"Hello there, Jaune."
The voice was familiar, and Jaune looked over to see a middle-aged woman whose brown hair had just started to show hints of grey. He'd never before been one for remembering faces and names, but somehow working like this had worked wonders for his memory and he recognised her instantly.
"Mrs Robertson," he greeted with a smile. "How's it going? I've not seen you and your son for a while."
They'd been regular customers back when he started out, Mrs Robertson along with her eleven-year-old son, Grey. From what he recalled, her husband worked at an office nearby, and they always came to meet him after work so they could spend time together as a family and visit the park. Since there was an hour or so between school ending and Mr Robertson's job, the two of them would usually wait at the diner, and he'd give them some cakes to keep them busy, along with some paper and crayons for Grey.
That had been a regular scene for a while, but he'd noticed their absence a few days ago. He hadn't seen them since. Not until now.
"Ha, yes, well…" She looked away awkwardly. "I felt you perhaps deserved an explanation for why we've been missing. You've been so good to us. My son, especially."
"Did something happen?" Jaune asked. His eyes widened as he realised just how rude a question that might be, and he shook his head a second later. "Forget I asked. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, and you don't have to explain yourself or something."
"No, no, it's fine." Mrs Robertson laughed prettily and smiled at him. "Grey is fine, as is my husband. There isn't anything wrong, it's just…" She sighed. "How do I put this? We've stopped coming around because… well, it wasn't anything you've done wrong…" She trailed off weakly.
So, it was a choice on their part to stop coming. He'd thought it was, even if he'd decided to give them the benefit of the doubt. And really, what was wrong with that? They were their own people and it wasn't like they had to come to his diner if they didn't want to. Jaune bit down on his disappointment and smiled.
"Like I said, it's fine. If you've found somewhere you like more, that's great an-"
"It's not that," she interrupted. The woman ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "I'm not sure how to say it kindly, so I'll just come out and say it. I don't feel comfortable bringing my son here anymore. It's not you," she added quickly, shooting him her kindest smile. "You're great, Jaune, and little Grey loves you. It's just… things don't feel quite as safe anymore."
She looked towards several guns and weapons lined against the walls meaningfully, and then to their wielders, who chatted and laughed between themselves, occupying more than half of the tables in his diner.
Huntsmen and huntresses…
"I just wanted to explain so you knew," she whispered. "I didn't want you to think you'd done something wrong, because you haven't. You've been amazing."
"You just don't feel comfortable around them," Jaune finished, sighing sadly. He felt a small flash of irritation, not towards her, but more at the thought of anyone being scared of someone like Ruby. "They're not bad people, you know. They're fighting to keep us safe from the Grimm."
"Oh, I know," Mrs Robertson assured. "If it wasn't for them, we'd have been overrun a long time ago. I respect them and I love them for what they do. It's just… I can respect them for what they are and what they do, but I still wouldn't trust my little boy around them. It's not unusual for bad things to happen around huntsmen and huntresses. Especially the younger ones…"
"They'd never do that."
"I'm not saying what they wouldn't intentionally do. More like what might happen accidentally. They don't know their own strength and-" It looked like she wanted to explain some more, but she sighed and gave up. "It doesn't matter. I'm not trying to change your mind, Jaune. I just wanted to talk to you so you didn't think you'd done anything wrong. Grey and I love it here, but I can't risk him. He's my baby, and he's all my husband and I have." She bowed her head. "I'm sorry. Good luck with everything, Jaune."
He watched the woman go sadly, and wondered if he should have said something more. The conversation had already left a foul taste in his mouth, though that wasn't anyone's fault. Ruby and the others wouldn't ever do something to hurt a child. Would they…?
No, of course not. The idea was ridiculous. He could imagine Ruby not knowing what to do with a young kid, but she'd never go out of her way to be cruel. She might make some mistakes by not knowing, but he could imagine Yang or Weiss taking over. Maybe if they replaced Blake's book with a children's story, she could manage it too.
He didn't think Mrs Robertson was wrong, though. Or at the very least, she wasn't alone in what she thought. Where he'd started to notice his diner becoming a huntsmen establishment before, it looked like that had been cemented now. A good eighty per cent or more of his clientele came with weaponry beside them, and those that didn't usually came to see the huntsmen. There was a small clique of girls from some upper-year school off to one side, but their eyes were firmly set on a pair of male Beacon students chatting between themselves.
He was fairly sure the girls were only there for the two of them, and judging from the looks on the guy's faces, they knew it too.
Huntsmen and huntresses had that kind of allure. He'd noticed it himself, mainly in how he'd yet to come across one of either gender which could be called ugly or lacking in some way. Team RWBY were knockouts, and even the guys were handsome – either effeminately beautiful, or with a roguish charm that made them stand out. Maybe it was the training, the peak physical fitness, or just something about their confidence. Whatever the case, they drew the eye, and it looked like a few people had noticed.
Team RWBY did the same, really. He wasn't sure they even noticed the college students watching them from a few tables down. Maybe Yang did, but ignored it. He very much doubted the other three had, however. Ruby would have gone bright red otherwise.
There's not a civilian adult in sight, though, he realised. Not a single person above the age of maybe twenty-two at most, and given that middle aged and above had made up just about three-quarters of his custom just two weeks ago, the absence was easily noticed.
No children, either. None at all…
Are they really that intimidated by them? They're just students, and it's not like there are any Grimm around here. In fact, apart from that general appeal they radiated, they were normal people. Normal people with weapons, yes, but it wasn't like any of them had been discharged. Most of the time, it looked like they carried them around because it felt natural.