You know, while I'm sure it's a minority who thought so, it's a little weird at how many people last chapter seemed to think Cinder had romantic interest in Jaune. She literally played chess with him, made a small effort to tell him to leave and be safe and then mentioned how sacrifices had to be made and hinted she would make them if required.
That's hardly romance, or any interest in it. It's pity, included with a little warning of "But I will kill you if I have to. I'm only giving you one chance to leave."
A girl talking to a guy does not mean sexual interest.
Cover Art: Jack Wayne
Chapter 28
There had been rumours of this place. This, Jaune's. They filtered down through those he associated with, reaching his ears with the kind of regularity that ensured it could not be ignored. It was not what his associates normally appreciated; no alcoholic beverages or scantily-clad women. But that was fine. He despised those transient pleasures himself.
Even so, when he first laid eyes on the glass-fronted store with the frosted symbol of a cup of steaming coffee on the front, he not find himself overly impressed. Stores like this were a lien a dozen and he'd crossed one such on the way here, not five doors down.
The bell above the door tinkled as he stepped inside. His hand flew to his hip, released softly a second later as he recalled he was without his weapon, and not here to cause problems.
Though not, of course, completely unarmed. Never that. He had a long-bladed knife hidden on his person, and his fists would be enough for anyone foolish enough to try their luck. Such was not expected, though. It was a cold and misty day, so the black hoodie he wore was not looked at unfavourably. It hid his hair, but also the distinctive animal traits that might attract the wrong sort of attention.
"Welcome to Jaune's," a polite and airy voice chirped, a young faunus sliding by with a tray in one hand and a small smile on her face. A rabbit faunus by the ears. He took her in quickly, noting the workload she'd been given and subtly comparing it to the other human employee. Only when he saw that both worked a similar load did he return her pleasantry with a nod and find a seat for himself.
All too often faunus were given the worst of tasks. Why not? Desperation bred manipulation and there were so many who refused to hire faunus. Some for their own prejudices, some out of fear of what those with prejudices might do to their establishments. Even when they were hired, it was not uncommon for them to work in the back of a store, out of sight, out of mind.
Of course, if that had been the case then he doubted this venue would have come so highly recommended. Not by his associates.
Sitting, he scanned the room once and on seeing no familiar faces, reached up and drew his hood back, revealing short red hair and two black horns nestled among it. Adam Taurus centred himself with a quick sigh, eyes snapping left and right as he judged the public reaction. As a faunus, you learned to do that early on.
There was a table nearby – man and a woman – who stiffened the moment his horns were revealed. They tried not to, tried to look away and not pay attention, but their shoulders were rigid. Accidental racists, then. Or reluctant ones. Pitiable, but not quite as detestable as the two girls in the corner who sneered in his direction. A cough sounded from nearby and the two girls froze, suddenly looking to the male waiter, the human waiter, who was fixing them with a warning look.
So, the rumours were true. No discrimination allowed. Adam allowed a small, amused smile to creep across his face. Less in genuine pleasure for finding such an establishment, but his own subtle enjoyment of the racists' squirming. He half-wished they would make a scene of it. The waiter – both of them, on second glance – were huntsman-trained, probably Beacon. Adam would not even have to raise a hand to see those two girls dealt with.
There were quite a few locations in Vale where prejudice against the faunus was outlawed, either by legal precedent or rules of the establishment, but those were often in word only and poorly enforced. Had the Kingdoms stuck to their laws, the White Fang might not be a thing, but those in power ever found ways to skirt their own rules. The simple fact of the matter was that even if someone who ran a store held no prejudice, they could not step in and enforce the same on their customers. Not without risking prosperity, reprisal or just their own health.
Not everyone hired directly from Beacon. Adam found himself amused to realise that a meagre coffee diner did.
"Morning," a male voice said from beside him. There was a young man beside him, blond hair and blue eyes. Adam noted that the individual had managed to sneak up on him without his instincts providing any warning. At first, he imagined it was because the man was a trained assassin, but he soon realised it was because he was no threat at all.
Gangly, awkward, the early signs of confidence, but not arrogance – mostly revolving around coffee, Adam would have guessed. Despite working here, the man didn't have a coffee stain on his outfit. It might have spoken of lack of effort, but the subtle signs of fatigue spoke otherwise. Besides, Adam had spotted him behind the counter mixing coffee like cocktails the moment he stepped into the building.
"You Jaune?" he asked.
