Oh wow, a whopping 275 reviews to last chapter alone. There were a lot of questions people raised, and many of those will find answers in the next few chapters – but it will be the next `few`. There might still be some questions you have at the end of this one. I just wanted to let people know that I'm aware of them; just working towards their answers in terms of the plot.
Cover Art: Jack Wayne
Chapter 18
Jaune's was a scene of chaos even before Team RWBY fought their way to the front of the crowd staring at the diner. The windows were smashed, the door hanging open – and there had to be at least fifty or more people arrayed in front of it gossiping and whispering. More took pictures and pointed from afar.
Two men in black suits with red ties and glasses stood before the diner, one blocking the window and the other the door. Yang's temper sparked at the sight of them but she held it back. If they'd been responsible for this, they wouldn't have stayed around to gloat.
"What happened?" Ruby gasped, forgetting her social awkwardness in the face of her worry. She addressed the taller man at the door. "Where's Jaune? Is he okay?"
"He's alive," the man replied.
"Is he okay, though? No, never mind. I'll check." Ruby darted past him and ducked under his arm, slipping into the diner before the man could stop her.
Yang used the moment where he was distracted to step around behind, tapping his shoulder as she did. He turned to try and find her – and Weiss and Blake ducked in front while he was looking away. By the time he realised what was going on, they were all inside and he had to watch the entrance, thus being unable to follow.
Russel was inside on hands and knees dusting shards of glass into a plastic pan. He looked up when he saw them and Yang had to whistle at the sheer anger in his eyes. "What the hell happened here?" she asked.
"Like I know. Me and Velvet showed up to our shift in time to see this." He muttered something under his breath, and it was so filthy that Ruby blushed and Yang's eyebrows rose. Yep, he wasn't pleased. "The boss is upstairs and the door is open. You might as well go see him. Not like I can stop you."
"It looks like a robbery," Blake said.
"Your powers of deduction are astounding." Russel emptied the glass into a bin with a tinkle and a crash. He crossed his arms and stared at them with lidded eyes, looking like the most cynical fantasy character ever. "Someone should hire you as a detective."
To her credit, Blake let it go. It was obvious he was angry, and not at them specifically. "Sorry. That was pretty obvious. We should go see- Ruby?"
"Already upstairs," Weiss noted, stepping around some glass while looking over the diner's interior. Much of the fantasy decorations were still in one piece, but the front window was beyond hope, as were much of the display counters which had been smashed inwards. The till was missing. Not just the money but the whole thing itself, torn from the counter. "What a mess. I hope Jaune has insurance for all of this…"
"He does. I checked."
"You checked…?"
"This morning," Russel explained, sighing. "First thing I did was check his records and see if he was insured. I've called the police department and the insurance company to try and sort this out."
"That's efficient of you."
Russel glared to the side. "Not like there's anything else I can do, is it?"
Yang sympathised with him, she really did. In a situation like this the first she'd want to do was punch someone's face in, but there really wasn't anyone left behind to do that to. There was nothing like being too late to help to piss someone off. It was worse when you were a huntress or huntsman. What was the point of having all that skill and power if you weren't there to help someone?
"What happens today?" Weiss asked.
"I'll try and clean up enough to open shop," Russel said. "Not that it'll be any good, but I might as well try to earn some money. Velvet got in touch with Marron – our supplier – and he's offered to provide some free stock and even lend us a cooling unit for them."
"Good of him."
"Jaune gets on with the people nearby and they all help one another. It helps that Marron treats Velvet like one of his daughters. It won't be enough, though." He sighed and put the pan and brush down on a table that now had a broken leg. The chair was smashed entirely, having been used as a club to smash in the display units. "A lot of the stuff here is technical machinery and these guys made sure to mess that up. I can brew, but I can't do anything the likes of what Jaune makes. Not without the right equipment."
"Shouldn't the insurance company replace it all?"
"Eventually, sure. They're digging their heels at the moment though."
Yang's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"It's a common tactic," Weiss explained. "The insurance companies will delay until an investigation is at least underway. They'll claim it's to make sure this isn't fraud, but the truth of the matter is that they just don't want to make it easy. Leave them to me," she said. "Give me Jaune's account with them and I'll have one of my family's attorneys get in touch. You'll be surprised how quickly they'll move after that."
"Appreciated. They're on the kitchen side upstairs. Anyone want to help me down here?"
"I will," Blake offered, moving to take the brush from him.
