his dreams. This was more than Jaune could ever have dreamed to have when he had received the notice of acceptance on the grounds of fraudulent transcripts. Training was one thing – he had expected that from a combat academy – and although he was out of his league coming to Beacon with zero training to begin with, getting private tutelage from the headmaster and his deputy themselves was a fantasy bordering on delusion.

Then initiation happened, and the rest was history.

So with all of that training from the best of the best of the best, the teammates he earned the trust and respect from, the friends he’d come to cherish – where did that amount to?

What did he contribute in this fight?

All the adults were out there arming the people with knowledge and power. Then there was Jaune, Jaune-ing.

Sick of the thought – of the toil that plunged into his chest with a cold splash – he flipped himself over, bringing the pillow back down properly and shoving his face fitfully into its cotton. He made another helpless sound of distress, and was all too happy that the pillow was there to muffle the anxiety, lest he wake his teammates in the dead of night.

What had he done with all of Ozpin’s vaunted training? Goof around in school, summon explosions, used a divine weapon to clean up trash, and run into some terrorists before blowing up the docks. That night especially still gave him the shivers. All in all, not that much.

Jaune could have walked into Beacon with a regular, store-bought sword, and nothing would have changed. Nothing, except for the fact that he’d have been dogwater at defending himself without the grueling regime Ozpin had him on from the start.

That was the worst part. The one that sealed the deal and gave all the restlessness and anxiety and shame in his gut a title.

He did nothing.

The knowledge burned. Jaune gripped the pillow, digging his nails into it, feeling for anything that wasn’t that.

What was he here for, then? To just wait until that big bad arrived? To train and study just for the sake of it all? 

He wanted to be a huntsman, yes, but would there even be the time for that?

What would the attack on Amber look like when the day finally arrived? Would it be quiet, with a trail of blood in the dead of night, footsteps in the form of unmoving bodies leading to the wake of a good woman’s remains? Or would it be loud, with screams and hellfire raining from above as the world’s climax of unity and peace was torn apart by greed and lust for power?

Who would be there to see it all? Him, the teachers, his friends, and Remnant? Would they even make it to the end? Would the madmen and women think to themselves that it would be easier to attain their goal with certain obstacles out of the way? What of a little chaos, or death?

What would they think if they ever found out he held the Relic of Destruction in the palms of his hands?

His friends would die before he did. Jaune loathed and mourned the fact that they’d die protecting him.

After months of their friendship and banter and quiet and sincerity, he knew that would be the case.

Because he too would give his life for them.

The gravity of those words fell upon him like a boulder directly on his spine. Months ago, he could never have imagined uttering such things. Like Salem, it had felt far away. A distant ideal that came part and parcel with being a huntsman. Giving our all for the defense of mankind and if necessary, our lives to protect the innocent. They were just words on paper. Words that made the stories and fairy tales even shinier and wonderful and heroic.

Now there came no wonder from saying such things. It did not evoke any sense of heroism, nor admiration or awe. Just responsibility.

This couldn’t go on. He had to do something. If not for himself, then for his team – his friends. Pyrrha, Nora, Ren. Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang. They’ve all stuck up for him one way or another since he came walking up a raggedy mess from initiation. They could have ignored him. They could have gone on with their lives without paying much mind to the dunce who kept losing fight after fight and only won because he tickled his opponent. 

But for all that had been given onto him – the friendship and bonds, the training and tutelage – Jaune had to do something to pay back all of that support.

The burning fire wavered. Not put out, but shifting. Redirecting. It fanned the flame of a new weight in his chest – a dull rock of resolve that would be tested by what was to come. It would face down the pressure and become all the stronger, or die trying.

Peace was a lot easier to savor if he could pretend it wasn’t so brittle.

- / - / -

In a last-ditch effort to glean a smidgen of information from the tail-end of Prof- Doctor Oobleck’s high-speed rambling, Weiss experimentally tested a time-dilation glyph on herself while taking down notes.

It went about as well as expected. Which, knowing she was now a member of the sometimes-rambunctious Team RWBY, meant it went horribly sideways. At least four sentences had been taken to note and compartmentalized before things started getting out of hand. In the space of perception-boosted time between the seconds, Weiss could only contemplate what went so wrong.

Time dilation was an ability she used in wide strokes during battle, in order to boost both perception and movement speed by a higher factor. In the heat of a fight, such an ability played right could be the hook that turned the tides, or secured the tempo for a dominating finish entirely. It was the type of card to be played when the advantage was most opportune, with a plethora of applications both offensive and defensive that required such a boost.

Suffice to say, it was a very strong card.

But there was a drawback – as ever, to balance yet another facet of an already versatile semblance. 

Time dilation made the world slower by making her faster. Faster thought, faster reaction, faster everything. Sword slashes screamed in the very air, borne from movement that could whip currents of wind like a passing storm. A mere stomp could crater the ground.

Which lies the exact root of her dilemma.

The environment.

Weiss contemplated all of this in the world of dilated perception as the crisp page of her notebook and the lead of her pencil ground together in blitzing speed before both vaporized to dust. She cut off aura to her semblance immediately.

Even in the fading linger of time-dilation, she witnessed the remains of the page she’d been writing explode into confetti unto her oblivious partner – silver eyes just on the precipice of widening in shock. The lead of her pencil flew elsewhere, bouncing on the wall before a minute splinter ricocheted to a light fixture above their history teacher.

I’m doomed, she lamented to herself with an air of resignation. Dead to rights.

By divine fortune, the splinter only left a dent before breaking off to nothing with a light tap on the lightbulb. It was one on the end of a long wire, and so shook in response.

