Welp. This is it, my friends.

The End.

Pestilence, Famine, War, Death…

…

…

…

Uh? The story? Oh, no. That must go on. No matter what calamities affix us, we can not stop.

And no, you can't have my liver; I'm still using it.

-But in all seriousness, these be some strange times we're living in. Try to have patience, tenacity, and most of all, empathy for your fellow people. I know, it can be hard. Even, especially with oneself. I know personally that I am one of my worst enemies. I listen to all your criticism, good and bad, and take it to heart, which is why it took me so long to come back to this. One of my reviewers commented (and I'm paraphrasing) that it's unrealistic for everyone to hate Jin.

Ha.

Have you taken a look outside lately? I've seen such animosity that I want nothing more than to tuck my head in the sand and wait until it all goes away. But I can't.

We can't.

Yeah, we'll continue to fuck things up as humans do, repeat history and the same mistakes. Even then, I'll continue to put myself out there, do whatever I personally can to make this a little bit of a better world, hopefully. And, with any leftover luck and energy, after it does get better- because it will.

If I have learned one thing from all my mistakes on this earth, it's that the past isn't worth fixing. The only thing we can do is try and push forward.

I choose, Sir, never to yield.

Have at you!

-Oh yeah, and "Happy" '20!

"Too far…"

And… where exactly did this line lay? Was the point of no regrets before or after the point of no return? Or were they destinations on two separate paths which only sometimes intersect, one cutting across the wrist, the other down?

For that matter, how much was too much? Was it not fair to indulge himself for a life given in sacrifice?

Or had he perhaps bit off more than he could chew with that stolen kiss?

"Too late to turn back now…"

He couldn't believe it.

Which was in itself a little ridiculous, considering the sheer number of incredible happenings Jaune had personally witnessed (survived) since joining Beacon.

But this, this took the cake.

"I… I won?"

"Congratulations," While he sounded anything but sincere, that was probably because Russel Thrush was on the wrong end of this unique situation, sweating the sword which hadn't left his neck. "…Think you could let me up sometime?"

"Oh! Sorry about that…"

Jaune sheathed Crocea Mors and graciously offered the other huntsman a hand off the ground, which Russel grudgingly accepted. But he didn't stick around for long after that and disappeared into the shadows of Glynda's classroom, which left Jaune alone in the limelight and stunned silence.

It was decidedly uncomfortable. For as much as he'd dreamed of this day (not even counting the pipedreams of being some super-badass huntsman which had persuaded him into foolishly forging his transcripts and plunging headfirst into this clusterfuck) it wasn't going quite how he imagined. To be fair, the others probably didn't think he could do it, either.

-But Goodwitch too? Seriously?

"Ah- *ahem* well done Mr. Arc,"

Haven help them if the biblically uptight Glynda Goodwitch was too stunned to notice that she was supposed to be teaching. No, no, she probably just had a lot more on her mind than the accomplishment of one student which should have happened ages ago.

To be fair, she probably did.

"Very well done. There were a few instances of the match I would like to touch on, but I think we have run out of time to go into detail. Overall, a very satisfactory execution."

It seemed this would be all the praise he would get- which was about as much as anyone ever got from Glynda, barring a select few.

A very select, noticeably absent, few.

This observation made it glaringly apparent to Jaune why he wasn't as satisfied as he should be with his progress. For as 'satisfactory' as he'd become as a huntsman, he was still shamefully deficient when it came to being a captain.

"Congratulations Jaune!"

The difference between Ruby and Russel's cheers was marked. She was as excited for him as if it had been her victory. Oh, who was he kidding? Ruby was just the type of person to be overjoyed even had he won against her (unlikely, but stranger things had happened). Jaune doubted whether he would have gotten a better reaction had he finally allowed the girl to install that rail-gun mod to Crocea Mors she'd been pestering him about(which, incidentally, still wasn't going to happen).

"Thanks, Ruby."

All of which, though, just made him feel worse about it.

"Ow-hey! What-?"

"I heard that."

"H-huh?" Jaune stopped rubbing the back of his head, wondering if he'd managed to say it out loud or if Ruby had somehow gained mind-reading abilities.

"Your tone. This is a happy moment. You're not allowed to disperse yourself!"

"You mean… 'disparage'?"

"Yes, that! And no, you're not allowed to do that!" Seeing that Jaune was focused more on shying away from her militant finger, Ruby tucked it under her folded arms and settled for glaring (pouting) at her friend in admonishment. "We've been over this before, Jaune… what's wrong?"

"I-ah…"

Ah, the ironic duplicity of being honest. They'd agreed some time ago that it would be best to share information between their sister teams, given that their bonds were about as strong as family ties at this point (having seven blood sisters with varying levels of rapport between them, Jaune could confirm this).

But the thing was, Jaune had also promised his partner not to say anything. And at the end of the day, well, it was his team, wasn't it?

"-I guess it just hasn't hit me as being real yet, you know?" Jaune knew this was underhanded, all of them having suffered the post-traumatic stress from a situation that just couldn't be real. "-What about you guys? I- we were kind of nervous when you said what you'd be doing. But based on your mood, it seems to have gone well?"

Jaune genuinely hoped so, but his aspirations were dashed when the too-honest huntress didn't immediately answer.

"It was… interesting…"

"Check-check-check… are we all here?"

"For the hundredth time Ruby, yes!"

"Careful there, Princess, I hear this stuff's sensitive. Might not be able to handle your magnificent voice."

"Sorry Weiss! I just can't help it. It's just so cool, it's like we're spies or something."

"Huntresses. We're huntresses. At least, that's what we're supposed to be…"

Blake was supposed to be pretending that she couldn't hear her team's arguing in her earpiece, but the comedic radio chatter made her nostalgic for something she'd never experienced, let alone thought existed outside of young-adult novels, and the feeling of… friendship brought a smile to her face.

"You know, you look a lot better like that."

Aaaaannnnd there it went.

"Oh come on, what else am I supposed to look at? Show hasn't started yet, and you guys wouldn't let me get hooked up to that fancy gear you got."

"And that's exactly the reason why…" No telling if he'd understand, however. Subtlety, apparently, wasn't Sun Wukong's strong point. Though she'd had plenty of opportunity to figure this out as the Vacuoan huntsman had 'coincidently' stumbled upon their pre-mission strategy meeting and then proceeded to invite himself along. "Look, it wasn't my choice to include you. And as it is, you're not exactly on Beacon's insurance policy."

"Huh? Won't Shade cover any hospital bills, though? They did last time."

"Yeah, but this 'fancy gear' is actually worth something."

"Ooh, ouch."

"That was… surprisingly cold of you."

"And that's coming from the Ice Queen."

"Dude, harsh."

Unlike her teammates, Blake couldn't exactly tune out Sun's overly dramatic performance of getting pierced in the heart. All this was giving her a splitting headache… how had they not been discovered yet? Her teammates might have been well hidden in the rafters, on the roof and across on an adjacent building, but the two Faunus on the floor weren't exactly John and Jane Doe.

Judging by the antlers, they were somewhere in the third row.

But this place was also packed, filled with chatter that was as distracted as it was distracting. What was everyone so hyped about? Unlike Sun, they were whispering to one another in closed groups that made it difficult even for her to catch more than snippets at a time.

"… he's here? Really?"

"…When's it supposed to start? Something special going on or something?"

"… what I heard, something big…"

"… New guy? Tch. Unless he's the Desert Fox, I don't see how one guy's gonna make a difference in the fight to come…"

Even from that little, it didn't sound good.

Though it was hardly a secret that Vale's Faunus were at a breaking point. Revolution had been on the table since Blake was still a part of the White Fang, and, one of the reasons she'd left.

But here she was again, smack in the middle of it all.

What else was new?

"Something seems to be happening…"

Blake didn't exactly need her captain's scope-side commentary to tell her this, though. The overhead lights had finally started to dim. And while Blake would normally welcome anything that would take attention away from her, the darkness was not the comfort it used to be. No, instead, it only strengthened the foreboding feeling like ice crawling across her skin.

Someone was shuffling onto the stage.

"Good evening, Brothers and Sisters…"

No, it couldn't be…

"Most of you here already know who I am," Adam Taurus observed without conceit, looking at the crowd as if he were not above them but one amongst their ranks. It was one of the reasons he had gained such a following. "This might be a bit of a surprise, but the reason I am here will soon become apparent. You know of my exploits- my commitment to the Faunus. You know that if I had more than one life to give, I would gladly lay it down time and again in place of each and every one of you!"

There were murmurs of agreement which sounded almost like prayers against the silence of the curtain call. The performance had just begun, but Adam was already setting up his exit.

"Bearing in mind that I would never betray the Faunus cause, I ask you to remain calm for our… guest."

