Summer break was a godsend for all the pupils in Foxhunt. They got three months of relaxation, of no worries and no studies, three whole months of doing nothing but partying, spending whole nights out, laughing the days away in a complete lack of care, praying school never starts again.

Jaune however, was a man on a mission. He was glad that school was done for now because of a different reason. Time spent at school was time he didn't spend training. And now, he had all the time he could possibly need.

in surprise of everyone, the phase Jaune entered on his latest birthday hadn't actually been just a phase. Otherwise, he would have stopped two weeks in...not kept going after the fifth month. He had always been a child that couldn't really find something that was his. Always quick to pick up a hobby, but even quicker to discard it, every routine he'd put himself in would fade away in a matter of days, nothing seemed to stick.

So, his mother and father had decided to simply let him be, believing that'd he'd stop at some point. His mother had been worried of injury, but his father had simply said that it would be a valuable lesson.

Now Azure was near catatonic with worry for him, after seeing him come out that blasted warehouse with bloody hands, and acting as if he'd just pricked his finger, not ripped every single one of his callouses after swinging Crocea Mors for hours on end.

His father however, was starting to think that this was his lesson to learn, not Jaune's.

Even his sisters were starting to get worried, incredibly so. Where was their lazy, all-play and no work brother? Sapphire had the largest workload of all considering her job as a shopkeeper, and thus she had been the least seen Arc sibling for ages, but now even she was asking 'where is Jaune?'.

In front of all of their worries, Coal Arc decided that it was the time to have a much needed and much delayed talk with Jaune.

Sat on the front porch in his old but sturdy rocking chair that had belonged to his father before him, he had placed for the first time since forever another chair, and a table next to him.

And with recent changes in mind...On the table could be found a single bottle of Foxhunt Scotch, made from the seeds of the village's labour, and two small glasses. And so he waited, gazing in the distant tree line, beyond the walls of the town, the beautiful visage lit under the broken moon casting a spell on him.

"Dad?" A small voice broke his musings, and Coal figured it was time to get this show on the road.

"Jaune." Thoughts swirled in his head, and he couldn't figure out a way to put them in words, so for now he'd take it slow. "Care for a drink with your old man?" His dark eyes sparkled with amusement, and he realised that he was going to have his first glass with his son. Shaking his head to clear the melancholic thoughts of his own late father, he patted the chair next to his.

Jaune simply looked at him like he was witnessing first hand a miracle, but nonetheless he nodded, climbing the steps of the porch with a visible sway caused by overstrained muscles, and without a moment of hesitation, took the offered chair and sat down at the table.

Coal took those seconds to study his son, seeing the changes he'd went through. Shorter hair that would never fall on his eyes. A broader back, larger arms, he had also grown taller, coming close to Coal's own height, a few inches short from being equal.

But the biggest change that Coal saw, was in the way Jaune held himself. No longer nervous, or better said no longer showing if he was nervous, his slouched figure was gone, replaced with a straight back, shoulders held wide, oozing an air of determination, as if every step was a challenge in on itself and he relished in it. His head was held high, not arrogantly he noted, but the faint air of pride solidified his own thoughts.

Somehow, sometime ago, Jaune started to become a man, and he'd missed every step of the journey so far.

Gripping the bottle he unscrewed the cap, and poured the small glasses full. Picking his up, he stared at Jaune until he did the same, and then with an ease that one shouldn't be proud of, but he was, he threw the shot down his throat, feeling it blaze.

Jaune followed suit, and the burn had to have been too much, but he refused to show it, holding his cough despite the way he was blinking tears.

"Strong, is it?" Jaune nodded, not daring to speak should his throat betray him.

"Son...I'm not one for these discussions, I never really managed to say the right words before, and I don't think I will now, so I'll be answering your questions, I'm sure you're full of them. No bullshit, nothing but the truth." As soon as the words came out, he picked the bottle and filled both their glasses again.

Jaune stared at his, than at him, than he simply slumped into his chair, exhaling slowly.

"Why have this talk now?"

"You're making people worried son." The answer came as fast as the question.

"How?" Jaune was as oblivous as Coal himself used to be.

"Training until your hands are as red as the hands of old Julius ought to be a reason of worry." Coal's own grandfather...now that he answered he realised that that was a can of worms he didn't want to open, seeing as Jaune used the man's blade. "Your mother is going crazy with worry, and so are your sisters."

"Are you saying that I shouldn't train?"

Coal thought of how to answer that particular question, but then he was hit by his own words. No bullshit.

"I'm not saying not to, I'm telling you to take it easy...or to hide the injuries. I know how training can get."

Wide eyed, Jaune seemed surprised...even shocked, so Coal continued his line of thought and decided to fuck the questions, and give everything he knew.

"We Arcs...we have a history Jaune. Huntsmen from birth with no other goal. Always on the front-lines, always at war, either with men, grimm, or ourselves. We picked blades as soon as we could walk, and we kept that tradition for ages. Even you picked a blade, mainly because of my father, but I vowed to never teach you how to swing it." Another glass was emptied and filled.

"Because Jaune...all before me never had a choice. It was the only path for us, the only path we were allowed to take, to burn ourselves out on the field. I broke that cycle, I went in and came out changed, and decided that my children wouldn't live this life. I wanted something good for you, something better than what I had, but in doing so i forgot about your own desires, ignored them, hoping they would simply go away. And I still am" The last part came out as nothing more than a whisper, but it carried over stronger than any battle cry.

"The girls never wanted this life, and I couldn't be happier. But the moment you were brought into the armory walking some of your first steps, I knew that you were different."

Jaune worked through the information, slowly, shaping ideas, reserving judgement for now, and asked away.

"How?"

"Because you picked Crocea Mors." A simple answer delivered with so much emotion behind it that Coal's voice turned raw for a second.

The wind was starting to pick up, and the first drops of rain struck the ground, but neither noticed, even if a stray drop brought by the wind splashed against their arms.

Sighing softly, Coal continued.

"The life of a huntsman isn't all that's cracked up to be. I couldn't be happier doing simple missions in Ansel, seeing my family nearly every day. To nurture something, as opposed to destroying. But you..."

Coal shook his head.

"You want the same thing that I wanted before you son. You have a dream, and you'll fight tooth and nail for it. You won't stop just because I tell you to stop so I'll guide you along the way. I won't train you, because I'm hoping you will change your mind and because I vowed not to, but I'll advise you, and gift you one thing to help you along, tommorow.

Smiling, Coal Arc turned to face his son fully and finished his speech. "I'm your dad...It's what I'm supposed to do."

Jaune still held the frozen expression for a few scant seconds, fully understanding and accepting the situation.

"I guess we're in opposition now, huh?"

Not a second later a grin broke across his face as he pushed his glass for a refill.

Laughter boomed from the porch all night long, as the first rays of sunlight met the merry faces of father and son, so did the first curse words uttered by Azure Arc in nearly forever roll over them, upon discovering them arm-wrestling while barely standing on their chairs, drunk beyond notice.

Inside however...Al three felt warm.