"Yep. Jaune Arc. Nice to meet you."
"Adam," he replied, looking for any recollection. There was none. Adam was, after all, a fairly innocuous name, and he'd come unmasked for obvious reasons. "And the pleasure is mine. Do you normally come serve customers directly?"
"When I'm able to. It was only me here a month or so back. I had to hire Russel and Velvet-" Jaune pointed each out for Adam, as though he could not guess by the names, "-when I had a bit of an accident and had to take things easy."
"I see. They continue to work for you, then."
"Honestly, I'm not sure I can imagine doing all this without them anymore."
"It does seem unusually busy here," Adam noted. It wasn't even ten and there were few tables remaining.
"It's not normally like this. Not before Beacon lets out, anyway. It's the Vytal Festival, though. A lot of people come from afar and they don't have anything to do once they're here. Seeing the sights can only take you so far. I'd bet less than a tenth of the people here right now even live in Vale. Are you here for the festival, too?"
"I am," Adam said, chuckling a little. Oh, he was here for the festival alright. "I'll take a Four Peaks Black," he said, reading off the menu. "Do you have any ginger?"
"Of course."
"Then a little of that, please."
"No problem," Jaune said, writing it down.
When the man left, Adam drummed his fingers on the table. The diverse menu was a pleasant bonus and it had been a while since he'd been in Mistral, where Four Peaks was more commonly available. He could see why some of his men came here.
He mentioned Beacon, though. I shall have to be careful not to come outside of school time. If Blake were to see me…
Not for the first time, Adam felt the pain echo in his chest. It always did when he thought of her, and so he tried his best not to. Tried to erase her from his life like she had him from hers. Her actions had made her desires clear, had they not?
It was difficult. Not just for what they'd been through together or how much they'd lost and loved, but because she was, by her own actions, a traitor. There was protocol for that. Protocol he could not seek to change for his own whims and desires.
Curse your bleeding heart, Blake. Could you not have ended things before the train? You knew we weren't attacking it to sell cupcakes to the drivers.
But no. Blake had her change of heart at the worst of times, and now he would be expected to kill her. Or reclaim her, but he knew how stubborn she could be. If they fought, it would be to the death. The look she'd given him made it clear she thought him a monster.
Ironic, since she was just as guilty as he. They had joined together. Fought together. Descended into darkness together. They were responsible for this, both of them. And yet he was the monster and she the saint. Well, he'd always been aware of Blake's little faults. Wonderful woman that she could be, she was not without them, and the odd bout of hypocrisy rarely came as a surprise.
No. Don't think about her. It will only lead to misery.
Fortunately, Jaune came back with a steaming mug that smelled of ginger, musky coffee and chocolate. The latter was a tray balanced on one wrist, which he gently laid on a table he passed. The woman there, easily eighty years old, dug into the chocolate cake slice happily.
"Here you are," Jaune said, placing the saucer and mug down before Adam. "If you need anything more, just let one of us know."
"I shall. Thank you." Adam lifted the mug when Jaune left and sipped at it. The blend was good, perfect almost. The heavy taste of Four Peaks was not for everyone. Too strong, too pungent some might say. Adam appreciated the caffeine content, not to mention the kick. Needed it for his kind of work.
Still, this was not an unpleasant distraction, and much like the other customers here today, Adam had nothing to do but wait for the festival.
/-/
"It's like Port is trying to see how many of us he can put to sleep."
"I agree," Weiss said, sighing. "At first, I thought he was hiding his lessons in his long-winded stories, looking for those with the insight to see the lesson hidden within. But after months of this, I've decided that is nothing but wishful thinking on my part."
"In non-Weiss speak," Yang said. "He's a bore."
"Ouch, sounds bad," Jaune said, placing out a cake platter for them. He smiled as the four members of Team RWBY dove in, choosing their favoured miniature cakes. Blake and Weiss had once been too reserved for the melee, but now gathered their own and put them on plates before them, knowing that to delay was to risk Yang and Ruby scarfing the whole lot.
"You're actually – hmm – lucky," Ruby said, mouth half-full. "Not having to go to school."
"I go to work instead, Ruby. It's the same hours. More, in fact."
"Yeah, but you get paid for it."
True. Jaune shrugged and laughed as Ruby shot him a betrayed glare. He didn't actually spend much of his money, because apart from wages, rent and everything else, he just didn't have the spare time for it, but it was still nice to see the numbers in his bank account go up. Relaxing, even. That might have just been because it took away the stress and fear he'd first had when starting out.