Yang and Weiss slipped away towards the stairs while they got to work. Voices from upstairs showed there was more than just Velvet and Ruby in the apartment. That proved to be even truer than she'd realised when a bouncer – an actual bouncer – tried to stop her at the door. He let her through once he saw her. He could probably still remember the bruises.
It was perhaps expected they would be here. Before, her temper might have flared and had her attack them, but now, with the memory of what she'd done before, Yang only glowered at the Malachite twins. In turn, they ignored her entirely.
"I've told you everything I know," the red one snapped to Ruby. "We're not psychic. We got here as soon as we could and took over the place to keep the crowds outside."
"B-But what about a doctor?"
"We've had a doctor come by. You think we're that stupid?"
"Leave it be, Miltia," the twin in white said. Her voice lacked its usual acerbic air and her eyes remained focused on Jaune. She had a hand on his cheek, which she stroked softly. "The brat's just worried. I can't be bothered to have an argument here and Jaune needs his rest."
That was the cue for the two of them to make themselves noticed, Yang coughing so that they wouldn't be surprised, and holding both hands up when the twins tensed. "We're here to check on Jaune," she said. "How is he?"
"How does he look, blondie?"
"Miltia!" Melanie sighed. "She's pissed that she can't do anything and we didn't see who did this." Not an apology, but Yang nodded anyway. "Jaune is… well, he's not as bad as he looks."
"He looks like he's on death's door," Weiss noted. "Being `not that bad` entails a fairly wide spectrum."
"He'll live. He'll be up and about in a week or so and he'll not have any lasting injuries to show for it. Not any that'll cripple him, anyway. He might have a nasty scar here." She traced under his left eye, where a small cut – possibly from a shard of glass – had traced a red line.
"Maybe it'll make him look a little sexier. He could stand to look a little edgier." Miltia tried to laugh at her quip but it sounded hollow. "Fuck," she cursed. "How did our boys not see this? This place is under our protection. When I find out who was supposed to be watching him…"
"Junior is looking into it, Miltia. Leave it with him."
"You said he'll have no lasting injuries?" Yang said. "How is that possible? He already had his dislocated shoulder from me and his cast is in pieces on the floor." It was bad enough what she'd done, but if someone had worsened it…
That wasn't her fault per se, but she couldn't control the guilt.
"And his face. It… he looks like he's been put through a meat grinder. He's just a civilian and these people attacked him. How is he going to be fine? Why is he here and not at a hospital or something?"
"Because we're trying to keep things quiet for now," Melanie said. "As for the cast, it's because he won't need it in a few days' time."
Yang froze. "What? He had weeks left with that thing even before this."
"Yeah, but not anymore. His aura is taking care of it."
"His—his aura!? Whoah, what? Last time I checked, he didn't have his aura unlocked. Are you telling me he naturally unlockedit?" Such cases were rare, impossibly so, but she'd heard of them. People had figured that was probably how aura first began since no one would have known how to unlock it at first.
There were theories how it worked but most involved intense danger, a desire to live, and that same stress causing the soul to unlock itself in a last-ditch effort for survival.
"That's what we're claiming, but that's not exactly what happened," Melanie said.
Weiss put two and two together. "You unlocked his aura?"
"Not me, but close enough. An associate did."
"I take it your associate realises that there are laws against that."
"Of course. Why do you think I said associate instead of giving you a name? Anyway, without his aura he'd have been hospitalised for weeks and it would be months before he would be back on his feet, let alone strong enough to run things here. Unlocking his aura was the only choice." She shot them a scowl. "I take it you're not going to go running off to the authorities on that one, right?"
"We won't," Ruby said.
"Russel and I already said we're fine with it," Velvet agreed. "It's not like Jaune would use his for bad purposes, so it won't be an issue."
"But if his aura is active, why is he still unconscious?" Ruby asked.
It was Weiss who answered, falling into a lecturing tone. "Aura isn't quite that immediate, Ruby, especially not with people who aren't trained to use it. Remember, it's not a force field but something we have to actively use to block an attack, and he didn't have it unlocked when he was attacked. Jaune has already taken all the damage in full. Aura will help him heal faster and make him stronger, but it isn't a miracle worker, otherwise people would unlock it all the time at hospitals."
There was more to it than that, of course, but Weiss had the basics down and Ruby made a sound of understanding. The key part was that he'd be okay, and a damn sight faster than he normally would. It would still take time due to how much of a beating he'd taken, but it would reduce from weeks to a few days.