Doctor Oobleck paused in his explanation of the bicameral legislative process of the Mistralian Confederate Court to glance upwards. His beady eyes went up and so did multiple students follow his eyesight to gaze at the precariously rocking fixture.

Weiss waited for the other shoe to drop.

He hummed for a moment before shrugging when nothing happened, and proceeded back to the lecture.

She released a sigh.

Which was exactly when the bell rang. The doctor hollered to all of them, “Don’t forget to read up for the quiz this weekend! I want you all in tip-top smarts or we might have to repeat a lecture.”

All the Beacon students present shivered as they packed their things. The transfer students shared furtive looks, curious at what invoked such a reaction. They wouldn’t understand. They didn’t have the experience – nay, trauma – of being on the receiving end of a disgruntled Doctor Oobleck when he finds out someone was lacking in certain areas of the subject matter.

Meanwhile, Yang was patting the back of her younger sister with the force of a curb stomp. The girl spat out bits of paper with every blow. “Rubes, what happened?”

“I- ack! I’unno…” Ruby rubbed her throat with a hand and looked around. “I was doodling in my notebook before suddenly a bunch of confetti went on my face. A-“ she coughed again, “And into my throat…”

A sudden bolt of guilt struck through. Weiss opened her mouth, mustering an apology at the tip of her lips-

“What’s up, Weiss? Today’s kinda – nice. Do you and the thrice wanna go out to the deli with some – rice? Maybe with some ice tea and candy lico – rice. ‘Cause ice, ice is nice.”

Weiss packed her things, stood up, and walked away. “Come along, team. It wouldn’t do for us to be tardy to next class.”

“Huh?” Yang got no response before her sister shrugged and went to follow. “Ah well. Sure.”

The ashen-haired girl paid no mind to the pathetic whimper at the back. She paid no mind to the irrational thread of guilt at that as well but what was she supposed to do about someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer!? Yang made an inane “ice queen” remark, and now more than ever Weiss had to give thanks to her self-control in not biting back something scathing at the blonde.

“That’s just cold.”

“Queen of ice, my friend.”

“Not a real one.”

“Not one for the sect. Like ice – too rigid.”

Screw self-control. Weiss rounded back on these ne’er do-wells. “Do you have something to say?”

They shut up, glancing away with all the subtlety of a hand grenade.

She turned her nose up at them. “That’s what I thought.”

“You wouldn’t understand, Schnee,” muttered the brute Cardin Winchester. Weirdly enough, that adjective sort of fell into a questionable state as of recent. He’d stopped being a racist jock sometime after Forever Fall, and instead would snoop on off to wherever he went to when classes ended. Weird.

Weiss turned her attention to him.

He passed her by with a distant and shadowed look about him, not once glancing her way. “It’s not for feeble minds, I’m afraid. The sect takes care of its prophet. I only ask that you not tarnish it so.”

She… had no idea what to say to that. Without pause the distance stretched before she could even formulate a response and he was already far gone.

“What is that supposed to mean…?”

“Amen.”

“Amen.”

“Amen.”

She whipped back to the crowd of bystanders, blue-eyes wide with incredulity as they passed by echoing the same word, nodding along solemnly as if in a hive mind.

“What-“ her voice cracked, taking a pitch that mirrored her mood, “-is going on with you all?”

No response. They ignored her as uncaring water to the rocks in a stream. Not even one glance as they pretended she didn’t exist.

“Is this place crazy!?”

“Weiss!” Blake called. “Come on, we’re gonna be late. Ruby and Yang went ahead just in case Professor Goodwitch asks.”

“A-A- It-“ Weiss growled, giving up and stomping after her team. “It’s nothing! Nothing, you hear me!?”

“Uh, yeah?” That cattish teammate spared only a sidelong glance before walking off. “Sure…”

The nerve of her. She better be grateful for the assistance she’s getting for investigating Torchwick and the White Fang this weekend.

- / - / -

Jaune shot Ren a look of utter betrayal as the pink-eyed teen patted his back. “You said that would work.”

“I said that it might be better for you to try an alternative approach to befriending her. Like, I don’t know, being her friend rather than a prospective date.”

“That was exactly what I did.”

Ren leaned back. “That was not what I saw.”

“It is,” Jaune insisted. “It was me going out of my way to invite Weiss and her team out to lunch with us at that new deli place down in Vale. And then to taste the sweet licorice I know gets sold at another place nearby!” He motioned with his hands. “All packaged in the elegantly crafted form of rhymes for good times.”

Ren nodded blankly at his motioning. “Sure…”

The nerve of this guy. Jaune sighed, slumping, and just as he registered the rest of his teammates closing in response to his misery, he straightened up like a zap to a lightning rod.

He pointed the tippy-top of his finger above and beyond, voice taking on a theatrical effect to sell the bit. “However! I will not let this get me down!”

Pyrrha smiled, opening her mouth-

“Because I have plans, my friends. What’s say we go out for a little team bonding exercise down in Vale after classes?”

Pyrrha and Ren blinked.

“Ooh,” Nora crooned. “What for?”

Jaune snapped his fingers and pointed a finger-gun at her. “That, my dearest teammate, is what I’ll be getting into as we get there.” He looked to his teammates, letting the mood seep into each and every one of them. “It’s of utmost importance. Not just for us, but for potentially all of Vale.”

“A conspiracy is afoot, and I can smell it a mile away. So please,” Hands clasped together in prayer, “may I request for your assistance?”

A beat, and then they smiled.

“Sure!” Nora pumped an arm. “I’ve been itching to blow something up.”

“I hope we don’t blow something up,” Ren automatically replied. He nodded toward Jaune. “Let’s see what’s up.”