"You'll get paid in time," he said. "How does a huntress earn money anyway?"
"Same way a huntsman does," Yang teased.
Jaune rolled his eyes. "Now what I meant."
"It's a mixed bag," Weiss answered, ever willing to explain. "There are Government subsidies that pay a huntsman or huntress just for existing and being active. Then there are set tasks, missions or relief efforts – which are usually volunteer-based and carry their own set rewards, split amongst however many go. It's not unusual for huntsmen to find additional employment, though, either in teaching like the professors, or even mercenary work."
"Mercenaries…?"
"Against Grimm," Weiss assured me, and a suddenly worried Ruby. "Defending important locations, clearing out an area of Grimm or escorting a transport. I'm hardly saying huntsmen are criminals on the side."
"Though some are," Blake said tartly. "Torchwick springs to mind."
"Y-Yeah," Jaune laughed. "I've heard of him."
"You should be careful and keep an eye out for him," Ruby said earnestly. "He wouldn't think twice about robbing a place like this."
Or, you know, the old thief wouldn't think twice of coming in to order a mocha late at night and leave frankly staggering tips. If Ruby was worried he'd be robbed by Roman, she had it the wrong way around. He was robbing Roman with tips like that.
"I think I'll be okay. He and the White Fang are hitting dust stores anyway. The only dust I have here is what runs the coffee machines. They're fairly economic."
"That reminds me," Weiss said, "My sister will be coming to Vale soon to meet Ruby and my team. I was wondering if we might bring her here, and whether you could reserve a large table for us. Preferably one with a little room. Winter is… peculiar on her tastes and I'd like to bring her somewhere where she won't have to settle for less."
"Uh, sure. That's fine. When?"
"A day or two. I shall call in advance."
"How did coffee machines remind you of your sister?" Yang drawled.
"The mentions of dust, you dolt. Schnee. Dust. Get it?"
"I'm not an idiot, Weiss."
"Well, don't ask stupid questions and I won't have to give you a stupid answer."
"So, you admit it was a stupid answer?"
"What!? No, I-"
Jaune smiled and tuned out the familiar bickering, rolling his eyes at Blake when she smirked and sipped at her coffee. Four Peaks Black, a blend only one other person recently asked for. It was hardly anyone's favourite – too distinctive a taste – and yet that made two faunus now who enjoyed it. What were the odds?
As Yang and Weiss got further into the insult match – moving from IQ to hair colour and now breast size of all things – Jaune noted the front door opening, and an elderly man entering with an anxious expression. The man had greying hair, thick-rimmed glasses and a corduroy jacket. He spotted Jaune and hurried over, smiling awkwardly.
"Mr Binns."
"Hullo Jaune." Mr Binns said. "Good to see things are going well. Good indeed. I was worried when I heard about Café Prime setting up nearby, buy you've not let that hold you down. No sir."
Jaune realised the girls had stopped arguing and were now watching curiously. Feeling a little flustered, he gestured to them. "This is Frank Binns," he explained. "He owns the building here, both the shop and my apartment. I rent it from him. This is Team RWBY, some of my customers and a team from Beacon."
The girls all said some polite greetings, with Frank returning them with a kindly – if nervous – smile. "Wonderful to see children your age getting out and socialising. Oh yes, simply wonderful. And look after Jaune, hm? He's a great young man. Very enterprising, and never late on payments. Not once. Perfect tenant as far as I'm concerned."
The praise was making him feel nervous, "Is something wrong, Frank? Did my cheque bounce? Do you need me to pay an advance on the next month? I can, but you'll have to let me contact the bank first."
"No, no, nothing like that." Frank wrung his hands together. "Like I said, always on time and a great tenant. And I don't need an advance, Jaune. I… I won't from you anymore. You see… I don't really know how to say it, but… I've had to sell the building, Jaune."
The news was like a sucker punch to the gut. He placed one hand down on Team RWBY's table, more for the support than anything.
"W-What?"
"I didn't have much of a choice, Jaune. You know my missus is getting on in her years and, well, we want to travel, see the world," Frank hurried to say, "When the offer came. Well, it was far above market value. Very far. Almost twice what the property is really worth. We couldn't say no, Jaune, please understand."
"I- well, sure…" He'd known about their circumstances, of course. He couldn't really blame them. "I guess what's done is done. When is it changing hands?"