And, since he'd been attacked and there were no witnesses, there was technically no way for anyone to claim he hadn't unlocked his aura instinctively.
Besides, people flaunted that law all the time. It was just there to try and keep control of all the unregulated aura users and the potential damage they could cause. It was more a deterrence than a law that was regularly enforced.
"That doctor you called was a shady back-alley one, wasn't he?" Yang quipped.
"They know how to stay quiet."
"Thought so."
"He's good at what he does. It's the guy we use for bad wounds – he's a professional. Still, Jaune is going to be out for a while yet. He might wake up today but we have instructions not to let him even think about getting out of bed. That means the diner is without its manager for at least a couple of days."
"Not like it can run anyway," Ruby said. "The place has been torn to pieces." Her eyes watered. "And Jaune needs the money for rent."
"And wages," Weiss added, looking to Velvet.
"Russel and I have waived ours for now. Beacon covers our expenses, so we can wait until the insurance is sorted to be paid."
"But you're still working and you'll need to be paid for it. We need to get Jaune's diner back on track and selling. He relies on it. If it doesn't open, he'll not be able to stay in business." Weiss growled angrily and crossed her arms. "As much as I hate to suggest it, we might need to don our uniforms once more…"
Yang and Ruby groaned. Groaned, but didn't refuse.
"That won't be necessary, you three," Velvet said. "Russel and I can keep the place going. We just need help bringing it back to working order. And maybe someone to stay by Jaune in case he wakes up."
"Ooh, dibbs!" Ruby yelped, hand in the air. She looked so worried for her best friend that no one, not even the Malachites, could challenge her.
"Right, we'll leave the brat to watch him," Melanie said, standing with a sigh. "Whatever happens, don't let him move. I don't care if he wants to see if his shop is okay, he stays in bed even if you have to tie him to it. Understand?"
Ruby nodded earnestly. "I swear I won't let him get up!"
"The rest of us need to fix this place up," Melanie decided.
"And how are we meant to do that?" Yang asked. "I'm willing, but there's just a few of us and the place is a wreck. What can we even do?"
A loud truck horn honked from outside.
Miltia grinned.
"I made a few calls…"
/-/
The wooden door to the dust antiques dealer tinkled as it opened, leading the man behind the counter to look up. The monocle that served doubly as a magnifying glass slipped from his face as he regarded the visitor. One who would not normally have come by so early, or quite so obviously. He began to sweat, and quickly put down the little box he'd been inspecting and hurried over.
"Oh my, Mr Torchwick. You don't normally visit at times like this." He brushed past the thief to push the bolt of the door up, locking it. He also drew the blinds down over the door. "I do hope no one saw you. Then again, you are the professional here, not I." Even so, the man wrung his hands together nervously.
"Relax, doc. I wasn't seen."
"Good, good. Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners? Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?"
"Not today. I'm on business."
Business could be good, or it could be really, really bad. It depended on the thief's mood, really. A store owner, especially for valuable antiques, might normally have been rather upset to see a man like Roman Torchwick, but not every store in Vale needed to fear him. If he made an enemy of every shop, then where would he buy his wares?
Besides, antiques weren't the only things he sold, and certain aspects of the underworld appreciated his… unique skill at disposing of stolen goods. Financially, that was. A man capable of tracing back the history of items was also, by nature, just as skilled at erasing those same clues.
"Are you here to sell, Roman?"
"I might be here to buy, actually. It all depends."
"Naturally." He bowed and stepped back. "Well, what is it you're looking for? I shall be happy to help you if I can." For a price went unsaid. It always did.
"I'm looking for a certain something – a sword and shield combination. I've got a feeling it might have passed through your store, or that it might pass in a day or two."
"Can you describe it to me?"
"I can do better." Roman removed his scroll and placed it down on the counter, moving through some images to one that appeared to be a small girl with brightly coloured pink and brown hair teasing a man with hair of spun gold. The scene was… surprisingly sweet for a renowned criminal. In the background, on the wall above the counter of whatever store it was, a sword and shield hung.
The antiques dealer took the scroll and zoomed in, focusing on it. "Hm, a rather nice looking thing. Simple but elegant – I'd say it has history to it. You would get more for any other mecha-shift weapon, however. What's so special about this one?"
"Sentimental value. It's been stolen."
He looked up towards the thief, who stared back firmly. Not sentimental to him, surely, but he caught the point well enough. Someone had made a mistake and pilfered something from a friend of Roman's. That was a mistake very few in the underworld made. Only amateurs would be so foolish; that or opportunists.