If it had been anyone else, this would have had the exact opposite effect of assuring the crowd. However, it was a testament to the young man's clout that the rush of whispers merely became more excited, impatient to see what their host had brought them.

Blake honestly couldn't say she was as anxious. She saw something the others didn't - she knew Adam better than anyone else here, his tells, his way of talking, all his idiosyncrasies.

He had asked them to remain calm, but Adam himself was tense. That alone did not account for the hitched gait he had when on stage, not strutting about like a tragic hero as he was wont to do but fixed, cautions about his steps. Was he hurt? -More than that, was he…

Scared?

As much as she wanted to ask him, as much as Blake silently wished that he wouldn't leave, Adam backed out of the limelight and into the same darkness which swallowed them. And then,

They waited.

And waited.

What were they waiting for? Whoever was supposed to stand under that spotlight obviously hadn't understood his que- like a certain blond who shifted restively next to her, seemingly immune to the static tension standing all their hairs on end.

-Wait. What was that? Just past the cone of light, Blake thought she saw something shift. It was as black as the rest of the cavernous warehouse, but she could still tell that it was big by the way the handcrafted stage creaked and sagged along with that subtle movement.

No. Oh, no no no no no no no no-

It couldn't be-

"Animals."

The crowd bristled at this loaded word but didn't move as if being held hostage by it.

"Beasts."

Intentionally provoking, yet no one took a step forward or back as a decidedly inhuman foot was cast into view. Instead, they seemed to be drawn to it much as the light was to the blackness.

Team RWBY had long ago drawn their own conclusions, ever since the first syllable there was but only one thing on their minds.

"Monsters."

"…Oh, fuck me."

No reaction. Not a twitch nor a stir. What emerged was motionless as a statue as the spotlight seemed absorbed by it. Whispers amongst the crowd speculated whether it was real, yet none dared press closer to find out. It didn't look like any Grimm they had ever seen- more like the costumes in those B-Movies where one could clearly tell there was a human (or Faunus, more likely) underneath all that makeup.

"'They might bear a passing resemblance- but surely, they're not like us, are they?'"

Was… was its mouth moving? Or was that just a trick of the light?

"'-Of course not! Look at them; look at their weird eyes-'"

Amber eyes widened, already seeing where this was going even if the mind hadn't kenned to it yet.

"'-Those silly ears-'"

Somewhere ahead of Blake, velvety-soft ears curled in on themselves at the familiar burn.

"'-Disgusting claws, teeth, no good for anything but brutality…'"

Accusations which prickled the Faunus in gathering, latched onto them, drew them further into the darkness.

"'Freaks! They ought to be locked up, put in cages, put down…'"

It was only as the thing on stage stood, unfolded like a praying mantis and crept forward that they could see the shackles it bore, dragging heavy chains behind with links with the same weight as its six tails.

And still, no one moved.

No one was reassured by the restraints around its wrists. They were props, fake, as much a parody as the ventriloquist's speech which put human words into the mouth of this, this…

"…How many times have you, as Faunus, heard this? How many times have you been written off as something lesser than these so-called 'civilized' beings?" For once, not talking down to them, the speech seemed to come from a position of experience, rather than promise. "And… how many times have you tried to prove them wrong, prove that you are just as worthy of acknowledgement and affection? But in doing so, bowed down and forced yourself to obey their rules- become nothing but mankind's dogs?!"

A few of the canid Faunus rose to this provocation but were just as quickly cowed by a growl which asserted its dominance so much more effectively than a verbal threat.

"… But you are not dogs- not humans, either. No, no, no, you- we are something so much more than the sum of our parts. Tell me, what do humans have that Faunus do not? What makes them so much more worthy of the crown? Their strength? Civility? Compassion?"

There was the promise of violence as he paced up and down the stage, but Blake could clearly see with her nocturnal eyesight that at the same time, he was being ever so careful.

She could feel the people around her already filling in these rhetorical questions, making excuses for the messenger who was more akin to their ideal of the devil than a messiah. Ghastly appearance aside… he couldn't be all that bad, could he? He spoke the language of their plight. Poor thing was probably just… misunderstood, much as they were.

By now, all of team RWBY understood what Jin's purpose was here.

"Lies! Lies based on fear! That's how they keep you complacent! Trying to get you to pretend to be something you're not, they have you buying into their lie! You beat yourselves into the mold they hand you, clip your wings and bind your tails just so you fit in- but the truth is you never will. Nothing that you do will ever make you good enough for them!

"The truth… the reality is that you are better than they are. Fewer in number… but oh, how easily that can all be changed."

As easily as he tore off those forged steel links like they were plastic children's toys. As easily as the crowd accepted this development, this inevitability like they guzzled down his poisonous words.

It made Blake sick to her stomach… because she sympathized.

But what was worse, what was truly unbelievable about the whole thing was that Jin of all people empathized- actually believed what he was spouting, making it that much more potent a drug.

It couldn't be, it had to be a hallucination, one of his illusions that he somehow managed to cast over the whole crowd with that one eye which flickered to and froe between them all-

He saw her. Of course he saw her-

-Then it was gone, moved on to someone else closer to the front, someone with oddly familiar animal features and modest posture that made her almost unrecognizable in this context-

Crap. Crap, crap, crap, crap-

What was Velvet doing here?!

"The time is swiftly coming where everyone will have to make a choice," there was no avoiding his attention as he loomed at the edge of the stage, crouching so that his pinwheel eye was staring right at the Rabbit Faunus who had been reeled in closer by it. "…What will you choose? Will you continue to be men and women disguised as mere dogs?"

He cupped a single, clawed finger under Velvet's chin and forced her to look at him. Did she know him as the thing underneath those robes- recognize the glittering teeth behind that all-too sweet grin?

"Or… will you be wolves, disguised as man?"

Man, that had been… something. 'Interesting' didn't cover the half of it.

It was, unfortunately, not an illusion. Even in their hiding places, the other three members of RWBY all had that uncanny feeling of Jin staring right at them sometime during the performance, clear as day a sign that he wanted them to be there.

But why? What did the self-professed, selfish creature gain from allying himself to the Faunus? But of course, he never made them any promises, and stirring this already roiling pot would be right up his alley. In any case, it was… unusual.

Furthermore, why had Velvet of all people been in the crowd? Demure, innocent Velvet.

Then again, with how quiet she was, maybe they didn't know the girl nearly as well as they thought. It was said that everyone had their demons.

Team RWBY brought theirs straight to Ozpin (omitting the presence of their fellow student). No reason trying to hide it; the headmaster had been the one to supply them the communication equipment and doubtlessly had a back door to its recordings. No, better to be upfront about it. Too many issues of trust were complicating things, and the one thing they were certain of was that Ozpin of all people would know what Jin might be up to.

If only the same could be said for Jaune. It was also patently obvious that her friend was withholding something troubling. She had seen much the same look cross the headmaster's face just as they were leaving his office. And there as in now, it did not bode well.

But Ruby had to have confidence in both men. Adding to Jaune's worries certainly wouldn't help anything.

Right?

"…We're still not ready for what's coming, are we?"

"Huh? You mean the Vytal festival?"

Jaune's head swung laboriously back and forth, a stark contrast to how light he'd been on his feet in the ring.

"Then, what?"

"I'm- not quite sure."

He still didn't know what exactly had happened back in Mountain Glenn's undercity. Pyrrha wouldn't say anything about it, other than making him promise not to mention it to anyone- including the headmaster- including his fellow captain. Somehow though, he got the feeling Ozpin already had an idea, and Ruby…

Jaune didn't want to get the wrong idea, but his partner had been returned to them minus a few things like her armor… and her as he had done the many times his sisters forgot to close their bedroom doors or forgot to bring a towel into the shower, Jaune graciously ignored it. But he was sure both Nora and Ren had noticed as well, the former going so far as to try and cover up the fact any way she could. Which was almost comical, considering the fact that Pyrrha dwarfed the other huntress.

This was no laughing matter, though his misgivings like a fit of giggles were being bottled up and making him sick to his stomach. His loyalties were being torn in too many directions, and as much as he wanted to do the right thing, Jaune wasn't sure what that was right now.

In the Grimm's world, might made right. And as much as he hated to admit it, this made a certain amount of sense to Jaune. Who worried about consequences if one could just clean the slate with a sweep of a tail? In comparison, no matter how much Jaune improved, he always seemed to be dwarfed by the issues in front of him.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm not worried."

Then there was the indominable little huntress who always managed to squeak through the forces trying to crush her. Where did she get such unwavering confidence that everything would turn out alright when history had so demonstrably proved the opposite?