"Two weeks from now, my boy. The paperwork only went through today and my Maureen said I had to tell you soon as, so here I am."
"I appreciate it, Frank. I mean, it's not like too much changes, right? A new owner is just that. I'll still be able to run Jaune's from down here." The fact Frank wouldn't meet his eyes frightened him. "Won't I…?"
"Jaune, you have to believe me. I told the buyer all about you. Sung your praises. Told them you're a real good tenant, a real keeper. Said they'd be a fool to try and shift you. But… They want the shop, Jaune. They want it real bad. I don't know why, but it has to be this one."
"What?" Ruby asked, sounding more hurt than even he did. Coming from a girl so young, the word made Frank cringe even harder. "But that's not fair. Jaune was here first. The diner is everything to him."
"I-I know, my dear. Believe me. I tried my hardest to fight for you, Jaune. I really did. Maureen did, too. Bless her heart. But we can't turn down this offer. It's double the market value."
"Who would pay that much for a place like this?" Weiss asked. "The location isn't that great, and any footfall generated here is because of Jaune and his work here, not the location itself. Who could possibly think it worth it to pay so much just for this storefront?"
"His name's Alexander," Frank said. "Alexander Sterling."
Jaune laughed bitterly.
Of course…
"I know that name," Yang said, trying to recall it.
Weiss did so easily, "Café Prime."
"Again!?" Yang growled. "How determined are these guys?"
Determined enough. Jaune wanted to go up to his room but doubted he'd make it as far as the staircase, let alone up it. He rocked in place, and Ruby stood quickly, taking his shoulders and guiding him down into her seat. That was just like her, really. So kind. So sweet. He tried to smile for her, but it came out weak and fragile.
He'd been a fool to think things were calming down with Café Prime. He'd thought after they worked together and made a deal, so they could both have seating areas outside, that they'd come to peace, or at least a ceasefire.
I should have known better. They sicced thugs on me. Attacked me. Why would they let this go now?
And in the end, they'd won. Hadn't they…? He couldn't compete his way out of the building being purchased. Not unless he wanted to try and buy it himself, which was so far out of his budget as to be laughable. Buildings in the middle of Vale weren't cheap. Most people rented the places they lived, especially in the city. Only the rich and famous could afford to actually own something. To pay twice the value? Well, that answered the question of whether this was just Sterling or the whole company. No way he had that much money of his own just lying around.
He was out. They were going to kick him out.
"How long do I have…?"
"Month and a half," Frank said. "Two weeks until it's handed over and then they have to give you four-week notice. It's the law."
Not that Sterling had cared much about the law before. It would be foolish to think he would now. There were probably loopholes and he'd have to watch out for those. Maybe Sterling would send more thugs in to make a mess, frame him, and then say he could end the contract early because Jaune was causing property damage.
Hell. Even if he didn't, it wouldn't matter. In six weeks, he'd be out.
Just before the Vytal Festival, too.
Hilarious…
"Why do they have to do this?" Ruby protested. "Why can't they just compete with him fairly!?"
"Because being fair is expensive and time-consuming," Weiss said. "It could take them years to oust Jaune normally, and that's not to mention the possibility he not only survives but beats them at their own game. If he expands, they'd have to fight on multiple fronts. Easier just to buy him out."
"I-I told Sterling I wouldn't sell…"
Weiss nodded sympathetically, "In which case, they'll simply force you out…"
Ruby slammed her hands down on the table, "That's not right!"
"Nothing is right in business, Ruby. It's the harshest battlefield and there are fewer rules than genuine war. Money makes for troops, capital for weapons. Jaune facing Café Prime was always like Patch trying to take over Remnant. They – and Jaune – just don't have the resources."
"So, what?" Blake asked. "He gives up? Sells up?"
"That's his decision. He could relocate. He's proven he can be successful and as Mr Binns says, it would take a foolish landlord not to accept him, even on credit. News will spread of him moving and the customers will return. He'll lose some," she said, wincing. "That's inevitable. But he might gain more in the new area."
"Until Sterling buys that out, too," Jaune said.
Weiss sagged. "Yes. Until that…"
Because if he'd shown willingness to do it once, then there was little to stop him doing it again. And again. And again, and however many times he needed to. Sure, Café Prime's resources would wear thin eventually, but property held its value and how many times did they really need to keep him moving to cripple him? He'd bleed customers from all the relocating, not to mention they'd have him hobbled when the Vytal Festival came around. He'd miss out on the biggest attraction to hit Vale in years. Then there would be the legal fees of all the moving. Changing his tax forms. Bank details. The moving costs of heavy machinery. Inevitable damage…
All added up, it would be the end of him.