"It hasn't come through here as of yet, but I can keep an eye out for you." He brought out his own scroll and snapped an image of the weapon from Roman's, handing it back a second later.
"You wouldn't be holding out on me now, doc."
"N-Not at all," he said, suddenly afraid. "R-Roman, I've known you for years and you've known me. Even assuming I'd betray such a loyal customer, common sense would dictate I not do so to one so dangerous. Not for a weapon like that. How much would I even sell it for? Twenty-thousand, thirty? It would take a lot more than that to make risking your wrath worthwhile!"
"Fair point, Doc. Fair point. I want this sword, though. I want it fast. If the ones who took it come here, I want you to buy it off them whatever they demand for it. I'll reimburse you the difference."
Roman leaned forward suddenly, and his eyes took on a deadly gleam. His teeth shone as he smiled cruelly. "And if you can get a good shot of the fuckers with your security cameras, or better yet any names, I'll double the payout."
"D-Double…?"
All of a sudden, this meeting was looking profitable indeed. One thing occurred to him, however. "And what of those who have taken it? What would you do to them?"
Roman's smile didn't comfort him any. The fact he didn't answer the question was even more frightening. None of his business, that was what he told himself. He just had a job to do and some lien to earn.
"V-Very well, I'll see what I can find. If anything comes through matching the image I'll be sure to get in contact."
"That's what I like to hear. Keep up the good work, Doc." Roman chuckled around his cigar as he stepped back towards the door, cane in hand and eyes glinting in the warm-lit room. They were normally so jovial, even in the worst of times, but now there was an edge to them that he'd never seen before.
As the door closed, the man slumped on his desk, relief pouring through him. Never had Roman frightened him so. He'd honestly thought the man about to snap, so tight were his muscles. He'd been coiled like a spring.
"I pity the poor fools who have set him off," he whispered.
Pitied them, but not enough to feel too bad about the offer. There was an old printer in the back; maybe he could get it working and print out some leaflets and signs saying he was looking for swords to purchase, no questions asked.
/-/
By the time the afternoon came around, there wasn't a person in Vale who didn't know Jaune's café had been hit, or at least that was what it felt like. People streamed by in droves, pausing to gasp, point and even to question the intimidating goons stationed outside. Some, huntsmen and huntresses, actually looked ready to force their way past and check on the barista themselves, but calmed down at the sight of several known students working with the suited men.
Yet more came with lien – willing to chip in to help where they could. One or two even brought offers of furniture they could use, or teenage children who were lazy and could use the exercise helping to clean up anyway.
Team RWBY turned them all away politely, though not without some cheer at seeing just how many people thought well of Jaune. They just didn't need the manpower – given that they had around forty Mafioso currently working under their watch.
It was… a little weird.
"Over there," Ruby said, perched on top of a table that four men were carrying between them – her weight included. "No, not here. Did I say stop? This one goes on the side. What? Do I looklike I don't remember how this place was set up?"
"I've told you, three walls white and the one behind the counter black," Weiss said. "It's called a `feature wall` and yes, it's a thing. Well maybe you'd understand if you could see anything other than red. Why you're all wearing those silly things, I don't understand. Oi, paint evenly! This will be multiple coats. Stop trying to lather it on in a thick paste."
Russel and Velvet frog-marched by with a new till held between them. They paused for a second to let Blake push by, brushing more glass from the floor, before they continued on and put it down on the counter, adjusting it to get it right.
There were several men in overalls working at the window, smashing out the remaining glass while a new pane, pristine and with a logo of a coffee cup with steam beneath it frosted onto the glass, waiting to be installed. All of this in a little under three hours, not to mention Weiss sorting out the insurance – and hell, her legal team moved quick – and Junior offering to spot Jaune the money for new coffee equipment until the insurance paid out. That was being delivered later on in the day, which was already an impressive turnaround for bespoke equipment. Again, when Weiss `Heiress to the SDC` Schnee put a call in, people bent over backwards to accommodate.
"I can't believe how quickly this is all going," Yang said, collapsing into one of the new seats, plusher and comfier than the last ones, and with leather seats. She'd single-handedly carried the broken furniture into the skip outside and was now covered in sweat and in need of a break. The skip company had to come and collect twice, so much damaged machinery and furniture there was.
"We don't fuck around," Melanie said, sitting opposite. "Work in our business long enough and you make a lot of contacts."
"Not all of it is from us, though," Miltia added. "That till was donated from a clothes store nearby that replaced their own a week ago. The display unit has been loaned out from Jaune's cake supplier and you should see the mugs."