Pyrrha covered a chuckle behind her hand. “Alright. I don’t mind. What do you have in mind?”

- / - / -

Jaune slumped over a bench in the park and sighed. “Okay that didn’t work.”

Pyrrha hummed sympathetically. “I guess the police wouldn’t give classified details on ongoing investigations into active cases like Roman Torchwick and the White Fang just because we asked politely.”

He eyed her from the side, probing for any ounce of pity on her. She came out in an outfit a lot more casual than they’ve ever seen her, compared to the rest of the team who came in their usual. A pale-yellow zip-up jacket and black trainers. Understanding the sentiment of not wanting to stand out for her celebrity status in public, Jaune personally thought she looked rather fashionable. Heck, maybe kind of pretty. She completed the set with a light-blue scarf that complimented her hair, to cover up the bottom of her face, and then a regular cap and shades dark enough to conceal her emerald eyes from a distance.

After a long moment of intently staring at her expression, he found only authentic feeling and sighed. It should have surprised him that she patted his back over that reaction.

Coming down to Vale with a head full of ideas and half a plan looked a lot more stylish in, you know, his head. Running off the knowledge of Salem’s agent in the thick of things wasn’t quite enough when he didn’t quite know how to link the current going-ons with anything related to them. Where would he start in finding out what was and wasn’t the product of their evil machinations?

To tell the truth, he didn’t have much of a clue. Playing videogames was where he knew he was a step above his entire team, but even having played the odd detective simulator, it turned out that it didn’t exactly translate to real-life experience. Or at least not a one-to-one.

Ooh, how convenient that would have been!

But one thing he took note of when he got frustrated with clicking on everything on the screen and hoping something would budge, was to go back to the basics. Back to the very foundation of the best way to solve the murder mystery. Step one: what did he know? If he ran back everything in his head from now to the past, the only odd thing that didn’t have anything to do with divine relics was him and his friends accidentally blowing up the docks. Minus that fiasco, one thing to note was the very apparent piece of detail that Blake had been trying to verify.

Roman and the White Fang.

They weren’t able to get much out of her, but from what she shared to non-team members and what he saw, it didn’t seem like either party was fond of the other. From Blake’s retelling, Roman was actively calling them animals, and they scoffed and bit back their own remarks while doing what was told.

That begged the question: why did two parties who didn’t like one another start working together?

When he shared this with the team, Ren came up with a guess that gave much more insight. Rather than saying two parties that didn’t like one another, it could be stated as two parties who had no reason to be working with one another. Roman was a very human and a very racist thief. One who usually went solo, at least from what he’d read. The White Fang was a faunus only terrorist group who hated humans with a passion. Both of these groups were literally fire and water, so their alliance was undoubtedly off-putting.

That was why they were currently sitting at the park, just across the Vale Police Department headquarters. His first and only idea had been to ask around the authorities and present their case. Upon receiving confirmation that they both deduced the same from the students’ conclusion and had active investigations into it, JNPR had been asked to politely leave the moment they started insisting for the details. It wasn’t the first time the police had to deal with snoopy huntsmen teams going out of their way to bust crime under everyone’s noses, the receptionist said. 

They’d also been told to refrain from attempted vigilante efforts before leaving.

Jaune was very, very sorry for the receptionist, who had a mix of pleading and resignation on her face when she said that.

The other two members of the team sat at a bench just across the path they were on – Ren reading deeply into his scroll with Nora beside him. Nora, who had been content to stare at the ducks in a pond, faced them. “So what now?”

Jaune’s chin landed on a palm. “That’s the problem.”

“Well, at least we got confirmation that the police were doing something about it,” Pyrrha placated, attempting a smile. “Doesn’t that mean it’s in good hands?”

“Well, yeah, but…” Jaune’s gaze fell to the ground. It would be in good hands, if it were not for the fact that he had a good feeling whoever Salem appointed to break into an academy and finish off a maiden would probably be a good head over what the police could handle. It was a stretch, but it was the only thing he could come up with to connect the weird cooperation between those two groups. It was only a gut feeling, but this just had an evil queen’s mitts all over it.

He couldn’t say that, though. If he did, it would lead from one thing to another, until he’d truly be breaching the bounds of the trust Ozpin extended towards him.

This was his only lead. His only real way to even help Ozpin in the upcoming conflict. If he couldn’t do anything with this, then he’d have to carry the weight of shame for having tried and failed to do something of significance.

It felt like his family’s pitiful eyes whenever he proclaimed his huntsman aspirations all over again.

“But…” he tried again. Although Ren was steeped into his scroll, both girls perked up at the new note underlying his tone. He levelled his most serious demeanor as he met their eyes. “This can’t be it, right? Somewhere out there, a completely weird alliance is stealing a whole bunch of dust for who-knows-what, and what are we doing – sitting on our butts and waiting for them to solve all the problems?”

Pyrrha shifted in her seat. “Well, we’re not exactly equipped for these types of operations.”

“Maybe. But aren’t we huntsmen? Aren’t we supposed to protect those who can’t protect themselves, do good, and stop the bad guys when we see them? This…” Jaune gestured helplessly before him with both hands, “situation is super weird. Not to mention super wrong! It might not seem like a big deal, but I have a gut feeling that just standing by and waiting for the cops to take care of everything is going to bite us in the butts.”

He pointed. Cyan eyes widened at the finger aimed her way. “Nora! If you were evil and had a ton of dust, what would you do?”

“Hah? Uh,” she placed a finger below her chin, “I’d build a bomb. A really big bomb.”

Pyrrha raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Well, yeah! Not to say that I’m evil – because I’m a hundred percent not – but if I were, I’d make a bomb.” 