When Russel and Velvet came over to see what was wrong, Jaune couldn't meet their eyes. Couldn't tell them the truth, couldn't face it. He mumbled something to Frank and Team RWBY. An excuse, thanks, apologies, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he needed to be alone.
In the sanctity of his apartment, or his apartment for a month and a half anyway, Jaune Arc wept bitter, bitter tears.
/-/
Russel and Velvet got the story from Team RWBY, recounting it as best they could until a full picture was made. The six of them sat, heads lowered, hands clenched into fists. Other customers sat silent as well. Even if they hadn't heard everything, no one had missed Jaune's retreat, nor the look on his face.
No one dared ask for a refill.
"What do we do now?" Ruby asked.
"What can we do?" Velvet said. "I'll keep working for him, even if we have to move shops."
"Not sure that'll be good enough," Russel said. "It's not an issue about losing us – we can commute to wherever we need to. The issue is Café Prime pushing Jaune out of business. Even if this wouldn't do it on its own it sends a clear message. What we can do once, we can do as many times as needed."
"Can't you help him, Weiss?"
"I'm not that rich, Ruby. My father could buy this place a hundred times over, but I burned some bridges even coming to Beacon. There's no way he would agree to this. And no, my allowance may seem large, but it can't cover what must be a quarter of a million lien."
"So, this is it," Yang said. "He has to move."
"Or sell up," Russel said. "You see the look on his face? It was defeated."
"But if he sells, he won't have any reason to stay in Vale," Ruby whimpered.
"Would you want to, after being driven out of business like this?"
"No, but… isn't there something we can do?" The latter came from Velvet, who looked about as broken up as she ever had before. The faunus was biting her lip. For all that work was exhausting and the money wasn't astounding, she enjoyed doing what she did. She didn't want it to end. None of them did.
"I think our hands are tied," Weiss said. "Unless one of us can somehow muster up the finances to outbid Café Prime and even then, it might be too late. It sounds like the paperwork has already been signed."
"So, that's it, then?" Ruby said. "It's over."
Blake looked up. "Not necessarily…"
"Blake?"
"We all want to stop this from happening, correct?" Blake waited for them each to nod. "Well, I doubt we're the only ones. Jaune may have given up, but we don't have to. And frankly, we're looking at things wrong. We keep trying to see how we can beat Café Prime in a fair fight. Well, why should we? They're not offering Jaune – us – a fair fight."
"For once in your life, Blake, don't advocate coffee-based terrorism as a solution here."
"I didn't mean it like that! I meant that we need to fight fire with fire. We, Jaune, can't beat Café Prime if he fights normally. They have resources, money and manpower. But big groups like that have weaknesses, too. The same weaknesses the SDC have."
It was Weiss who caught on first, "Public perception…"
"Exactly. And if Alexander Sterling is willing to go this far to take out an innocent guy running a little coffee joint? Well, that's not something a big brand like Café Prime would want to get out now, is it?"
Team RWBY, Russel and Velvet were silent.
"What do you have in mind…?"
/-/
"I'm furious, Winter. Absolutely furious."
Weiss Schnee was someone prone to a loss of temper. Most of Beacon knew that. It wasn't unusual to see or hear her arguing with her team, usually her partner, but today was different. Weiss Schnee was on her scroll to someone, pacing in the hallways outside her dorm and perilously close to a common room. As was often the case in Beacon, when gossip was spilled into the water, the sharks would gather. As it was, few would be surprised to notice the inhabitants of the common room sitting silent, listening in, more out of morbid curiosity over what had upset Weiss Schnee this time than any real interest.
"I know there's nothing that can be done; that is precisely what has me so angry. Jaune's is a minor coffee shop. It's a favourite haunt of most Beacon students – not to mention the professors. To hear they're going to close it down…? I can't believe it!"
There was a hushed whisper in the common room, along with a few worried glances exchanged. Though not everyone drank coffee or cared to stay out in Vale, it was no exaggeration to say everyone knew someone who either did or knew someone else who did. Even failing that, most knew the name at least.
"Yes, Café Prime – yes, the big chain. You won't believe what they've done, Winter! It's… it's frankly detestable!"