"Huh?"
Miltia leaned back over the seat and pointed to the counter, which Yang noticed was stacked with mugs, saucers and other things. None of the originals had survived since they'd been in the industrial washer, which had been tipped over in the attack. The contents had been so ruined they hadn't even bothered to take them out, just lugging the whole thing to the skip.
Now, the diner was filled with cups and mugs again, though they weren't the pristine and uniform white ones Jaune had before. They were a ridiculous array of colours, patterns and other things. She thought she saw some with quotes on them too, and others with faces of dogs, cats and scenes from beaches of Vacuo.
There was even one with the symbol of Beacon on it, and a little note saying `#1 Headmaster`.
"What the hell?"
"People have been coming by to donate a mug. I think it's become a campaign somewhere and we haven't noticed. No other explanation for why every visitor brings one." Melanie laughed. "Everyone wants to help even if it's just donating a single cup from their kitchen."
Warmth rushed through her at that, especially when she imagined some random people – elderly couples, businessmen or even children – stopping by to give their favourite cups over, all to try and help the young barista who had been hurt. It was a wonderful gesture, even if it was a little odd. Who knew, maybe Jaune would make it a thing and serve all his drinks in them.
A loud crash interrupted her thoughts.
"Not here!" Ruby howled. "This one goes a bit to the right."
"D-Do you have to stand on top of it while we're carrying it?" one of the men panted. "You're heavy."
Ruby gasped. "Take that back!"
"It's getting loud in here. I'm surprised Jaune hasn't woken up yet. By the way, if Ruby is down here, who is looking after him?"
"The Nikos chick," Miltia said.
"Ah."
"Yeah. Tried to send her away but she looked so scared I thought she was going to kill me for a moment. Decided it'd be easier to have her watch over him than argue. Your sister said she could be trusted."
"Yeah, she's okay. Not a friend of ours but she knows him and likes him well enough."
Miltia snorted. "I could tell."
"If he doesn't wake tonight, Miltia and I will stay with him overnight," Melanie said, sipping from a can of soda. "We work nights anyway and Junior doesn't need us when there isn't some huntress causing trouble. We'll work shifts and keep an eye on him."
Yang nodded her thanks, not quite willing to respond to the dig on her. It was hard to regret what she'd done, even if she now realised just how arrogant she'd been. They were criminals, yes, but they hadn't exactly done anything criminal to her at the time.
"Any idea on who did this?"
"Not yet," Melanie said. "We're looking."
"Café Prime put out a statement earlier about it, saying how much of a tragedy it is to see crime soar in the streets of Vale, etc, etc… and how they wish only the best and a speedy recovery for Jaune. Load of bull if you ask me."
"You think they're involved?" Yang asked.
"It's too early to say," Melanie answered. "Like Miltia says, their sympathy is hollow but that doesn't mean they planned this. Smashing a place to put it out of business isn't really how most legitimate companies operate."
Miltia laughed. "Yeah, that's more our MO."
"We'll figure it out either way," the twin in white said. "And when we do, we'll figure out how to respond."
"Will you involve Jaune?"
"And let him push us to forgive them?" Miltia sounded offended at the idea. "Not a chance. Tell him afterwards maybe, so he feels better, but I'm not letting him put a damper on this. Someone is going to pay for this."
"Why do you care so much?" Yang asked.
The twins froze. "Excuse us?"
"I know you like Jaune, but, I mean…"
"We're criminals."
The way Melanie said it made it clear she was unimpressed, but there was little Yang could say otherwise. She nodded.
"Crooks are still people, you know. It was just about the coffee at first, and why not? We paid, he gave us good drinks and it was a perfectly normal business relationship. I guess it became something more when it kept being us to come over. He was funny, in a blushing and stammering kind of way. It was like visiting a puppy you don't have to clean up for and look after." She shrugged. "It was entertaining. We had fun."
Yang couldn't hide her disappointment. "That's it?"
"Should it be anything more, blondie?" Miltia snapped. "We had fun and we kept coming, and before long we were close. That's how that shit works. He's a friend now and someone has messed with him. Big mistake. We're not all goody-goody like you lot, but we still have our loyalty. We like Jaune and we like hanging around with him. That means he's ours now."
"Your friend or your source of entertainment?"
"Does it matter? He's ours," Miltia repeated. "It's both of those and more, like how it doesn't matter whether your sister is a pain in the ass or not; she's still your sister. We don't mind sharing him with you lot, but if someone tries to hurt him then they get to deal with us."