At their gazes, it was now the ginger’s turn to raise a brow. “What? You asked the explosives expert what she’d do with a ton of dust. Why are you surprised when she answers with more explosives?”

“A big bomb, huh.” Jaune wracked his brain for the plausibility of it. Off the top of his head, he thought they’d sell all that dust for money, but somehow, they haven’t been content with months’ worth of dust heists. That was about it. “I guess that works. But if that’s the case, then where would they set it off?”

“I don’t know. Maybe somewhere where everyone can see it?” Nora shivered, cupping her elbows. “Or where the most can be affected. I don’t want to think about it, but if they’re despicable, then maybe we should consider the possibilities that give me the most shivers.”

“Yeah!” He nodded. With her suggestion to think about the ways they could use all that dust in the form of shivers, plenty of ideas started churning in his head. He was getting shivers already. “They’ve been at this for months. Stealing dust after dust after dust. And you know what needs dust?”

He cut it there, letting the question linger in the air and the implications to build themselves.

“Everything,” Pyrrha answered with a frown. Troubled emeralds looked about – to the lamp posts that would shine bright at night, the cars throttling down the road with noisy engines, the buildings with a myriad of inner workings that functioned on the same fuel. “Heating, transportation, infrastructure. Not to mention our ammunition primarily runs on it. Because of what they’ve done, prices across the market are skyrocketing, and a lot of people have stopped using elemental rounds in spars.”

That piece of information sent a metaphysical blow right to Jaune’s wallet. He would never be grateful enough for Pyrrha gifting him that kit of dust.

“See?” He nudged his partner on the shoulder, gaining her attention to see her anxious frown. “I don’t know about you, but this has all the signs of a kingdom-wide conspiracy. And no, not the kind you post online.” Pyrrha blushed at that, face heating up beneath the scarf. 

Again, cute. But back to the matter at hand.

“Whatever they’re doing – whatever they’re planning – is definitely, absolutely, bad. In Remnant: The Game, one of the best times to stage a siege is when the target’s self-supporting draw activates while you’ve allocated all resources to an offensive push.”

Jaune took on a lecturing tone. “The support play essentially eats up the next two turns to grant a boost in stats – especially defensive – in the short period, in order to push through upgrades, expansions, or attacks, in exchange for a vulnerable period after its effects wear off. That’s why the Kingdom Revelry card is taken as a glass cannon – since you have to take into account what will happen after the stat boost ends, so you don’t get ganged on by everyone. You need to get rid of the threats while the kingdom is focused on its own expansion and celebration.”

Pyrrha blinked.

“What…?”

He, too, in a move of brilliance, blinked. “O- Oh! Aheh, right. You don’t play.” The hair above his nape tussled as he scratched it. “Basically, in a time of peace, huge celebrations are prime time for attacks. With the bad guys hoarding dust for something big, and the Vytal Festival just around the corner, do you get what I’m saying?”

“I do, now that you’ve explained it in a way I understand.” She giggled when he blushed and looked away. She continued in all seriousness, “But I get it. Something terrible is afoot, and when enemies are building so much fighting force in the kingdom when the biggest celebration of unity and peace is approaching, it usually means something big is going to happen.”

Jaune nodded solemnly before smiling. For some odd reason, Pyrrha stared a little long at his face, before turning away with a soft smile of her own. Huh?

“Aww.”

Pyrrha rounded on the girl with a sudden fluster. “Nora!”

“Nothing!” Nora waved them off and chuckled when Jaune sent her a questioning look. “I get where you’re coming from too, Jaune-Jaune, but that still brings us back to the question of what we’re gonna do from here on out.”

He hummed, looking down at the ground and adopting a pose of deep rumination. To tell the truth, he still had no idea. So far, neither girl had a clue as they pondered in the park. Placing a hand on his sword’s hilt produced no answers either. Only a “Why are you asking me? I don’t particularly care for your squabbles” from Hrundr.

They fell into a lull of silence, humming, looking idly, thoughts passing through the eyes, but nothing solid to land on.

“I have an idea.”

Every eye snapped toward Ren, who finally looked up from his scroll.

“You do?” Jaune asked.

A nod. “Yeah.” Waving his scroll, Nora nudged closer to see the screen while Jaune and Pyrrha bodily walked over and stood behind. “From old news reports from Mistral, the White Fang tends to hold recruitment rallies in dead spots of the kingdoms. The general areas include industrial sectors, where a lot of economic traffic tends to pass by, or off the fringes of kingdom territory – all of which were included in raids to bust and arrest them. If we apply that here, there might be such a rally happening somewhere in the quiet spots of Vale.”

“Where do we even begin to find one, Renny?”

“That, I’m not sure of. We don’t know whether or not a rally has already happened and thus, making the venture pointless for us to scout, nor do we know how to get information on one.”

“Is that not still a rally for a faunus-only group? Surely, there might be channels of communication private to the faunus here in Vale to inform them of the event.”

“Hmm.” Jaune rubbed his chin, feeling not only a brimmer of hope bubble up, but the flickering shape of an idea. “If I know one thing from the X-Ray and Vav series-“

“Jaune, please do not use that as your knowledge base.”

“-it’s that criminals have an unhealthy relationship with warehouses in the dead of night. Think about it. Big, wide, plenty of space inside to fit a hundred people, and plenty of open space outside to spot anyone coming.”

“Hey… That makes perfect sense!”

“Yup.” He nodded. “And I think I know a guy who could help us…”

- / - / -

“So you need my help in getting info on the White Fang?”

“Mmm…” Jaune didn’t confirm anything, simply shifting his hands on his hips in his best image of nonchalance. “Maybe.”