"I know it'll sound corny but… well, we're not alone, are we? I mean, when you get a photograph of a weapon without someone holding it, you have no idea how big it is, right? Or-or those food boxes where they have someone with really small hands so that the cookies look so large but then they turn out to be disappointingly tiny and you're like 'aww man, what a gyp!'- err, anyway, I guess what I'm trying to say is that when we're alone, it's easy to think of ourselves as not up to the challenge. And on the other hand, the challenges can seem impossibly huge. But other people… our friends, they keep us honest. They see the best in us and in turn, we want to be the best we can for them. We're strongest when we're not alone, when we're fighting for someone else."

"When a person… has something important they want to protect… that's when they can become truly strong."

Jaune blinked as Ruby's face was cast in negative, cold colors. At the same time, her words were reflected in his mind's eye as if in a mirror made of ice, so far away and distant.

"H-huh…well, I suppose-"

"Could you two keep it down?" Ruby and Jaune looked up as they finally remembered that they had long since moved on from Glynda's class and were, in fact, smack in the middle of their leadership seminar. "Some of us are trying to actually learn … and if you did the same, you might not be sweating the evaluation so much."

That said and with unironic studiousness, Cardin Winchester went back to taking notes on the lecture. His jaw which had healed up months ago was sturdy set, and his nose firmly buried in his work.

What… just what the heck was going on these days?

"Excuse me, um, you wanted to see me, Headmaster?"

This was what the mysterious text message had conveyed, though the scant words had not mentioned anything other than the time which was to be 'as soon as possible'.

What was this about?

What was it about being called to the Headmaster's office that instilled such irrational fear? Regardless of what trials they had been through, how many times the man himself had decried his fallibility, why did Pyrrha feel as if she were still a freshman at her Junior Huntsman academy?

Maybe it was the question itself, like one of those dreams where there is a test that one forgot to study for or found oneself in the middle of class without clothes.

She really hoped it wasn't anything like that.

"Ah, yes, Ms. Nikos," Ozpin rose to greet her, seemed to rouse out of a deep and troubling consultation with himself. "…How are you doing after the mission? You all seemed rather tired, and at the time I did not wish further exhaust you with the burden of a full report."

Such pleasantries would always have the opposite desired effect, specifically for someone like Pyrrha who had always preferred directness, and especially considering what hadoccurred on said mission.

"Respectfully, Headmaster… what is this really about?"

Ozpin's shock was as short-lived as his distraction, eyebrows raising just a hair before settling onto the matter.

"Yes… yes of course, you are right. We no longer have time to beat around the bush." Coming around his desk, Ozpin detoured and stopped facing out one of the identical window panels- although, perhaps that had been the one they'd crashed through not a week before. Pyrrha couldn't say, the office as unfamiliar to her as the headmaster's current behavior. "Tell me, Ms. Nikos… are you afraid?"

Affronted, more like it. Pyrrha thought that he was finally going to be up front-

"Though I suppose it does not matter, does it? We expect perfection from our heroes, regardless of their personal feelings. I, personally, wanted to give you all more of an opportunity to ease into all this, a chance to be unburdened for just a little while longer. But I suppose that is not the way life ever works, is it? The heroes who are chosen are seldom prepared for the roll they are destined to play, rather, they rise to meet it- or else are thrust into the position without choice."

The spotlight was firmly on her like it had been so many times before. But under this crowd of one, as the headmaster stood to face her and seemed to tower over her with his mere half-a-head gain, Pyrrha knew she was unprepared for what was to come. More than unarmed, she felt naked, more naked than she had been, without a personal identity like skin.

"Make no mistake, while it may sound like it… this is not a choice. You can either handle it… or you will fail. And failure means losing everything. Not just life, yours or countless others. No, you will lose your individuality. If you thought that being 'the Invincible Girl' was hard, this will be a trial unlike anything which you've faced before. This is what it means to be a hero, the true story of being chosen as a Maiden.

"And in exchange, there are no guarantees, no promises of victory, only the power to maybe stand up to the threats that are coming and the ones which are already here. As it was in the beginning, I offer the truth, a tool. It is up to you to step forward and use it."

No one moved after that. Confronted with what truly felt like honesty for the first time, Pyrrha was… not relieved. Resigned, perhaps- though wasn't that the same as giving up? Losing what little she considered to be her own? However, how was she expected to be anything else? Heroes didn't sacrifice themselves with a smile on their face, did they? Certainly not with such a slim chance of victory- which in this case, was what, exactly?

As was said though, it never really was a choice, was it?

"However, before we say anything else that cannot be undone," Ozpin interposed with a raised hand, then with it, leading Pyrrha over to the office's elevator in which he revealed a hidden panel. Punching a code into the recessed brass buttons had them lurching downwards faster than the pit already in Pyrrha's stomach.

"There is someone I would like to introduce you."

"Father! Look who I have brought you!"

More like a mangy stray than a guest, Penny dragged the Grimm Man into the humble restaurant whose few other patrons experienced a simultaneous and inexplicable loss of appetite at the malicious air which accompanied them like a foul odor. Jin was just as powerless with the gynoid's mechanically strong grip wrapped around one of his little fingers like a Chinese Handcuff, forced to bow to her ill-logic and stoop under the cloth awning.

"Jinchῡriki, may I introduce my progenitor, Dr. P-"

"I know who the hell he is," Jin bared his teeth with the scraping sound of bowls being refused in disgust. "I wonder though… do you?"

"Now, now, no need to stand in the doorway and block traffic," Beckoning from the small shop's only booth, the old man with hair as long as the noodles and skin weathered as the leather bar stools continued to remain as impervious as his 'daughter'. "Penny, dear, why don't you run along and leave the old men to our reminiscing? I heard rumor that those students you seem so keen on are planning on coming into town later this evening. The 'friendly' thing to do would be to meet them at the Bullhead station, wouldn't you say?"

"Okay!"

While Penny skipped away, eyes as yellow and soft as corn mash watched her go. The way he seemed to know exactly what to say to give them their privacy eliminated what little doubt there was to the man's identity. Not to say that Jin didn't already have some idea…

"As for you, won't you join me?" The man inclined his head at the bench seat across from him and two cups of still steaming green tea- with roasted barely, that smell like rotting flesh tugging at Jin's gums. "I don't bite."

"That, I doubt,"

But the monster with mouth bigger than his furiously spinning crimson eye still shuffled over, weaving between obstacles in the restaurant's crowded interior as if it weren't fixated on the 'old man'. He sat down in the surprisingly sturdy yet already sagging bench, the table pushed as far as it would go towards the wall yet still barely big enough to fit him.

It was obvious that everything about the situation was tailored to the Grimm, from the restaurant and its very public location to the cups of green tea which were timed perfectly to his arrival and the Spring-not-yet-Summer weather. This would have set any shinobi's alarm bells ringing- if, that was, except for the fact that they were already at a fever pitch.

Such as it was, Jin barely noticed the nigh-incomprehensible mumble from the shop's proprietor as he scribbled down their order, food that would probably be wasted on him, anyway.

"In any case…" He had barely sat down, and the old man's smile was getting on his nerves. Claws which had been percussing a drumroll suddenly sunk into the table. "It's not all the surprising that Durama is your doing."

Rasping a chuckle, the old man sat back with ever more amusement curling on his brown face like the table's wood laminate. "I don't think that is as much an insult as you might intend; I consider Penny to be one of my greatest works to date."

"Really? And does Durama even know how many bloody failures precluded her 'success'?- Wait, let me guess: she has no clue just what kind of monster you really are, while Ironwood pretends to not have a clue as long as you only use orphaned Faunus for your experiments- am I right?"

"Please, Penny is unique, a standalone complex not based on any of my previous… youthful discretions." Though the man had yet to display any true discomfort, he had paused upon that phrase while his eyes flicked over to the corner of the room as if it penned in some inconvenient memory. "That is all in the past. And besides, I am not the one hiding behind the title of 'monster', am I, Naruto-kun? -Oh, wait, I am sorry, you prefer to call yourself 'Jinchῡriki' now, don't you? How amusing…"

He chuckled sickly, a Jaundiced hue invading those kindly eyes.

"We can't all shed our skin so easily," It was perhaps the one reason Jin hadn't yet shed his disguise, tore through the flimsy table and the just-as-frail-looking old man on the other side- because for as decrepit as he appeared… "And never who we are underneath… we've both made it this far, I would've expected you to understand this by now,

"Orochimaru."

"Oh? So you did finally piece it together…" For a second, the wrinkles on the old man seemed to crack as his smile widened. His eyes, the only thing still resembling the Snake searched for more of a reaction in the cloaked individual. "And yet… you did not try to attack me upon first sight. I dare say you've grown, Naruto-kun!"

"You'll see how true that is if you keep calling me that." There was no pressing need. The pressure was already there, chopsticks shattering in people's hands as muscles locked in seizure. "I'm not sure which pisses me off more- the fact that you think that you can bribe me with ramen, or that you think I give a shit about the lives of these people."

"Ku, ku! There it is, the infamous Uzumaki temper- tell me, did you enjoy my little homage to Kushina? I can understand why it might have been a tad bit upsetting- but fitting, wouldn't you say?"

"You bastard…" One could practically hear the chains of self-restraint straining, reaching their breaking point and suddenly- "…You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

"Now, that's… hardly fair." Face falling along with the tension, Orochimaru- Old Man Poledina- whoever he was these days, clearly had not expected this outcome.

"Fair? Ha! Since when have you ever cared about that?"

"Since I became the last shinobi." Lack of a denial filled the table like the absence of food, their still-full cups of tea turning stagnant and cool. That's where Orochimaru found his, taking a sip then letting his spindly fingers rest on the rippled ceramic grooves. "Tell me, Naruto-kun… do you even know what happened afterwards? After you excused yourself and the Bijῡ from the stage?"

No longer understanding what was going on, Naru- Jin wasn't even certain who he was dealing with anymore. Something decidedly reptilian reached him- the smell of snake, yes, but also something more. While he was trying to decipher what it was, honest hands with cracks like Wabi-Sabi wrapped around the tea cup for another sip.

"All the world's top shinobi were gone: you, Madara, Sasuke-kun, the Kage mostly wiped out and the S-Ranks gutted. No more Jinchῡriki- no one realized this would be permanent at the time, but I degress, the absence left me virtually unopposed."

Jin would have been a lot more upset at this- Orochimaru was one of the few he considered worse than him- yet, the unpretentious, so very un-Orochimaru manner in which he recalled the past made him hesitate. Oh, he doubted the Snake was telling the truth, at least, not the whole thing.

"To make a long story short, I conquered the world. And not just the Shinobi, but the Samurai and outer lands as well. It was almost pathetically easy."

The smile which manifested on the old-man's face was almost enough convince Jin once again who was in front of him - nearly drove him to the edge. But it was short lived.

"I ruled for roughly a millennium. I find one loses track of these things after a while, especially after the monotony set in. Time passes in decades instead of days as one springs from one crisis to another- honestly, it becomes rather tedious after a while. Even after the resistances were all crushed and my rule was cemented, it was a constant balancing act. Complacency is the King-killer. And think what you will of me, but one cannot simply rule with an iron fist without inviting rust- rebellion. I was fair… if not kind.

"However, here I will not deny your previous accusations; I did indeed continue with my experiments. Science never stops progressing, you know. There were plenty enough subjects under my reign that I did not have to resort to kidnappings. I always had full prisons to pick from, more than enough criminals who the general public did not give a second thought to once they were declared guilty by what I assume was a fair trial. The colorless mechanics of bureaucracy hold little interest, for me or anyone else…

"I had become undeniably the strongest Shinobi in the world- possibly of all time. I tried to test this, as you might have guessed, with obvious results. Oh, I handily beat Hashirama, Tobirama, Sensei, Minato, the Old Fence Sitter Ōnoki and the others. By far the most satisfying was my old fool of a teammate," Here he paused in his recounting, firmly in the present as he looked at the current 'strongest' this world had to offer. Though not for long, as Jin remained motionless as a stone. "-But I could never summon the "Savior of the World" or the "God-Killer" themselves. Both you and Madara remained out of reach. Little wonder why; It was obvious to me that the Edo-Tensei wouldn't work for either of you. Thus began… well, I guess you could call it my obsession.

"Much like you, I banished myself. Though only to the farthest reaches of what had become of this world, regions so uninhabitable that I had not previously bothered conquering them. I let my empire crumble and my former experiments run wild- after all, what was the point in it? What was the point in anything? I had become immortal, nigh-invincible, had all the time to unlock the secrets of the universe and yet… and yet, and yet, and yet…!"

Yet before he could get to the climax, their food showed up. Bated breath kept the thick smell from announcing its arrival, so it came as a surprise when the trembling old proprietor (realizing the danger, or just rheumatism?) presented them with his craft.

"Ah, excellent!" Orochimaru praised, the old server nodding despite the overriding sense that his customers were like lions thanking the lamb for the meal. He quickly retreated to the kitchen as the Snake separated his chopsticks and gazed longingly into the swampy dish. "It is the small things these days that please me the most- and these are some of the best noodles since that place in Konoha… what was it called again?"

"Ichiraku."

"Right, right. Gochishōsama…" Ulterior satisfaction was hidden with the dark broth, the steaming bowl absorbing the old man's attention as he skillfully plucked a piece of pork like a heron catching a fish- like not a day had gone by since he had done the same side-by-side with his teammates and Sensei, being served by a smooth-faced Teuichi. "Mm… it is funny how the details disappear, but the nostalgia remains. Almost like we are setting ourselves up for disappointment… anyway, where was I? Ah, yes,

"The Pit of Despair."

He continued spinning his yarn while swirling noodles around his chopsticks, not spilling a drop. Jin's bowl sat untouched as he watched through the curtain of steam the same way he was trying to see behind the man's lies.

"That is what I called my living quarters-little more than a hole in the ground, really. I sought the ascetic life, ruling and collecting held no more appeal for me. I searched a long time in my exile for meaning to my now-endless existence. I tried all the usual, trivial pursuits: meditating, painting- composing music was perhaps the closest to satisfying, but I digress…

"I was obsessed with you, Naruto-kun. After all, what is power without someone to oppose it? I tried to figure out where you had gone, going over that day over and over again in my head for details that I might have missed- memory is so infuriatingly fallible. The events kept changing every time I recalled them, truth rewriting itself even as I wrote it down to make sure I had my story straight! It was maddening!"

Overall, he seemed giddy, more like his 'daughter' than the 'mad doctor'. Though every now and then that guileless smile would stretch farther than necessary.

"Eventually… I had to conceded defeat. It became clear that what I was doing wouldn't bring me satisfaction, anyway. For even if I brought you back for one last, epic fight to the death, what would be the point?

"No, no, there had to be something more to life, some goal- then it struck me. What is the ultimate power? Destroying is easy, shinobi had been doing it for centuries. Even my experiments were just modifications of pre-existing beings- parodies of Nature's work, not actually creating anything new.

"I returned to the world to find it had changed- I had no idea how much time had gone by, but Chakra had been replaced by this Aura, both of which were subservient to technology. This birthed ideas and proved concepts I had never even imagined. It was a breath of fresh air- I found that some of my experiments had survived, evolved on their own and formed this sub-species called Faunus. This proved to me that what I sought to do was possible.

"I started my mechanical endeavors off small, humble automata based off the White Zetsu with no intelligence of their own. They would serve no basis in Penny's later design, but they served me well enough when I licensed them to the SDC. Their expertise in the novel power-source known as 'Dust' allowed me to skip that part of my research, bringing me ever closer…

"And then, lo and behold! Life! A machine with a soul! Kukukuku! Isn't she wonderful? Something from nothing- is there anything more impressive? What better representation of power is there than the inception of a spark into barrenness?

"Of course, I had to test whether this was life or not. Life is a constant struggle, change. She had to learn things for herself, develop her strength, discover morality, mortality-"

"So, you sent her after me."

"It was the obvious choice," Popping a stone-sized egg into his mouth, the man gulped the thing down whole in his eagerness. "The Bijῡ's return implied yours as well. One day reports simply started turning up about these 'Tailed Grimm'. It was almost disappointingly easy after those centuries of searching.

"However, what my spies were telling me didn't quite make sense. Little doubt who the 'Jichῡriki' was… or was there? Crude, irresponsible? Check, and check. A self-professed 'selfish creature', seemingly indifferent towards casualties incurred by his rampaging… This did not sound like Uzumaki Naruto nor Uchiha Madara. No, no, the former too 'happy-go-lucky' and the latter much too proud. Thus, I had to confirm for myself.

"It wasn't hard to figure out Ozpin smuggled you out of Atlas, and then, just a matter of waiting- as if either of us aren't used to that by now! Ku, ku! I thought sending little Penny after you would be… amusing for both of us. And she probably wouldn't be in any real danger from 'the Great Redeemer'. But if not…"

Cocking his head as if he'd never considered this possibility before, a frown as deep as the bottom of his bowl weathered his worn face.

"You have changed, haven't you? What happened to that indefatigable little Genin? I must say it is rather… disappointing."

"Yeah, well, I still don't know what that means." The full bowl in front of Jin sloshed as he lurched back violently, accordioning the tables stacked up behind as he made to leave without solving anything. "On the other hand, it's almost a comfort to know that you're still the same psycho you always were."

"That really is rather hurtful, Naruto-kun." But it didn't seem to bother his appetite as he upended the bowl, guzzling down the broth and licking his lips with an elongate tongue. "In any case, it seems we have both gotten very different things out of immortality. What would Sasuke-kun say about what you have done with his sacrifice?"

"-The dead don't get to say anything."

"Now, we both know that is not true."

Deadpan- dead silent now as the two realized their conversation had chased the other patrons away. Noticing the pause in their mostly verbal dual, the store's proprietor looked up from where he was gathering a pile of kindling that used to be a table and knitted his bushy eyebrows into a rather fearsome expression of disapproval.

"…You're right, ghosts are noisy things." Ignoring the store owner but cognizant of the low ceiling, Jin stood up and extracted himself from the booth which now more resembled a bird's nest with all the chicks poached. "But I'll tell you the same thing I told Durama: there's a line ahead of you. I'll get to you soon enough."

"Yes, I imagine so." Orochimaru remarked, once again with infinite disappointment and yet patience. "It's in the air; war is coming. I noticed even before I landed. But isn't it a little late for a 'final battle'? I daresay you and I no longer need to be enemies, Naruto-kun."

But as if he were already late for another appointment, Jin had already breezed his way to the front where he stopped and flung over his shoulder a few parting words.

"Oh, and by the way, you left your little sword behind, so I found it a new owner. I think you'd find her… fitting of it."

And with that, he squeezed himself out the doorway and into the street. The atmosphere he left behind did not clear, remaining disturbed.

"…Why? What is the point in estranging the entire world?" Orochimaru-Poledina was still more bothered by Jin-Naruto's previous declaration than the factoid about his sword. More wrinkles were added to the immortal Sanin's brow as he worried over the ignored message and disregarded meal, the Narutomaki staring back it him with its swirling eye. "Don't you realize… you've already won?"

Although, after he signaled to the decrepit owner to bring him a box for the leftovers and the bill for the damages, Orochimaru turned back to find that the bowl was empty. He blinked his yellow eyes that were as sharp as his face was senescent. Then he threw his head back and gave an unhinged cackle.

"Ku, ku, ku, ku! Yes! The Sharingan, magnificent as always!"

The proprietor took the Lien and the laugh with a grain of salt. Eccentric personalities of huntsmen and huntresses no longer phased him, having served the entire spectrum from mentally disturbed to those that were almost too comfortable with their job. These two certainly took first prize, but he imagined that someday even their novelty would wear off.

"…Yet, even more fearsome is the fool who does not know when to give up that which is long gone."

"No! I can't accept this!"

Yang slammed her fist against the table, even without her gauntlets, cracking the desk as if it were the eggshells everyone seemed to be walking on lately.

"I… I…" Her outburst had caused even her team to shuffle their chairs away from the ticking time bomb, everyone except Nora who inched closer, irrespective of personal space to look over the blonde's shoulder and see what had her so upset. "I… failed?"

"Ha! Who's got the "D's" now, eh?!" The diminutive huntress flaunted her own less-than-stellar midterm, though even shoving it over Yang's paper didn't seem to cover the big, fat "F" on it. "D's for degrees!"

"Actually, Ms. Valkyrie, I hate to rain on your parade, but anything less than a 68% cumulative score in any of your core classes will necessitate repeating the semester." To be fair, Oobleck didn't look too pleased about this himself, and though they were friends, many pitied the man who would have to put up with teaching Nora twice in a row. "…However, given that it took me so long to finish grading these over the break and get them back to, your current standing grade in my class is 67.5%."

"Yeet!"

"I will remind you once again, Ms. Valkyrie as I have Ms. Xiao-Long, not to throw classroom furniture regardless if it is in celebration or catharsis."

"Yeet…"

After making sure the excitable huntress had firmly put all four legs of the chair back on the ground, the doctor turned to his other troubled student who fortunately (surprisingly) had not caused any more damage after her initial outburst.

"As for you, Ms. Xiao-Long, it is not too late in the Semester. However, I have recommended to the headmaster, with his agreement, that it would be best to temporarily suspend your participation in your team's ongoing… mission, in leu of remedial study sessions with yours truly."

"WHAT?!"

More cracks propagated from the volume alone, and the profess- doctor's untamable hair was whisked back as if in a wind tunnel. But the wiry man himself remained unmoved, merely adjusting his glasses which had slipped slightly down his nose.

"If you think I enjoy hijacking your personal time, Ms. Xiao-Long, you are quite mistaken. Truly, my only wish is to see all you youngsters succeed. I would admit it would be far better for both of us if you did so the first time around, but I will not hesitate to reteach the material as many times as necessary to convey the lesson. As I said at the beginning of the semester, those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it."

Enough time had gone by, half the semester and change, that the little joke had transformed into something decidedly sinister. If not prophetic, considering what they now knew.

"-Now then, Mr. Arc, before you go, if you would be so kind to deliver this to your partner," Ooblek caught Jaune in his hasty retreat, handed him another paper from the sagging stack in his arms. The scarlet "A" on the page was an iron brand to the huntsman who flinched. "Be sure to give Ms. Nikos my best. I hope she feels better soon- and I am not just saying that out of pride for one of Beacon's top students!"

"Yeah, right…"

While it would always sound halfhearted next to the doctor's enthusiasm, Jaune sounded particularly defeatist as he tucked the two graded reports under his arm, tucked tail between legs and slunk out of the classroom. On his way, sending one last backwards glance at team RWBY along with as much good will as he could muster.

Though once in the hallway, Jaune nearly tripped on his shuffling gate, it suddenly becoming a double-time march as he made his way determinedly… somewhere.

"Well… it's not that bad," Ruby cautiously patted the air above her sister's back, now extremely self-conscious of the A- she hid behind her own. "I'm sure a couple of after-school sessions'll be all that it will take to get you back on track- it'll probably be all that Oobleck can take of tutoring you, heh, heh, heh…"

Though even as she was saying this, they noticed their perpetually caffeinated professor standing in front of a personal espresso machine that was drooling out something tarry and black into his thermos which looked like it would eat a hole in the floor faster than his impatiently tapping foot.

"-Ruby's right, you know. Grades aren't everything."

This seemingly uncharacteristic comment from Weiss then became their entire focus, at least until Blake pointed out,

"She's just saying that because Ruby got a better score than her."

"-Uh! Ah-w-why you-" with cheeks no less red than the B+ she held against her chest, Weiss protested, "I would never-"

Weiss would never admit it, but Yang's sudden chuckle thoroughly creeped her out.

"Thanks guys, but I'm fine, really. Just… well, a little disappointed that I let something like this slip." Her three teammates all tried to look under Yang's shadowed countenance to see if her tight smile would let slip her true feelings. "You guys just focus on tonight. I'll catch up in record time, believe it!"

Maybe it was the saccharine tone, but Yang's bold statement, like the Doctor's, didn't instill them with confidence.

"Um, yeah, sure, of course we will."

Of course, this wasn't true at all. Quite the opposite, as the young leader couldn't help beating herself up on the Bullhead ride over to Vale later that day. While it would have been wise to concentrate on the mission ahead of her, she should have seen this issue coming.

Meanwhile, her sister was having an extremely difficult time keeping her eyes open as she sat in Oobleck's classroom, watching the evening shadows drip slowly down the wall. Yang was just barely restraining herself from tossing the heavy history tome through the wall like Jin had done to her, an event that itself felt like ancient history.

"Agh! What the hell is even the point of this?!"

There wasn't much of a point in keeping her opinions internalized after Oobleck had excused himself from the room, citing some "teacher's conference" or some such drivel. As long as she didn't cause any physical damage, Yang could rage in the empty classroom all she wanted.

Though all the shouting seemed to do was stoke the feeling of impotence, something she'd gradually learned how to deal with like a chronic pain ever since that first wounding blow to her pride at the beginning of the semester.

But now she was stuck away from her team, her sister. And for what- by what? The burden of something so ephemeral and intangible as class standing? What was keeping her from just standing up and walking out, going to vent her frustrations at the gym- or better yet, busting some White-Fang skulls?

If only for the knowledge that once she gave into that temptation, it wouldn't be that much more of a slide to regularly ignoring teachers and skipping classes. Yang might even start to question this whole 'society' thing in general, the unspoken, mutually beneficial agreements which kept the Kingdoms together more than any army or Royal edict.

And why not? Even now, she had a hard time trusting anybody but those closest to her- to say nothing of the headmaster. Although, even then…

Anarchy would always be the end result of that entropic slide; a cold, lonely existence where she could only ever truly depend on herself.

And that, would make her no better than Him.

Her forehead slapping the pages was no harsher a sound than that of her fist against the punching bag, the row of desks she had all to herself vibrating along with her groan like the guitar body of her favorite band's lead- why couldn't she even listen to music while forced to do this drudgery?!

That's when Yang heard something.

Whatever- whoever, was as quiet as a mouse- and there was hardly any chance of that, as the OCD Overseer of All Things Academic, Glynda Goodwitch, would never tolerate a rodent problem in their 'perfect' school.

Which naturally left the things which Glynda couldn't control.

'Not gonna sneak up on me this time, you bastard!'

Yang had not taken her resounding defeat lying down. Even now, with her face firmly planted in the book, she was observing, learning more than a scholastic setting ever could about what tactics the Grimm-Man leveraged.

He targeted their individual insecurities, singled them out because he knew that in a group, they would cover one another's emotional blind spots. Yang was more than aware how her current predicament would make her ripe pickings for Jin's insidious sophistries, and so, she had to remain vigilant.

It was incredible how light on those clawed feet he could be, floorboards of the auditorium flexing no more than the many times her sister had tried to pull a prank on Yang when she thought the elder was 'napping' in class. Thus, there was no way the Grimm would catch her with her pants down. And unlike Ruby, he would not get away with so little as a noogie.

Well, maybe an explosive one.

Though without her gauntlets (and again, why did they have to go unarmed while in a school centered around the constant threat of Grimm?) she was limited in her retaliation. Still, an open-hand rap with the back of her hand would make him think twice about considering her an 'easy' target.

It was almost pathetically easy to lure him in with her performance as an overworked student, keeping her exasperated moan at a constant pitch so that she could distinguish the minute sounds of his approach. Almost unnecessary, as she could sense his looming presence.

"Uuhhhhnnnnnn-Not today!"

Knowing better than to celebrate prematurely, Yang waited until she completed her seated pirouette and felt her knuckles crash firmly against bone before eliciting her shout.

"Ha! Gotcha, Fucker!"

Even then, she was reluctant to congratulate herself until she received more solid confirmation. The very physical-sounding crash into the lecture stands behind her was reassuring, the shadow-draped figure ambling to their feet with a suitable amount of menace.

But something was wrong, so very, very wrong…

"Well, I suppose I deserve that for underestimating you,"

The figure stopped short- was too short- what was with that frown? Where was the sarcasm, the smirk assuring pain? The huntress should have known better than to think she could have gotten off so clean a hit unless he had been equally as distracted as she- She, she, she, she- the silhouette more than human, but a woman…

"I guess you are no longer a child, Yang."

"…Mom?"

All the color drained from Yang's face as the red highlights of her mother's kimono coagulated from the darkness- god, she was just as Yang remembered her, dreamed of her. Although in recent months, that spitting image her own had been replaced by a very different tormentor. But with this return to status quo, Yang honestly wondered which was worse.

"…What are you doing here?"

No reaction, nothing to contradict that cold, cold exterior which made Yang's insides burn, made her lose whatever tactical composure she had practiced for her eventual encounter with the Grimm.

"I'm here to take you home."

Yang felt her breath hitch. It had to be- but no, this was not an illusion. The pain which stretched from her throbbing fists to her clenched heart decried it.

"Why? Why now?"

After years of searching, she just turns up out of the murkiness to whisk her away. Her mother's expression was unchanged from the photograph which had once sat on their home's mantlepiece. And Raven Branwen's intentions were still as unclear as those adolescent days which had faded into nothing but a nostalgic blur like a child's finger-paint portrait.

It took an age akin to paint drying for her to answer.

"… Tai always believed in Ozpin more than I did. Though I admit, I did trust him… however foolishly."

As much as she wanted to hear this story, hear the reason why her birth giver abandoned her, Yang couldn't help taking a step back as her mother descended the amphitheater steps.

"I left you in Tai's care with great reluctance… and a promise." All the things Yang swore she'd say to that blood-traitor when she finally caught up suddenly disappeared as her mother came within arm's length. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk behind her to keep them from doing something regrettable… like embracing the woman's excuse. "Tai could raise you; Ozpin could teach you. And in exchange, neither of us would be forced to participate in the headmaster's schemes.

"-What is different now is that Ozpin betrayed that pact. He exposed you to the truth in such a way that he could control your perception of it, putting you in a no-win situation where the only way to survive was to buy into his optimistic delusions. Whatever détente we had is gone, and now, I am here to take back what is mine."

What should have been a victory for her, what should have been vindication that the woman who gave her life did indeed care for that existence, was instead so, so…

"So, what you're sayin' is… Heh. Heh, heh- ha, ha, ha…"

Raven took a step back as her daughter's hand shot up and slapped her own forehead, fingers worming themselves into that wheat-colored hair the way they had imbedded themselves in the desk. Demented laughter rose and dragged her mother's ageless face deeper into a frown.

"Yang…"

"-Oh, man, this is hilarious!" Both hands now tugged at those golden locks as the young woman appeared to be losing it. "You mean to say that Jin is the reason my mom's finally come back? Dude, I don't think this could get any more ironic."

"That Monster has a name." This was not as much of a surprise as her daughter's apparent familiarity with the Beast. Yet Raven couldn't keep the disdain from her voice the way she had with Ozpin.

"It seems I know more than you do, Mom," Said with the same acerbity as was reserved for the beast himself, Yang peeled back the veil of hair to reveal a gaze that was just as smoldering as the Grimm on a bad day. "-You even met him? No? Then why don't you explain to me how you expect to keep me 'safe' from the 'Big Bad Wolf' when you don't seem to know jack-shit!"

Raven merely raised an eyebrow, lauding the experience she had above her daughter.

"That you need to ask me that… it seems that I still know a thing or two you do not."

"-Don't Fuck with me!"

In response, Yang reached back and heaved the entire row of desks at her mother as if it were little more than a pool noodle, deep flex and long arc whipping into the woman as she stood there, stunned.

Raven only managed to draw half the length of her longsword by the time the apex reached her. Her blade cut through the first tabletop as if it were not more than a single sheet of paper, but the chair legs struck her thigh as she braced for impact and was pushed back into the subsequent rows of desks.

They caught her like a series of arrestor cables whereupon she rebounded and finally unsheathed her blade, cutting cleanly through Yang's audacious strike. She did the same as her daughter reversed her swing, chopping away at the improvised weapon as one might a carrot for a stew until all that was left in Yang's hands was a useless nub.

"Aaaggh! Chew on this!"

-At least, that's what Raven though until she tried to bridge the now open space between them. Then her daughter smashed her fist into the last chunk of desk, throwing wood splinters like buckshot at the Branwen.

Her eyes opened wide like the swirling portal that appeared in her path, Raven diving into the purple pond just as the projectiles disappeared into the other side.

Yang heard the patter of debris hit the wall behind her just as she threw up an elbow, almost catching her mother over her shoulder. But it was Raven who caught the blow with her palm, avoiding having her knee popped by Yang's backwards kick and then locking the both of them down with her own leg.

"Hey! You lost your chance for a hug long ago, let me-!"

But it was the edge of a sword which now pressed against her neck, needing next to no force to quell her resistance.

"Now, will you listen to me?" Hearing nothing but a low growl which shook the length of her sword like a piano string, Raven continued, "I will admit, you are more tenacious than I would have thought, given your instruct-"

The back of Yang's skull struck Raven's nose, a spike of uncurtailable pain shooting straight up into her head like a lobotomy and allowing Yang to get free. She managed to untangle their legs, diving clear while Raven tripped backwards on her own hold.

"Like that? Taught myself that one."

Wiping away her involuntary tears, Raven reached up with her free hand and readjusted her nose with an insensitive crack.

"Actually, you learned that from Tai." She corrected, stood up with the help of her sword. When Raven's face came level, it was with a slight upturn of the lips. "And where do you think he got such underhanded tactics from? Honest, straightforward, Tai?"

"Don't pretend like you've been a part of my life all along! Don't pretend like you know me!"

Don't pretend that I'm like you!

"Oh, but dear daughter, we both know that's not true," As much as she knew what was left unspoken, Raven drew upon Yang with her sword out to the side and the knowledge that she was in complete control. "I was there for many of your important milestones. Not as many as I should have or wanted to be, I admit. But such were the conditions of the deal that I could only watch from the background. And even then, it was only because of the compassion of certain parties to bend the rules.

"… Right, Qrow?"

There was a clear family resemblance in the nature of their frowns, the way Yang's uncle slid from the shadows like tangled bedsheets after a drunken slumber- in fact, the most disconcerting aspect of the whole thing seemed to be the man's stone-cold sobriety.

"Uncle Qrow? What are you doing here? What the hell's going on?!"

"Hey, Champ," He greeted absently, almost like he was still asleep except for the way he was staring unblinkingly at his sister. "Wish I could say this little family reunion is a pleasant surprise, but…"

"You see, Yang?" Yang saw her mother's snide expression, the deep frown like the wrinkled folds of that polaroid she kept in her jacket pocket. And even though it was a near carbon copy of her own image, her daughter couldn't help but think how ugly it looked. "Ozpin has been conducting your lives since the moment you were conceived- before, even. It has all been orchestrated, every chance encounter and coincidence. Qrow is just one of several of Ozpin's agents- his obedient lap dogs. I'm willing to bet he was keeping watch every time you crossed paths with Jin."

"Eh, you're giving me a bit too much credit," Qrow rubbed the stubble on his upper lip with the same ease that he waved off the on-the-nose remark. "Guy's got a pretty good nose and I know better by now than to think I can spy on him."

"-You're not even going to try and deny the other accusations, though?"

Yang had desperately resisted asking this for the very reason that her uncle now gave an unconcerned shrug- one so very much like the uncaring Grimm.

"Who knows what Ozpin gets up to in his free time? And as far as my guilt… well, that ain't the worst of it."

Yang knew she was in a bad situation even before her uncle started reaching for the sword handle over his shoulder. The relationship between her mother and her brother was… complicated, to say the least.

Things got even more confusing when she heard her mother cry out- not a shout of battle though, but one with pain equal to the betrayal of her kin. Qrow's callous expression gave nothing away, so when Yang whipped around to see what had befallen the one who had birthed her, she was shocked to see,

"Professor Oobleck?!"

"Bastard!"

Not bothering to correct either woman, the good doctor was busy avoiding the woman's retaliatory slash which just grazed his neck as he backed away. At the same time, he didn't look particularly happy nor even proud of his accomplishment. Around Raven's own neck was now a donut collar, filled with arcane technology that glowed ominously blue and seemed to burn her like napalm.

"There. That should keep her from using her teleportation Semblance." The light from the collar illuminated the man's expression, blank as the chalkboard in that dark classroom. "Ms. Branwen… Raven, I advise you not to put up any more resistance… please."

"Like Hell-!"

Protest was squeezed out of her when around the room, the desks' shattered remains coalesced into a prison like a tumbleweed around the woman.

"If you don't want to listen to Bartholomew, I'd remind you how much I hate it when people cause a mess."

Just as Yang thought the situation couldn't have gotten any more horrifying, the hellish silhouette of a no-nonsense Glynda Goodwitch materialized like her trap. Opposite to her came Professor Port, whose overall quietness was almost as surprising as the rest of this-clearly planned- encounter.

"What's everyone doing here- what's happening? Someone please, tell me…"

None of their callous expressions were directed at her. No one was deigning to talk to Yang, either, until a cruel chuckle came from the bottom of the pyre in the middle of the room.

"So, you stoop to use a student as bait- your own niece? And you call me heartless."

"You would have come after her, anyway." Qrow justified, though without breaking the staring contest with his sister or his grip on his sword. "For that same reason, you should understand why Ozpin can't afford to have you runnin' around on your own anymore."

Already with the weight piled atop her, Raven nodded lowly.

"Such is the fate of Maidens… the life of a martyr I never wanted for my daughter."

"Uncle Qrow-!"

Then the wood pile exploded like a porcupine shooting its quills; while the teachers all moved to defend themselves, her uncle unfolded his sword and placed both it and his body between Yang and the oncoming wall of shrapnel.

"Yang! Stay back, this-!"

"-Sorry Qrow, but this is my fight." Even with many years more fighting experience than his niece, the huntsman was still susceptible to Yang's sucker-punch to his gut, falling to his knees and only able to reach a shaking hand as she stepped over him. "And if you're not going to answer me, I'm going to get my own."

Yang moved unwaveringly towards her mother whose desperate, frenzied sword-swings kept the other teachers at bay.

"Xiao-Long! What do you think you are do-?!"

"Shut up!"

Raven didn't bother trying to dissuade her daughter with words, instead, snapping at her like a mad dog with her Ō-katana as soon as Yang got within range. But something even more primal stayed her hand as Yang declined to back off, her strike missing by the breadth of one of those fine, yellow hairs. A split-second hesitation allowed Yang to get her hands on her mother, on the collar around her neck. Her mother went stiff, like the other adults in the room, allowing Yang to focus on forcing the collar open.

Whether or not their lives had been orchestrated until now didn't matter, for likely no one could have predicted that Yang's obsessive weight-training regime would actually pay off. Brute strength, veins bulging in her neck were reflected in her mother's ruby-red eyes as she pulled on either side of the single-piece restraint that was designed to resist such forcible removal.

It held up for an admirable fifteen seconds, five seconds fewer than it took for the teachers to finally react to the shattered remains of carbon fiber and titanium hitting the floor.

"X-Xiao-Long!" Glynda sputtered- a sight Yang would have relished except for being doubled over in exertion, "You- detenti- no, I ought to suspend you-!"

Punishment would be suspended as Raven moved to cut this Parent-Teacher conference short. All it took was a short jab to Yang's bellowing gut. Her daughter's eyes bulged- she hadn't predicted this; near-sighted planning being a double-edged sword as brutal as the butt of Raven's sheath.

Her mother was much gentler with her 'love-tap' than Yang herself had been with her uncle. But Raven was no less determined in her movement, dragging her heaving daughter towards a portal that she had spawned the instant she felt the field around her Aura break.

No oxygen meant that for all her muscle, Yang was helpless as she'd been as a baby. Only this time, it was her mother reaching out for her as she disappeared, taking them both away from the life she had known up until that point.

-No! While she still wanted answers, Yang had decided a while ago that the surety of her friends was worth more. She wouldn't let her mother- this strange woman- dictate her life anymore.

Planting her feet, Yang tried to pull back in that fleshy tug-of-war but felt herself slip on the floorboards worn smooth by Glynda's compulsive cleaning. Her mother turned to look at her, renewing Yang's determination with her mean expression.

It was a look which just as quickly became one of surprise in a flash- a spray of blood.

Yang watched her mirror image fall apart, Raven falling backwards into her gaping portal with mouth open wide, only to be replaced by another face that Yang vaguely recognized.

Incongruous as her bicolored hair, Neapolitan smirked two-facedly at Yang. She flashed her a wink that gleamed as devilishly as her shiny new sword. And then she too disappeared along with Raven, leaving Yang behind as the link pulling her in was severed like an umbilical cord.

The portal winked out of existence and Yang fell backwards onto her rear.

"W-what-?" She gasped, breath only now coming back while everything else remained totally confused.

"Shit," Qrow swore as he too had only just limped over to the scene. Glancing down at his niece, the disapproval which had been on his grizzled lips turned into- "Oh, fuck."

"What?" Now looking at her uncle looking at her, Yang saw his face undergo the same bottom-dropping-out transformation that had befallen his sister just moments ago. She felt her gut sink at the same time she noticed a weight in her lap and the eyes of the rest of the room on her. "Okay, I know I screwed up, but why is everyone looking at me-?"

Finally seeing for herself, Yang looked down at the feeling of something still wrapped around her wrist.

At her mother's severed arm in her lap.

Adam Taurus wasn't scared.

Nor, really was he all that surprised.

Oh no, no, no, no, no, no-

He was pissed.

"-That mongrel, that Monster thinks he can just come in and usurp all that I've worked for-"

With humor as black as the pot or kettle, the White Fang commander paced around his hideout, each limping step reminding him of his first encounter with the beast known as Jin and inciting him to take another. He needed to take some kind of action against this coup, lest he end up like either of the White Fang's previous leaders.

"Preachin' to the choir, my dear boy."

Roman Torchwick didn't so much as flinch as Adam turned his frothing glare on him, simply lighting another one of his cigars as was his habit whenever he himself was feeling nervous… or confident, for that matter.

"Naw, but really, I feel for you Faunus, you know? Wasn't exactly well-off myself growing up, but I can only imagine how it must've been for you lot," though it would only ever be in the manner of stuffed-shirt theologians, relaxing in their comfy armchairs the way Roman draped himself over the haggard sofa and watched his smoke rings spread themselves thinner and thinner until they vanished. "We're both underdogs in our own way."

"-Don't compare me to the likes of you, Scum," Adam snarled, stalked up to the unconcerned Torchwick. "What have you ever done in your life that was not for your own benefit? You're lucky- you don't deserve to be so lucky-"

"Ah! But isn't that the point of it exactly?" Roman began lecturing the young rebel with his cigar, sitting up and jabbing the lit end at Adam as if he could snuff out the boy's face like a photograph. "Nothing I do matters; I exist because of people like you. You need scum like me to compare to, to put other, more… dangerous people in perspective.

"-And don't get me wrong; I am ever so grateful. Principles are wonderful things for someone else to have. A bit tiresome to live with yourself, but, hey, they keep people like me in business no matter who wins! The lesser of two evils always squeaks through as the middleman." Chomping the cigar down in his grin, Roman weighted his hands on either side, "Isn't that why you accepted my offer in the first place?"

"Don't think I trust you as far as I can throw you."

"Bwa, ha, ha! Oh, my dear boy, while I am certain you could still punt me into the next Kingdom with that bum leg of yours, I'd never expect you to actually trust me." Passing his smoke to his right hand, Roman skipped up and tossed his left over his ally's shoulder, ignoring that Taurus's own hands were drifting to the sword on his waist. "It's one of my most endearing qualities, after all. Remember that you can always trust a dishonest man to be dishonest."

Suddenly appearing disconcerted, though, made Adam think twice about cutting down Roman where he stood. Ginger pulled his fellow redhead in closer as if to whisper something even more conspiring than what they were already set upon.

"Honest folks, on the other hand-" He moved to take a drag but stopped, the smoke trailing off like his train of thought. Time piled up as ash at the end of his stogie and there was a tobacco glow in his eyes. "Honestly… not sure I've ever met one. Huh."

"-Then, get off me!"

No longer enraptured, Adam elbowed the flagrant criminal in his ribs and ducked out underneath his arm.

"Nothing you've said or done so far has instilled any amount of confidence. Where is the contact you promised? I ought to treat this as a trap, cut your head off and present it to that Fall woman to prove my loyalty. At least if I were to bank on her, I would be guaranteed some amount of support against that Grimm."

"Tsk, tsk. Did no one ever teach you patience? That, and I would have thought prepping for your position in the White Fang would have given you some insight." Roman still did not look particularly nervous as he paced the cramped hideout, but the accordion of ash drooping from his lips told a different story. "You think Cinder's likely to believe someone like you professing 'loyalty'? Furthermore, you think Cinder believes herself? Maybe she honestly thinks she can take on Mr. Skull-and-Bones, but no one else does. Not until she finds what she's looking for at Beacon, anyway."

"And pray tell, what is it she is looking for, exactly?"

"I-"

"I can answer that."

Roman nearly sucked in the butt of his cigar as Adam drew his sword.

"You-" Adam turned his anger from the intruder to Torchwick, knowing he would have no chance against the former, "You traitor!"

"Now, now. Roman couldn't exactly tell you who you would be meeting, now could he?" Still unable to do anything but cough, the newcomer strolled confidently over and began thumping the criminal's back until the last grayish wad of ash had been dislodged from his throat. "There we go… you never would have agreed to come had you known who his contact was, right, Mr. Taurus?"

Unable to talk for a different reason, Adam merely nodded as much as his tensed muscles would allow. As much as he would continue to deny he was frightened, Adam was… on edge.

"However, I can guarantee it is in the best interest of all parties if we can come to an agreement."

This promise was not as comforting as it might have appeared, and Adam eventually realized why as the seemingly useless conversation he'd just had with Torchwick came to mind. For while most people wanted to believe in that halcyon smile, trust in the beneficent public image he had cultivated over decades, this was, after all,

Ozpin: the Great and Terrible.

"Why don't we all have a seat? I promise, I don't bite."

True.

But there were worse things.

Jaune didn't see how things could get worse.

Although to be fair, he never did.

"It's not fair."

No, it really wasn't. Though he should have known this since growing up as the middle (male) child of a matriarchal family. By the time he was ready to make a name for himself, his sisters had already set the bar higher than an Olympic pole vaulter (actually, his second-oldest sibling was an internationally recognized marathon runner and the one immediately younger than him a professional ballerina, but that was neither here nor there).

By the time Jaune had worked up the courage to confront his partner, she was no longer there.

For the past week Pyrrha had hardly left their dorm, even taking her meals separate from her team. The behavior was even more disturbing than it was hurtful, and so none of them had tired talking to her about it. Yet, when Jaune had finally composed himself enough to ask her, formulated the conversation in his head to the point where he felt- if not comfortable nor confident then able to talk to her- she was gone.

With nothing there to support him, Jaune practically fell into the dark, empty dorm room. He stumbled over to the beds and collapsed face-down on one- devoid of occupants or care, it didn't really matter which.

Though this wasn't exactly true, as the all-too familiar scent slapped him in the face. Jaune could practically feel the absent warmth, the profiled outline of his partner in the mattress that he knew he could never fill. He groaned and rolled out of Pyrrha's bed, onto the floor which was a much more suitable place for wallowing in self-pity.

"Ow,"

Something landed on top of him, softer and lighter than the floorboards but no less obnoxious. Like a frozen pea at the bottom of a stack of mattresses, it eventually got to him. Jaune lifted himself out of his ennui, sat up and saw the dish-shaped object roll off his back and onto the ground.

He didn't need the overhead lights to recognize Jin's hat. Or was it Pyrrha's now? The thing had sat unobtrusively on her bedpost since before they'd even started classes, and yet he'd seldom noticed it until now, scarcely bothered by it.

Until now.

Now his hands trembled- clenched and spasmed in rage as he reached out to put the hat where it belonged. He stopped short of touching it, knowing that he would tear right through the wicker if allowed. He would rip the thing apart, stomp it to a pulp, not caring if the act were juvenile.

It was, however, not his.

Was he… jealous? Envious?

Maybe. But of what? Jin's strength? His confidence? His control over them, or his ownership of Jaune's partner? Remembering his conversation with that doll-like girl, Jaune decided that no, he did not hate the Grimm. He just…

Jaune realized that he was bleeding, fingernails digging past his Aura into his palms. Erstwhile he would have been proud of this newfound strength, instead he cursed his stupidity as he dribbled blood onto the hat. It didn't even have the decency to land on the red sections where it would be less visible, instead staining the white and adding some extra strokes to the pictogram of 'fire'.

"Damnit!"

Jaune leapt up and made for the bathroom, hoping to get a moist towel and clean it up before it set.

But the moment he set his feet on the floor his stomach began to burn. His blood started to boil- almost literally feeling like he was on fire. Delirious as any fever, he pitched over and Jaune's head slammed against the floor. A new cut opened up on his brow that bled into the cracks the way the rest of his essence filled in the lines of arcane seals layered beneath the hat's silk cover.

"Unnngghh, why is this happening to me?"

Jaune moaned, struggled to get his knees underneath him and into his gut which felt so full despite the fact that he'd missed both lunch and now probably dinner. This was worse than any flu he'd ever experienced, like food poisoning for his entire body as it shuddered and trembled trying to rid itself of whatever was pushing into him, filling, invading…

The pain retreated all of a sudden, and Jaune found himself not in the darkness of the dorm but the sparkling blindness of a migraine, which was almost preferable to the emptiness he'd find if he were to open his eyes.

'How long are you just going to lie there in that disgusting self-pity?'

-And there it was: the universe again contradicting him.

"Ungh, just… leave me alone," He must have done something awful in a previous life to warrant it- that was the only explanation Jaune could imagine for why he was so often the target of misfortune. "Seriously, what did I ever do to deserve this?"

'Deserve? HA! Life doesn't work like that, kid. It's all about luck, whatever deck fate hands you. You can either play with it or-"

"Shut up!"

Jaune was exhausted, but more than that, tired of listening to-

Nothing. There was still no one in the room with him when he went to sit up, looked all around just to see that not even the windows were cracked to let in a breeze.

"Alright. Alright, I'm going crazy now." First it was control of his team and now himself- it felt like Jaune was losing things bit by bit, holding his head in his hands to keep from falling apart entirely. "That's… great. That's just fucking perfect."

'-Losing is something you can ill-afford, boy. Least of all your head.'

It wasn't enough for the world to kick him while he was down; Jaune had to do it himself. Ruby was right- What would she say about this?

'Get up, gaki. We have work to do.'

… Maybe not quite, but…

Something wasn't quite right in general. The more he listened to it, the less the voice reminded him of Jin. Sure, there was a passing similarity- so much that he could imagine the toothy grin and sharp face staring down at him. However…

"Who… who are you?"

Nothing. No one. It was gone.

Air left his lungs as Jaune heaved a sigh. If only he could confront his other problems so easily. If only he had-

'… I hear you're looking for a partner?"

PS: I haven't been idle all these months; if you want something even more in line with the current 'cheer and hopefulness', check out No Man's Land, which is my take of RWBY flung into the First World War (And for that matter, read some damned history so people like me don't pull our hair out). Yes, I'm plugging my own story. Shut up.