"What Miltia is trying to say is that we don't have a word for what we are," Melanie explained. "Friends would be one thing, I suppose, but it's more than that. You might say it's like he's a part of the family now – the whole family," she said, indicating the uniformed goons.
"Does Jaune realise that?"
"I think he does, actually. He just pretends not to."
"He's cute like that," Miltia giggled. "He gets that look on his face when he knows he's technically breaking all the rules but tries to convince himself he's not. It's like a kitten about to sneeze. You just want to hug it."
That had to be the vaguest and most confusing thing she'd ever heard. Would it have killed them to just say they were friends, or did the Malachites not really know how? Well, whatever. Yang could sense they cared about him, if only because if he was just property they'd have been angry and offended, but they wouldn't have offered to spend all night looking after him to make sure he was okay. Actions spoke louder than words and the only person who had ever done that for her was Dad and Ruby.
She wasn't sure the Malachites would appreciate being compared to either – or that Jaune would, whether it was him being their dad or their injured son.
"What are you going to do about his aura?" she asked.
"We'll explain things when he's ready for it."
"Will you train him?"
"We might," Melanie said.
"Will it do any good? It takes months of intense training to learn how to use it properly, and even if you taught him it's not like it would do any good. It'll take longer for a Grimm or thug to knock him down, but he'll still be knocked down. He'll just be in agony for longer."
"We know."
Nothing more than that, just a nod from each of them. Aura really wasn't the save-all some people made it out to be. Sure, it could protect you against an attack, but unless you knew how to fight back, what use was that? A Beowolf would just take a fraction longer to kill you and you'd be helpless the whole time, pouring off more negativity and attracting yet more Grimm. It would be torture, plain and simple.
"I can help if you need me to," she offered. "I can teach him some hand-to-hand."
"It won't work."
"You're a huntress."
"You lot train for years and years."
"And even if you tried to train him, he can't dedicate six or more hours a day to it like you do."
Yang's head spun as her attention flicked between the two, who had taken to talking in turn. Their smirks said it was on purpose, and Melanie continued before Yang could complain.
"We'll give him a few pointers. We're different. We didn't learn to fight in a combat school, but on the streets – so we'll be able to show him how to get tough enough to defend himself without all the lessons and homework you have."
"It wasn't enough to stop me beating the two of you," Yang pointed out.
"It's not meant to," Miltia growled. "How are normal people meant to stand a chance against you if you've spent the last seven or so years doing nothing but training to fight? We're meant to be strong enough to deal with petty thugs, criminals and drunken idiots. Jaune shouldn't have to fight more than that. If he comes across someone like you, he's fucked whoever trains him."
There was no arguing with that and Yang didn't try. At the end of the day he was just a barista and a civilian, which meant that aura or not, he couldn't be expected to try and reach their level. Maybe it would have been different if he'd gotten into Beacon, what with all the free time for training and support from the teachers, but out here – without even the means to have a friendly spar – it just wasn't the same.
Street fighting was about the best he could learn, and to be honest the Malachites hadn't been that bad. Not as good as her, sure, but a damn sight better than most.
He would be fine. He had a lot of people looking out for him, them included.
"Yang, I need you to help me arrange the displays," Weiss called.
"Coming!"
/-/
Jaune awoke fevered and gasping but not, to his surprise, in intense agony. The room was dark but for the light of a lamp. He tried to reach for it but failed the moment he moved his shoulder. Pain lanced down it, replaced almost immediately with an indescribable feeling. It was like water – both cool and hot at the same time – flowing through his body to the area, dulling it almost immediately.
"Hey," a familiar voice said, followed by an even more familiar face as Miltia Malachite leaned in front of him. The red-dressed twin was always sharper and more callous than her twin, but for once she held back. "You're awake. It's about time, lazybones."
"W-What time is it?"
"Gone eleven…"
"Nearly lunch rush?"
"Eleven at night, you doofus. It's dark."
Jaune's eyes widened and he tried to sit up, only for Miltia to place two fingers on his forehead and push. Whether it was her strength, his weakness or just the angle he wasn't sure, but his head bent back and he was forced to lie back down.
"You're not going anywhere, buster. The last thing you need to think about is working. Do you even remember what happened to you?"
Remember…?