Sun stared at him for ten seconds before grinning and shaking his head. “Yeah, you’re gonna wanna work on your poker act if you’re gonna to try and ask someone for help. ‘Specially when you’re not sure if they’ll agree or not.”

The Arc’s shoulders slumped. “Is that a no?”

“Nope.” Sun popped the ‘p’.

“So… You’re not gonna help?”

“Huh? No. I mean I’m gonna help.” If anything, his grin grew even wider. “It sounds like you all are going blindfolded headfirst into a den of snakes. Might as well be the upstanding foreign transfer student I am and make sure you and your team know what you’re doing. Besides – it sounds fun!”

“Wow, uh, thanks! We really appreciate it.” Jaune stepped back from the tree they both leant on to look back at the main facilities of Beacon in the distance. They were in a secluded spot where the pathways were visible, so they could monitor their voices for the private conversation. “I thought you’d be hounding Blake for a chance at this.”

“And you’d be right. I absolutely would.” Sun shrugged, completely owning up to the fact. “But she doesn’t exactly look like she’s in the best mood for… erhm, shenanigans.”

“Mm. It’s one of the reasons I asked you instead of her. She looked a little stressed.”

“That’s definitely one to put a damper. But look on the bright side!” In a blur of motion, he wrapped an arm around Jaune’s shoulders and motioned to the sky. “You’ve asked, and I’ve answered. And now you have one Sun Wukong and a Neptune Vasilias to aid in your crusade of justice.”

“Are you really sure you want to involve Neptune in this? I don’t know about bringing even more of our friends.”

“Cheer up. It’s always better to involve friends.”

Somehow, the absolute confidence in Sun’s tone told Jaune everything he needed to know in a single sentence. 

This guy was nuts.

But he was the right kind of nuts for the job. Go figure!

“Don’t worry. I’ll help in the info gathering and show you the ropes of how to get your ears in the ground. Or at least, where to look. Though,” For the first time in the conversation, the faunus took on a contemplative tone, “I wonder why you’re asking me when you could sniff them out with your magic abilities.”

“Uh,” Jaune deadpanned, shoulders dropping completely, “I’m not a wizard.”

“Sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“Then what’s this I hear about summoning an explosion large enough to level the docks?”

“Ack!” That was Penny! Jaune felt bad enough about the damage, but doubly so at what might have befallen the girl from her guardians. She must have been chewed out hard. “Stray shot. Plenty guns firing and everything was a mess. You know – that happens sometimes.”

“You sometimes cause enough damage to total fifty-million lien worth of dust?”

“Hey…”

“’Cause that’s awesome!”

Jaune leaned back and stared.

“Okay, well, not the millions of lien part, but summoning a frickin megasplosion. That’s practically on every teenage guys’ bucket list at some point in their life.”

The leader of JNPR looked aside cringing. “If Ozpin hadn’t covered the bill…”

Sun’s lips pinched. “Yeah, you’d have been indebted for life.” He shrugged. “All’s well that ends well.”

“All’s well that ends well…”

“Eyup.” One, two, three nods. “Back on topic, I’ll help ya, and show you the ropes on how to keep your ears to the ground.”

Jaune thanked the guy and carried on with a little bit more small talk before bidding him farewell. He’d meet up later with them tomorrow, when there was some time after lunch before classes, and then the following evening to hit up a few places of general interest to the faunus community. Bars, inns, shops – places that at the surface looked normal but had a few telltale signs of serving deeper purposes. Not only would they be shown places to get information, but also how to identify them. Street smarts, Sun vaguely replied when Jaune asked.

“What did he say?” Pyrrha asked at his approach. She, Nora and Ren had been content to watch the proceedings at a distance to provide privacy for the two team leaders.

Jaune gave them all a hearty thumbs up. “He’s up.”

“Hooray!” Nora whooped, choking Ren by wrapping her arms around his neck and using him as a jungle gym. “I’m so looking forward to kicking butt!”

“Ack- Aaaggck! Nora!”

“Nora, I think you’re choking him,” Pyrrha pointed out with a smile, but was pointedly not scraping the girl off. The other girl pouted.

“He’ll be fine.” Jaune waved it off, earning another whoop from Nora and a pink-eyed glare of utter betrayal. It was hard not to show his smugness. Now they were even. Addressing his partner, he said, “Sun’s up for a few days at most, but he’ll show us where to look on our own.”

She nodded. “That’s good.”

- / - / -

Despite having a lead, it still took a couple of days of searching just to make a breakthrough. Most of that time had been spent in classes, before later following Sun on where he deduced might be hotspots for certain topics to fly under the radar by word of mouth. Faunus-owned establishments just shy off the main roads went first, where Sun went to create small talk, before sooner probing into White Fang adjacent territory.

For the sake of his cover, Sun had to dress up to look not like a huntsman snooping for crime, nor could he bring any of JNPR with him to those places – seeing as none of them were faunus. Instead, he had his scroll in his pocket on call, so that the rest of the team, somewhere a few buildings down, could listen in. The small convenience outlet had only two employees at the time – both faunus, of course – to whom they surveyed traded complicated glances at a human customer leaving. The group of teens listened in on their conversation as Sun walked up with a bag of chips and slowly built rapport with the cashier before pointing out a terrorist group as though one would the weather.

“I was there, minding my own business with my buddy Nep – great guy by the way – when a frickin huge gigasplosion knocked us down. That happen a lot ‘round these parts?”

“No. Shit. Definitely not.”

“Grn. Seems dangerous. I dunno about taking my nightly walks to cool the head off anymore. What if I get caught in an attack? You feel me?”