The onlookers leaned in. Even if they didn't care for themselves, each figured they knew someone who might be interested.
After all, this sounded juicy.
/-/
"Where am I going to find a place to work that doesn't discriminate against me?" Velvet said, already half-naked and on the way to getting changed after a sweaty workout in Miss Goodwitch's Class. Coco stood beside her, rocking some designer underwear and definitely making it work. As usual.
The duo often drew attention in the changing room solely for that. Whatever Coco wore, you could rest assured would be mainstream fashion in a few days. She was always ahead. But to hear Velvet sound so distraught? That drew additional attention today.
"Tell me if they do and I'll pay them a visit, Bun-Bun."
"You can't beat up everyone who tries to be prejudiced, Coco."
"Can and will."
Several faunus classmates nodded happily. Coco was well known as being… well, a faunus-sympathiser wasn't the right word, since Coco didn't offer sympathies, she offered action. Usually delivered at the end of her heels. Whatever it was, there wasn't a faunus in Beacon who disliked Coco. At least not seriously.
"It's just… Jaune and Russel defended me against racists. Russel fought them off and Jaune banned them from ever returning. And now Café Prime is going to force him out, and we all know they couldn't care less about discrimination. They just want money."
More grumbles around the changing rooms. Such was unfortunately common nowadays. A few faunus, however, likely having tried to get work with Café Prime or having worked with them in the past, nodded along with Velvet.
"We'll think of something, Coco. I swear."
"I hope so…" Velvet said mournfully. She sniffed, and suddenly everyone in the changing room flinched in horror. Luckily, Velvet didn't cry, and thus the Coco-based apocalypse was avoided, but it was a close call.
One thing was for sure, when everyone was changed, there were more than a few grumbles about Café Prime's unscrupulous business practices. Oddly enough, Velvet's poor mood seemed to have evaporated too.
/-/
"Pretty sure you're not welcome here."
Yang smirked and pulled out a stool. "Pretty sure I told you to call me `sir`. Looks like we're all being forgetful today. Don't worry, I'll let it go."
"Mouthy as ever." Junior sighed and turned around, frowning at Yang. A few of his men had approached from behind but he warned them off with a shake of the head. No one had forgotten what happened last time. "What are you here for, Blondie? Don't make me call the twins. Neither of us needs the hassle."
"Say, Junior, you're an information broker, right?"
"Mhm." Junior narrowed his eyes at her. "But only to people who try and pay with money and not ball-grabbing and casual violence."
"So, you buy information too, right?"
"Occasionally." Junior snorted and turned away. "Not from you, though."
"Not even for the low-low price of a Strawberry Sunrise?"
"I doubt you'd have anything to interest me."
"Shame." Yang ran her finger in circles on the counter, all too aware of the Malachite twins closing in on her. She waited until they were close enough to hear before she spoke, "So, you wouldn't care to hear that Café Prime have found a way to shut Jaune's down?"
Junior's hand flinched. He knocked a bottle off his cocktail counter, sending it to the floor. It crashed loudly, and to Yang's amusement even the DJ stopped playing. The twins? Well, they'd gone very, very still.
Yang's Cheshire smile morphed into a vicious grin.
"So, how about that sunrise?"
/-/
Pyrrha drew a deep breath and paused outside her dorm. Yet again her confidence had failed her, leaving her hiding away from another chance to confront Russel before he left to work the day at Jaune's. So many times now, she'd planned to talk to him. In the morning, in class, at lunch, and every time she'd chickened out.
This was easier in my head.
No more. If she didn't talk to him now, she never would. Pyrrha steeled herself, knowing Russel was inside. Even if this went badly, even if he refused to talk to her at all, she would be able to say she'd tried to fix this. She would be able to move on.
Pyrrha forced the door open.
And found Russel already sat on her bed, "There you are," he said, irritated. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you?"
"E-Eh? What?"
"You," he said, standing. "Pyrrha Nikos. Partner, teammate, you know, person who sleeps in the same dorm as me? I know we've not talked much but I assume you do have eyes. Or is the Invincible Girl so invincible she doesn't need them?"
"No," she said. "I do need them, I mean. I have eyes." Pyrrha cursed a second later as she realised how asinine that sounded. Of course, he'd been sarcastic. "Sorry. Y-You wanted to talk to me? I didn't know you were waiting."
Nor did she know why he looked so pissed. Had he found out about her eavesdropping on him and Winchester?
Russel met her eyes, "Jaune has lost. Café Prime are going to put him out of business in six weeks."
Pyrrha gasped. All thoughts of being found out fled, along with her guilt and all the angst that built up during the day. She swayed and would have fallen if not for the door behind her. Pyrrha fell back against it, eyes wide. "How?"
"They bought the property. They're pushing him out."
"C-Can't he just move?"
"They'll do it again and again. Until he's crushed by the costs of relocating and has to sell. They've got the money. They can afford to hold on to the properties and sell them again once this is all done with."
"That… That's horrible! Disgusting!"
"It is," Russel said. "So, I know we've not talked much. Or gotten on. But wanna do a team-building exercise?"
"Eh?" That was a little random, even for Russel. The sudden shift, and his smile, had her on edge. "Um, I-I guess? What were you thinking?"
"Crushing the reputation of an international coffee chain."
Ah, now she understood.
Pyrrha's lips curled into a smile.
"That sounds grand. What do you have in mind, partner?"
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Glynda Goodwitch pinched the bridge of her nose between her finger and thumb, fighting of the onset of a headache and pushing her glasses back up her nose as she did. With the Vytal Festival so close, she felt she had reason to be stressed.
If only her stress had anything to do about that.
Complaint after complaint. Arguments in the hallways. People coming to her and asking if the rumours were true. What rumours, one might ask? Why the rumours about a sodding coffee shop in Vale, naturally.
Because of course they'd decide to come to her about that. Who else could decide what businesses lived and died in the city other than her? Sure, she'd just fit that in between combat class, marking homework and handling every bit of damned paperwork the school needed in order to keep running.
Okay, she was perhaps a little stressed.
Just a little.
Ozpin was not at his desk when the elevator doors opened. Glynda didn't panic, however. He was stood by the window, cane on the ground and a mug in his other hand, looking out over the school and, in the distance, the city of Vale.
He often did. Too much weighed on his shoulders, and with all of the things he had been through, it was sometimes necessary to stop and remind himself of why he fought. That was the reason he had given her, anyway.
Glynda paused a respectable distance behind him and cleared her throat. When his eyes left the window and met those of her reflection and nodded, she stepped forward to stand beside him. Ozpin took a long sip of coffee.
"Reminiscing again, Ozpin?"
"Just reminding myself of why we fight. What monsters lay out there."
"Hm." Glynda adjusted her clipboard and papers. The forms could wait for now. This moment of peace was worth it. "The Grimm," she said, "Torchwick. The ones who attacked Amber..."
"Café Prime," Ozpin added.
"Café Prime," Glynda agreed, "Salem. They are all-"
Glynda paused. Something was wrong there, she felt. Very wrong. It took her a minute to run back over the conversation and when she found what it was, she brought her hand back up. Pinch went the bridge of her nose. Boom-Boom-Boom went the pulsing headache.
"Ozpin, no."
"So much evil, Glynda. How can one coffee chain contain so much evil?"
How, indeed? You know, there is a whole lot of stupid sabotage like this in business. It's kind of pathetic. We have competitor magazines who barely print anything, lie, and have even claimed to be me in conversations to my own clients. They've been caught out time and time again, but it doesn't matter, because if you get them in trouble they close down and re-open under a new name within a month or two.
But we've had bigger rivals try to pressure and buy us, too. Had one contact one of the big shows we do and basically try to offer them free advertising if the show would BLACKLIST us from it, damaging our revenue at the cost of a few pages in their magazine.
I even got investigated by UK Trading Standards for misleading our customers and involved in an investigation which wasted like, two months of my time, all because a competitor pretended to be a customer and complain I'd lied to them.
Had to prove our figures (readership and circulation) were accurate by providing printer records. It came out fine, we were granted a clean bill of health, but they still got away with it because they can complain and it's our duty to prove innocence.
Lost count of how many rivals have tried to sue us, too, or accuse us of plagiarism. Got one back recently because they tried to claim we copied a story off their site and the story included a quote FROM me. Because my journalist was on holiday, so I went and did the sodding interview with the head of this university department. The story was mine because I bloody went and did it.
So yeah, shit like this isn't even unrealistic. But it would be more vicious, and too low-key for this. Think health inspectors sent into Jaune's kitchens constantly, or his suppliers being pressured into raising prices. Stuff that would be bad but would be super boring to read or write on because no one (Team RWBY and friends) would be able to see it happening.
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