The last thing he could remember was preparing for Cinder and Roman, making sure the diner was nice and ready for them to arrive and going to sleep. He'd heard knocking around downstairs and… and…
Blinding pain, repeated blows and something cracking against his face, followed by the cold feeling of the floor. Something had struck him over and over in the stomach, even when he could no longer move. He'd cried out for mercy at one point, hadn't he? He'd begged them to stop. A pit opened up in his stomach, equal parts shame and something else. He felt weak and vulnerable. Useless…
"Yeah, I see that you can," Miltia whispered. She sat down on his mattress with a sigh. "Look, I'm not the best at this. You know what I'm like, so don't expect it. What happened, though? It pisses me off. You were hurt badly. Cinder and Roman found you and did what they could, and you even got your aura unlocked – which is why you're probably feeling like shit here as opposed to being hooked up to machines in a hospital. You're not to move, not only on pain of making your injuries worse but on me kicking your ass for it once you're better."
Jaune stared at the girl, trying to process half of the deluge of information she'd just given him and failing at even that. "Miltia," he said.
"Hm?"
"You were right."
"Heh, of course I am."
"You're really bad at this."
"Oi!" Her cheeks puffed out cutely, or it might have been had her eyes not been like shards of ice. She let her anger go with a huff. "You're lucky you're injured or I'd punish you for that one. No one talks to me like that."
No one? He had a feeling Melanie would, but apart from her and maybe Junior, that really was the full list. Was it odd that he felt he'd be included? He didn't know. Even so, his head was spinning and he pressed the palm of one hand to his face.
"I… I can remember them attacking me."
"Faces? Names?"
"N-No, they wore hoods and facemasks. I don't remember them saying anything at all." They had spoken, but his own screams had drowned out the meaning. He clenched his eyes shut against the memory. "I was a coward…"
This time Miltia did lose her patience. She slapped the top of his head. "Oi, none of that shit."
"You don't get it. I cried and cried. I didn't even try to fight, despite wanting to be a huntsman originally. What kind of person am I? I could have run, but I just curled into a ball and let it all happen."
"And what were you supposed to do, perform a flying roundhouse kick to knock one out a window, then break their necks with a broom? You're not an action hero and life doesn't work like a comic. You were outnumbered and attacked and they were armed. Best odds is you survive with a beating, worst is that you die."
"I should have been able to do something…"
"So says everyone who ever has something bad happen to them." She leaned forward. "But the thing is, `should` doesn't cut it in the world. You had no training, no aura and no weapon. You were fucked from the moment they picked you, and odds are that's why they picked you."
"I begged for them to stop," he admitted, cheeks red. He expected her to scoff, roll her eyes or make some half-assed assertion that it was okay. He didn't expect her to laugh.
"That's it? Is that what's got you so wound up?"
"I… well…"
"Gods, you're actually pretty arrogant, aren't you? Or is this `machismo` or something?" Miltia did roll her eyes then, and sighed loudly too. "Sheesh, someone save me from guys who think they have to be tough shit. Okay, listen up, here's some street wisdom for you. When someone is busy kicking the crap out of you and you can't run away, you've got three options. Fight back, give up or do nothing."
"You couldn't fight back because you didn't know how and were outnumbered," she said, poking his cheek. "You chose to give up instead, and let them know you were doing so. Now the third option, what you probably think you should have done, is to stay quiet and ride it out like some kind of stoic brick of a man. And yeah, guess what, that's pretty fucking stupid!"
"B-But-"
"I mean, what would that even achieve?" she asked, more to the ceiling than him since she wasn't giving him the time to answer. "Oh, look at me – I can withstand all your pain. All you're doing is telling them they haven't beaten you up enough. You're basically asking them to keep going. That's fine if you have some reason you have to hold on, like a secret you'd die to keep, but when they're just trying to beat you up? It's stupid."
"Those assholes wanted you broken, Jaune." Miltia stared him in the eye and snarled. "They wanted you to give up so they could trash your shop. In that situation, when it's just lien on the line, you better damn well tell them you give up!"
"Things can be replaced," Melanie said, stepping into the bedroom. It was obvious she'd heard them, and judging from her sharp frown she agreed with her sister completely. "You can't. I'm glad you're okay, but if you're going to start acting like you should have done more, I'm going to join Miltia in proving you wrong."
It was too much. He was too dizzy to really understand it all and a lot of what he did catch didn't stick in his head. Even so, he could understand the emotions behind their words and he nodded his head, unable to speak.
"W-What about my shop?" he asked instead. "They ruined it. I… I'm going to go out of business. I can't pay the rent if I have to replace everything. Even with the money I have in the bank, it won't be enough for all the equipment..."