“I mean, yeah. They’ve been around for who knows how long. Some say it’s months, when dust heists began to skyrocket. Don’t hear this from me; but sometimes, it feels like shit’s being done about them. Oddly enough, they spend more time policing the regular faunus for being near a crime scene just as much.”

“No way. That can’t be. Treatment’s bad enough for us faunus in Mistral. Thought Vale’s better.”

“Vale’s nice. Better? Yeah – by technicality.”

“Damn it. Gah… I hate that feeling. Not knowing things and just being in the middle anyways.”

“Feels like you don’t got control?”

Sun snapped his fingers. “Yeah, that. I just- I just wonder if I can keep my friends safe.”

A long moment, where only the ambience and idle ruffle of movement reached the muffled scroll.

“Would you like to?”

“Well, yeah?”

“Hm. Might know a guy, or in the loosest sense a friend, who could help.”

“This isn’t some pyramid scheme or anything, is it?”

“No. From one faunus to another, he gets talked to by a lot in our community facing ill-treatment. Good with advice, too. Better than me.”

“Uhuh. Cool…

From there, the team plus Sun (though mostly Sun) went on a spree of chatting up links of people that slowly edged to actually knowing something. They went from the convenience store, to a local gym manager, to a baker’s brother. It was an endeavor spanning all the way to the weekend, where Sun usually led some conversations while some members of JNPR (and then later joined by Neptune) tried their hand with a little makeup and well-placed accessories to play off as faunus. 

As expected, Jaune was pretty rough around the edges, but his willingness and Sun’s guidance helped him get good at talking things out with people in disguise.

At last, they had a concrete trail in the form of a White Fang rally on the eve of the weekend.

It was one aimed at the recruitment of disgruntled faunus from Vale, as well as a “showing of strength” on their part. Whatever that meant, it was certainly no good if a terrorist organization was showing any strength that might put more people in harm's way.

That was what led Jaune, his team, plus Sun and Neptune tucked in an alleyway a block’s worth of buildings across the meeting point that night.

Tapping away at his scroll to set some communications between the group up, he looked toward his team with a ready gaze. “Everybody know their roles?”

“Yup!” Nora nodded enthusiastically. She, along with him, wore casual-adjacent clothing in order not to stand out as huntsmen-in-training. On top of that, a sheathed sword was less liable to draw alarm than a strapped grenade launcher, and so she had to hand off Magnhild to Pyrrha. Sporting a closed dark-blue jacket, with a white shirt peeking beneath and finishing off the ensemble with her usual pink skirt, the ginger pointed off with each finger, “You, I, and Sun enter through the front gate posing as faunus, listen in on their plans, while Pyrrha, Ren, and Neptune station at high points over entrances at the perimeter.”

“Considering the amount of faunus we saw enter over the hour, we should be able to blend in.” Jaune’s mood immediately plummeted as he gave a scathing sweep on his team with his eyes alone. “Especially the blending in part. I can’t believe you guys, by the way.”

“What?” Pyrrha stifled a laugh behind a fist. She failed spectacularly. “It only makes sense.”

“Makes sense my butt. You guys turned me into a fish!”

In comparison to Nora, and practically the rest of his team, Jaune didn’t need as drastic a wardrobe change at all to play off as a civilian. Really, all he entered Beacon with was a jacket, jeans, his sneakers, and the straps of inherited armor from his family. If he took the latter off, blending in was a cinch.

The Pumpkin Pete rabbit logo on the front definitely helped in disarming people, too. After all, who would wanna punch that cute little bunny-rabbit? Hopefully not the big bad terrorist people.

What Jaune’s current problem and latest regret was the fact that he let his team pick what faunus he’d be disguising as. Clad in his signature getup, albeit without the armor, he wore a balaclava, but under it…

“Can you take it off?” Ren asked steadily. If Jaune looked a little closer, he swore the teen’s lips were twitching. “Just to make sure the disguise sticks.”

The Arc surveyed the rest of his team.

Pyrrha smiled innocently, nodding.

Nora didn’t bother hiding her shit-eating grin.

Ah, a majority vote. Jaune sighed and pinched the hem of his balaclava. Democracy sucks.

Lifting it up, the Arc revealed the masterclass of a faunus disguise, worked on by his very own partner from her PR experience in the beautification areas. In some ways, it could legitimately be presented as a work of art.

Right now, however, Jaune loathed the weight and feel of copious amounts of makeup, eyeliner, foundation, and whatever Pyrrha dabbed on, to make him look like an astounding shark faunus. She’d somehow managed to paint on authentic-looking gills just above his neckline, heavily emphasize his cheekbones with a dark strike of blue, glossed his lips much the same shade, and recolored everything above the neck.

Frowning as he was, Jaune looked like a spirit of the deep with puckered lips and haunting eyebags.

The team burst out laughing.

“Yeah-yeah,” he groaned, “laugh it up.”

“Ahaha- Sure!” Nora pounded on the brick wall, the other hand taking another scandalous photo of Jaune. “Wahaha-!”

Ren hunched over his knees as he laughed. “Now, you and Felipe can match as aquatic faunus cousins.”

“Our team’s almost half shark faunus!” Pyrrha gasped between a chortle. “I can picture Yang saying something like; “we’re swimming with the fishes”.

If anything, that made them laugh harder.

“Hey-hey-hey, pipe down guys. You might wake the neighborhood.”

“Yeah,” Sun said, suddenly appearing with a barely restrained grin of grins. “Pipe down or you might really be swimming with the fishes.”

“Dude…” Neptune added, cheeks absolutely stretched. “It’s even better in person.”

Jaune endured another burst of fun at his expense to glare at the dynamic duo. “Not you too.”

“Hey man. You gotta commit to the bit – even if it’s being a small fish in a big pond.” Sun let himself a quick laugh before waving it off, smile still plastered but voice smoothening out to something more serious. “We’re back. Coast is clear and it’s almost time.”

“Alright.” Jaune nodded. At the implication of what the faunus said, the lighter air dissolved as the weight of what was about to happen settled in. “Sun, you’re with me and Nora. Pyrrha, Ren, get to your spots. Keep your scrolls ready at all times.”

“Worry not,” Sun replied easily Neptune motioned his silent agreement. “We know our jobs here.”

Ren nodded toward him. “Stay safe.”

Pyrrha followed. “Stay safe, you all.”

“Mhm. Look out for each other.”

“We will!” An aura-powered hop, skip, and jump later, and then they were gone.

“Welp.” Nora let her eyes linger where they’d disappeared before landing on him. “Let’s go.”

The walk was silent, filled with rehearsed alibis, silent hopes for success, and terrible tangents on ways everything could fall apart. There was nothing he could do now. They’d gathered all the information they could, prepared for as much as they could, and now – in the midst of execution – there was no turning back as they strode past the fenced off entranceway to a quiet sector filled with warehouses and crates, barricades, and the odd vehicle parked at smaller storehouses.

Called it. It was always criminals and their warehouses. Two faunus guards manned the door at one such building, both in the white and blacks of the White Fang uniform along with masks covering most of their faces. They both also had guns, aimed down.

One of them stepped forward at their approach. “Halt. What’s your business here?”

Sun glanced at the large spanning wall, letting the dim chaos of hundreds of voices behind inches of steel prelude his answer. “Heard there’s a rally going on. To which I can hear right now. We’re faunus trying to find somewhere to fit.”

“That’s what they all say,” the other guard muttered.

That earned a quick side-eye from the first one. “That is what they all say.” Addressing the teens again, “Do you know exactly what this organization is?”

“White Fang,” Jaune replied with a nod.

 “Mm. And what are you looking for?”

The three teens shared a glance. Wordlessly, it was Sun who stepped up to answer.

“A better tomorrow.”

Another hum, this time taking a different note. The other guard nodded minutely toward the first, and moved to step aside-

“What’s your faunus features?” the first one asked, eyes shifting behind the mask.

Sun showed his tail, to which both nodded at when it moved.

When their eyes moved to Nora, she answered, “Cow faunus.”

“Okay then. Show us the features.”

Instantly, her hands moved to cover her midsection, and her expression became positively thunderous. “I’m not gonna show you my udders.”

They flinched back as if struck by wire. “How else are we gonna know you’re a faunus?”

“You’re just gonna have to take my word for it because I’m not flashing my udders to just anybody!” Nora held the cradle of whatever was under her jacket away from them. “Only one person gets to see the udders, and as far as I can tell, none of ya’lls names are Ren!”

Both guards traded stumped frowns. The second one tried their shot. “Ma’am, please show us the-“

“NO!” Nora screamed, pointing. “Pervert! Pervert Fangs! They want to see my udders!”

“Ma’am-“

Jaune could only stand there and pray that the ridiculous makeup didn’t dissolve from how much sweat he’s metaphorically dropping. He stood there and watched his teammate jump on Sun and wrap her limbs around him like a barnacle while screaming into his ear, “Sun! I thought you said these were revolutionaries of hope, not sickos asking to see my OnlyFaunus pics!”

“We weren’t asking for nudes!”

“I don’t know man.” Far from being rightfully disturbed, Sun doubled down and supported Nora with one arm while glaring at the guards like a scorned husband. “You’re asking a whole lot out of her. Talking about the udders is getting too close to sensitive territory, but asking for her to show em? That’s taking it a step too far.”

“It’s only to make sure-!”

Nora started sobbing into Sun’s shoulder. Sun’s glare became molten.

“Ah- Fine!” The first guard threw his hand up. “Sure! Just keep an eye on her, damnit. I don’t wanna deal with that.” He looked at Jaune. “How about you? You gonna make a scene?”

“Nope. I can show.”

The guard motioned for him to do so. Taking a deep breath, Jaune willed up all his confidence and took the balaclava off. It came up with the vigor of peeling duct tape over crusty skin. First revealing his neck entrenched in blue, bared his deep dark lips to kiss the cool night air, uncovered the sharp accentuation of his cheeks, and revealed the sunken trench that was his eyebags – all the way until it came off.

Everyone stared.

“Snrk-“

“Hee-he-“

Jaune stared back.

Nora, still held by Sun, began to shake, burying muffled snorts into his shirt to keep up the act that she was crying. Sun was trying really hard to keep his mouth shut and cheeks from stretching wide.

The guards however…

The first one stared, long and hard, for a long moment. In fact, it was such a long moment that Jaune realized he was completely locked up. Glancing down, he saw that his fist was curled, tremors slightly wracking his frame. The second one glanced away hard the instant the balaclava came off, hand coming up to cover his mouth.

Then, the first guard looked up, took a deep breath, and smiled tightly – with full dimples – unmoving but for the deep breaths that came like clockwork. He remained in that stance with discipline forged in the mountains by ancient Mistralian monks.

“H-Hey…” choked out the second guard to his companion. It came off peculiarly shaky. “Why you trying not to laugh, bruh? That’s-!” a stutter, “That’s disrespectful as shit.”

The first guard, trying very hard not to convulse, kept smiling.

Somehow, that reaction made it even harder for Nora and Sun to try not to howl into the night like hyenas.

Jaune could only wonder what he’d done to deserve this.

Eventually, mercy finally remembered he existed and gave him a backhanded slap with its glove when the first guard got a grip of himself and let them in, five minutes later. They were given similar masks as them that covered their upper face, before being told to shuffle in with the crowd. Thankfully, they also allowed him to wear his balaclava again. But Jaune had a niggling suspicion that it was so that everyone didn’t break down into laughter the moment he stepped into the room.

The things he did for justice.

- / - / -

Despite having sparred on a rooftop for months, it was Pyrrha’s first time using a ventilation duct as a seat. She kept her eyes on the trio from the moment she got from her position, and confirmed the territory clear from external disturbances shortly after Ren and Neptune set themselves in their spots too. Seeing the little skit the infiltration group played at the entrance was genuinely entertaining, and even from a long distance, Jaune revealing his face was enough to evoke a smile from her.

Seeing the reactions of the guards was a pleasant surprise, too, as she had quiet worries about them being rebuffed right from the start and having to stage plan B. That five-minute long smile from the guard was especially funny. 

For a second, the redhead had to slap herself on the cheek to focus back to the matter at hand. Back to monitoring both the inside and outside of the gated compound.

She opened her scroll, already tuned into the private group chat between the three of them. “It’s been a few minutes since they entered. Have you noticed any discrepancies?”

“Nothing here,” Neptune rattled conversationally. “Place is real quiet, but I guess that’s to be expected for somewhere the White Fang want to hold a rally.”

“There are guards having rotations along the compound,” Ren replied a moment later. He hummed to himself. “Pairs. I’ve spotted two so far.”

“Since settling into position?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.” A few moments of searching and she found the silhouettes of two heads under the moonlight, breaking past the dark on a route that took them around a few containers. “I see them too. Armed.”

“Thankfully no one’s spotted us.”

Pyrrha let the line quiet down as the night took them back in. Surveillance had its perks, but the movies had made it sound a lot more dramatic than it actually was. Sitting there on the roof and noting down anything that moved wasn’t so exciting when that was the only thing she could do until support was needed.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that Ren reopened his scroll. “Actually, now might be a good time to practice something.”

“Ooh. What is it?” Neptune asked.

Not wanting to admit she felt bored, Pyrrha listened in without speaking, letting her teammate do all the talking. “An old practice of my village’s warriors as a form of meditation and strengthening of aura. It’s a higher-level technique, but it allows one to sense the aura signatures of people in a certain range.”

“Can that range be trained?”

“Yes. It depends on the skill level. At earliest, you might get a couple feet. Though the best of ours could sense for at least a mile.”

Pyrrha raised an eyebrow, impressed. “That seems very powerful, Ren. I can think of the possibilities in the field when it comes to locating just about anybody.”

“Thank you. It requires us to be still, but other than that, it’s pretty useful. It takes time to get into the state too.” She heard him take a deep breath before going quiet.

“If he has the time, he can find people that are hidden away pretty easily. Or be unfairly good at hide and seek.” Neptune yawned. “Can you sense now? Do you see the people in the warehouse? Us?”

“Yes,” came the low, vague reply. “The accuracy depends on how deep into the state we can focus on. Talking like this wavers my connection, but even still, I can sort of make out the shape of the auras in the warehouse.”

“What do they look like? Damn – what does a soul look like?”

“Like a distinctly glowing blob. For now, I can’t really distinguish individual auras unless there’s some distance between them. The entire warehouse with packed people looks like if a rainbow vomited into a bowl. Too many people close to each other, with what I presume are guards spaced aside.”

“What else?”

“The people on rotation, and then you, me, and Neptun- Wait.”

The abrupt halt in his tone made her pause, shoulders instinctively tensing.

“There’s something else. A… pinkish soul approaching you, Pyrrha. Watch out!”

She was already moving, whirling around with sword and shield at the ready at the sound of shattering glass. What stood in the fragments of disintegrating aura clad a petite, multicolored woman of pink, browns and whites. Her heterochromatic eyes were her most striking feature, as was the odd parasol sat on her shoulder.

Emerald eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

Vicious twinkles over a grin was her only response.

- / - / -

This was bad-this was bad-this was really really bad!

Even with their initial investigations, there was no way Jaune could have predicted a freaking giant mecha machine of war to be in the hands of the bad guys. All he could do was file the information as they were all forced to bump into the line moving forward, the roaring cheer of the crowd sending rippling tremors through the air like a physical weight. He could sense Nora and Sun’s distress behind him, and it was all he could do to keep it together for the sake of everybody.

His mind raced on finding ways to get out of there in one piece when Sun spoke up, low enough for only three of them. “What are we going to do!?”

Ngh! There wasn’t any time to think! “I, uh, think I saw a power box on the wall behind us. If we can cut the lights we might be able to sneak away in the chaos-“

“Is that Blake!?”

Jaune and Nora gaped, following his line of sight to see the glaring white and black figure of their friend sporting the same mask as they. Jaune’s first thought was compared to them, did Blake not even put the slightest effort into looking inconspicuous? Did the guards not care that your outfit screamed huntress as long as you had faunus features?

Did he let his team dress him like a fish for nothing!?

Blake must have heard her name, cat ears flicking before she turned – and as soon as she did, pure raging disbelief exploded out of her.

“Sun!?” she whisper-shouted. “Nora!?”

“Hey…” Nora whispered, trepidation dripping in the slowness. “I think we’ve been caught.”

The entire group zeroed in to Roman, having stopped smoking against the robot to frown in their direction.

“Damnit,” Blake muttered. She unsheathed her weapon and transformed it into a pistol before shooting it at the junction box.

The lights flickered and died, cheers turned into shouts, and chaos erupted like a volcano.