"It's taken care of," Melanie said.
"It's ruined," he whispered. "I can't… how can I…?"
Miltia and Melanie shared a quick look above him.
"Might as well go all the way," Melanie said.
"Not like he'll calm down otherwise," Miltia agreed. "Okay, idiot. Hold your arms out and don't put any weight on your feet. We're going downstairs."
He wanted to ask what they meant but was cut off by them taking hold of him, supporting his weight easily, despite him being that much taller and heavier than either of them. They balanced him between the two of them, doing all the lifting for him as they manoeuvred his injured frame to the door.
There was a spike of fear when he saw it, quickly quashed when he realised there were no sounds from below, and that even if there had been, these two girls would have sorted it out easily. They were strong, unlike him.
"Easy now," Melanie said, easing the door open. "Let us do the stepping. You just dangle between us like a good boy."
"You should count yourself lucky," Miltia giggled. "Most men would kill to be sandwiched between us like this."
He tried to laugh, he really did. The pit in his stomach had only grown as they descended the steps and he dreaded what he'd see when they rounded the corner. He took a deep breath as they reached the bottom and prepared himself for a wave of bitterness.
His eyes watered instead.
It was… it was different, markedly so. The colouring was a little off and the seats and tables were nicer than what he'd been able to afford. The window had his logo and name frosted onto it and was in one piece, while the door had been replaced entirely. The lights were new, dimmer than what he was used to but in an atmospheric way.
The counters, now whole, had numerous huge crates balanced on them, each one still wrapped and positioned where his coffee machines had been. The company logo on the sides told him they were replacements. The entire back wall was covered in cups for some reason, with over two hundred or more hooks driven into the wall, a mug hanging from each, suspended by the handle.
"H-How…?" he tried to ask.
His voice cracked on the single word.
"Eh, you know..." Miltia didn't even try to hide her grin. "Just us two being awesome..."
"Miltia," Melanie warned.
"What?"
"…"
Miltia sighed. "Okay, fine. Some of your friends might have helped. A little." She huffed. "Not as much as we did, though." Her tiny frown seemed to scream that she wanted him to praise her. He would have given it had he been able to. He might have kissed her then and there.
He sobbed instead.
"W-Whoah? You don't like it? I told that stuck-up bitch he didn't need a feature wall – whatever the hell that's even meant to be. I'll kill her when I see her ne- h-hey!"
Miltia cut off when he tried to hug her, stumbled, and would have fallen if not for Melanie catching him with a laugh. It didn't do much for her sister though, who had tried to back away in shock and fallen on her ass. The red twin glared up at him, rubbing her rear.
"The hell was that for? We worked our asses off for this!"
"T-Thank you," Jaune managed through his tears. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
Miltia looked away, face unreadable, eyes suddenly wide. "Y-Yeah, whatever. No need to be that grateful, you know."
He didn't manage to respond, not even to point out how contrary she was being. He was too busy trying to control his tears and ask the questions in his head, or just to say something. Instead, it was all he could do to stay conscious past the relief that was crushing him alive.
His eyes caught sight of a large poster on the wall behind the counter, wishing him well and covered in names and messages. He could see Ruby's in bright red pen, but also ones from Blake, Weiss, Yang, Pyrrha, Russel, Velvet – even Oobleck, Ozpin and Glynda. Along with so many of his other customers. Some of them were small and cramped; it was obvious they'd run out of space.
"You guys…"
"Don't say it," Miltia grunted, standing up and taking his arm again. "I don't do mushy, got it? You try it and I'll drop you."
Jaune's eyes watered. He nodded.
"Let's get you back to bed," Melanie suggested. "We can all talk more in the morning. Besides, Russel and Velvet will be coming to open up tomorrow. You'll be back in business, after all. Not a moment too soon as well, since you had loads of thirsty customers today."
Back in business…? Already?
He laughed.
It sounded wonderful.
Ugh, the sappiness. Kill it with fire. Yeah, anyway, there you go. It's not a "everything is fine" despite looking like it. They've replaced Jaune's shop and fixed it up, but the root cause is out there and his sword is still missing, not to mention what this will do to Jaune as a person.
I also totally didn't answer the "aura" and "law" question here, though I did allude a little to it. That's the thing which will be covered a later time. Instead, we had a chapter all on community spirit, with the equivalent of what you might imagine from a Twitter meme "Donate a cup" or something.
Even Ozpin gave his… my God…
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur