"Dad, when I grow up, I wanna be like you!"

Mathias Arc was a tired man.

"I want to be a Hunter who can fight Grimms and beat all the bad guys!"

A very… tired man.

But despite his worn-out soul, he was willing to make the decision to be a father to eight beautiful kids. Now, he was not supposed to play favorites, but out of all of his kids, Jaune was closest to him. One could say that it was the inevitable result of having a good father and son dynamic.

This boy, who was the middle child of the Arc family, had been brought to this world under interesting circumstances. After his wife gave birth to their fourth daughter, they were convinced that they would have another girl when his wife got pregnant for the fifth time. So imagine their surprise when they learned that they were going to have a boy.

He was ecstatic, his wife even more so and the girls were happy that they were going to get a little brother they could dote on.

When Jaune was born, Mathias was forever changed. The boy that came out of his wife's womb was his son. His own flesh and blood son. Mathias loved his daughters dearly and there was nothing in the world that could prove otherwise, but to see that newborn baby boy who looked so much like him…

It was the first time he had cried ever since his first daughter's birth.

His first four daughters up to that point: Blanc, Noir, Rouge, and Vert had all taken after his wife or so everyone had told. Some of them had inherited parts of him, like the color of his blue eyes and his blonde hair but not both. Jaune, on the other hand, had.

"I'll get to go on missions with other Hunters and be famous!"

This boy who looked so much like him… wanted nothing more than to be like him.

Him.

A Hunter. A warrior. A fighter. A… killer.

Mathias, who had yet to respond to his son's declaration, stared off into the distance where the Arc homestead ended and the sea of endless trees began. Much like the rocky pathway that strayed away from their home, his eyes were shadowed by his past experience.

Compared to the man he was back then, the man he was before he married Claire Arc née de la Croix, he was much different. He was colder, more cynical, and less trusting of others. Yet, at the same time, he had been told he was kinder, more considerate, and trustworthy.

But would he risk it? Should he risk his son becoming like the man he was now?

Jaune, no older than seven, would often accompany his father on the front porch of their homestead. His father would share him stories of his time out there in the field fighting Grimm and dealing with bad guys. His mother had often remarked that they had an odd way of bonding.

Whereas other father and sons would engage in a more active form of bonding like playing catch or even woodworking, Jaune and his dad enjoy the simple yet relaxing activity of cloud gazing on the front porch while sharing stories. Although his dad was the one who mostly did the sharing.

And there was nothing wrong with that! In fact, he preferred it to be like that. There was nothing better than to listen to the stories his dad would tell him. The stories would be different each time, but they would always be about the same thing: his father's experience as a hunter back in his 'glory days'.

Oh, his dad was still a Hunter now. It's just that he isn't like he was 'back in the days', at least that's what he told Jaune. He went on fewer missions; Blanc told him he rarely ever stayed at home back when she was younger. That probably explained why she was never on good terms with their father.

"Jaune."

Jaune, swiveling his head to look at his dad, answers, "Yeah dad?"

"Do you…" Mathias remembered the last time he struggled with his words. It was when he first asked his now-wife out for a date. That was one of the best decisions he ever made in his life. Would this be the same? "Do you really want to be a Hunter?"

His son, as Mathias expected, did not hesitate to rock his head back and forth with a smile so bright it rivaled the sun itself. "Yeah, totally! I wanna be just lik-"

"Jaune."

The young Arc had to cut his excitement short. What caused it was the way his father said his name. Jaune recognized that tone. It's a tone that he and the rest of his sisters were familiar with. Some memories associated with that tone weren't all that pleasant, considering that they would only hear it when either of them was about to be spanked or grounded.

But unlike those occasions, his dad did not look reprimanding. He was just serious as if every word he was about to say was on the National Charter itself. Jaune rarely saw his dad make this kind of face. His dad was always serious, but never to a point where it was pressuring.

"If you want to be a Hunter because you wanted to be like me… then it's better you don't be one at all."

Jaune felt crushed. He did not know what to say. Underneath the roof of their porch, the duo of father and son stared at each other with each of them feeling different things in their hearts. Mathias was not as affected as his son, but that was only because he had more experience controlling his emotions.

"If you want to be a Hunter because you want to be a hero, then I'll be the first to tell you that you'd get just about the same recognition if you work for the fire department." Less risky, too.

"B-But being a Hunter-

"Being a Hunter is a very risky job, Jaune," Mathias told his son, his voice stern yet calm at the same time. "Every day, you risk your life to fight against monsters that wouldn't even hesitate to rip and tear you apart right where you stand. You have to go to some… backwater village in the middle of nowhere and fight horde after horde of monsters, sometimes alone."

"Not to mention, you have to spend a quarter of your life training your life away just to meet the impossible standards set by the people above you. And after that, you will still have to worry about not dying in the middle of a forest and becoming food for the Grimm."

Mathias looked at his son. His now wide-eyed and terrified son. No normal father would look at his son who was making a face like that with such a calm and ordinary expression. But Mathias was willing to forgo normalcy for honesty.

"Those stories I tell to you Jaune… they're all exaggerated." Mathias told his son. "They're like the storybooks mom would read to you and your sisters every night before you kids sleep. They were all based on my experience in the field, sure, but I left out all the bad stuff away so that you wouldn't be scared."

Scared.

Jaune did not know why, but he felt scared. But why? It's not like he's locked in a dark closet or anything. It's not like mom found out he was the one who ate the last cookie in the jar. It's not like he was standing face to face with a... a…

Ah…

So… that's what he meant.

As a ten year old boy, it's normal to be scared of things. Things like the dark, so-called shadow people, getting called to the principal's office so on and so forth. But here in Remnant, a place where things were bloody and rough, the embodiment of fear existed in the flesh.

They were dark and fierce. Some had said they were cold and literally lifeless, lacking in emotion and soul. They stalk the untamed wilderness of Remnant under the form of wild animals, yet lack the survival driven instincts of one at the same time.

They did not kill for food, as they could survive for decades without eating. They did not adhere to the cycle of life, because their bodies scatter like ashes upon death. They did not discriminate on who they kill, for they hunt humans and Faunus alike. They felt no remorse, no pain, and no regret. They kill everyone with a soul, with no exceptions.

What better word to describe them than monsters?

They were the Grimm.

The sum of Remnant's fear.

Five years had passed… and Mathias Arc still questioned whether or not he did the right thing. He told himself that he was willing to forgo being 'normal' if it meant truly showing his son just how cruel and bloody the life of a Hunter was. He wouldn't lie. There was a part of him that hoped that he would dissuade his son by saying all those things five years ago.

In a way, he got what he wished for.

Jaune was not pestering him for stories as much as he used to, although that could be chalked up as him being older and having left the habit behind. The boy also had stopped bursting out into a rant about how he would be a Hunter when he grew up at the dinner table, something that Mathias and the rest of his family were still not used to.

Aside from those, nothing about his son had changed. He still likes his eggs done the same way it had always been, he still asks for stories to tell, and nothing changed when it comes to his performance at school either. Overall, it only seemed his son had just grown… quieter.

Jaune's sisters were quick to dismiss it as a case of puberty. And while his boy had indeed grown, his height and voice were just about the most noticeable features of said growth. Mathias was also a teenager once and although teen angst was nothing but distant memories, he was confident to say it was not the case with Jaune now.

But whatever it was, it had something to do with the conversation they had five years ago.

From the doorway separating their living room and their dining area, Mathias observed his now fifteen-year-old son who was sitting on the leather sofa with a book in his hands. He had a stoic look on his face, not showing any outward sign of emotion.

"...is he still..?"

Turning his head, Mathias's eyes softened when he met his wife face to face. The face of the woman he loved had shown nothing but worry and concern ever since that day. The cause for concern? Their son.

"Oh Mat… I'm worried about him." His wife buried her face into his shoulder as she enveloped him in an embrace. He could feel the warm tears staining the shirt he was wearing, but even more than that, he could feel the hurt in her voice.

His wife was a strong woman. The strongest woman he had ever had the pleasure of knowing. It was that strength that made him fall for her, and that same strength had translated excellently into being a great wife and mother. He said nothing as he embraced his wife closer into his chest, hoping that this sign of reassurance was enough to ease her mind.

However, he knew that it was not the case. How could he? He, himself, was not convinced that what he had done was the right thing. Mathias knew fairly well that while he had done something that was undoubtedly good for his son, it was far from the right thing. Thinking about it, it was he who planted the idea of Hunters and heroes in Jaune's mind. So this whole thing was inevitable if he thought about it.

Even so… it still didn't make him feel right at all.

The average lifespan of a fully licensed Hunter was around 20 to 40 years old. The twenty-year difference may seem big, but if you think about the amount of training a Hunter had to undergo before they could be deployed into the field, it's not that long.

Most aspiring Hunters or Huntresses went to combat school, which usually began after they finished their primary education. Even so, there were still things like private tutors, mentorship, and specialized learning institutions to take into account as most of these allowed for an earlier start to becoming a bulwark against the dark.

So, what does that tell you? Only one thing. Anyone who wanted to be a hunter past the age of 10 better dream other dreams as it's too late to do anything about it.

…

At least that's what it's said in the book I'm reading right now. It's called Hunter: A Guide to Careers. A book I got for myself from a garage sale in town a few years back. It's written by this guy named Fredrick Stellar who, upon further research, happened to be a retired Hunter who had been in the field for more than ten years.

It contained his experience in the field as a Hunter, detailing the common nature of the job and how much of a pain in the ass it was to keep. This book was famous for its non-sophistry and subtle jabs on the current Hunter system, giving critiques while referencing his field experience as examples. It had been dubbed, and rightfully so, as one of the most realistic portrayals of being a Hunter.

You know what? That explained why the reviews on this book were so mixed. Some hated the book for how subjective and depressing it was, while some loved it because it truly showed the current system for what it truly was.

An ultimately cutthroat system that continuously transformed the youths of today into corpses of tomorrow.

Again, those weren't my words; it's in the book.

Now, the question was, did I agree with that statement? No. Absolutely not. But was it wrong entirely? No.

Morbid as it was, there were truths to the saying. There were kids half my age who had already begun training to become Hunters. The motivation to start training at such a young age can be attributed to the necessity of producing more warriors to combat the ever distant threat of Grimm, thus giving the mixed reception on whether or not it was right to sacrifice a childhood for a duty they have to fulfill much later on in their life.

This mixed reception was then reinforced by the fact that not all Hunters, even those who had the opportunity to start their training early, survived their first encounter with the Grimm. The Grimm, being an umbrella term to describe the wide variety of monsters that plague Remnant's wilderness, were notorious for their unfeeling and relentless nature of preying upon those with souls.

However, despite all of this, no one on Remnant could deny that society would not be where they were today if it wasn't for the same kids who'd had their childhood seemingly set aside into the back burner to prepare themselves for the fight against the darkness that lurks. The presence of Hunters contributed to the survival of many growing small-town settlements much like the one I'm living at.

So, all in all, it might come across as your typical 'the system's fucked me up, so fuck the system' case, but in truth, I think it goes further than that.

[Oh, another book for the day? Ah, it's a different one from yesterday's, I see.]

I had to refrain from making myself look even more out of character. I swear, my family's beginning to suspect me of being someone else. My sisters have been giving weird looks, even mom and dad were looking at me strangely!

[Let's see here… ah, yes, to see someone feel so strongly against the current authoritative structure of society never fails to amuse me. It is amusing because no matter how they abhor how things are, in reality, they themselves could not live without the very thing they hate.]

He… It… called itself Crocea Mors.

[Why back then, when I was still under the employ of your ancestor, we did not have the luxury to publish a self-written book about the honorable work we do to keep the creatures of darkness at bay from tearing our sons and daughters apart!]

I just call him Morty.

[Do you know what we do to pass the time, master? We train! We train ourselves by slaying Grimm to the point where our bodies were numb! And yes, even my non-organic vessel could feel the numbness after I cut, hack and slash through hundreds of Grimm while being wielded by your ancestor's hands!]

Please… stop…

[I tell you-!

I shut the book I was reading with such force that the sound of it clasping together echoed the living room. I had to look around, making sure no one saw me. I didn't want my family to think I'm going through a very weird phase of my-

"Son."

-nevermind.

I could feel my body freezing when I heard the voice of a person I know all too well. "Yes, dad?" I said lamely, unable to stop my voice from committing the most epic and cringe-worthy voice crack that a teenager had ever done. Oh, Oum, mom's here too!

"Your mother and I… we… would like to talk to you if that's alright with you?" Mathias asked.

I tried to not look anxious. Had they figured out that Morty had been talking to me all this time? If so, what are they going to do to me? Aaah! Calm down Jaune, calm down…

"S-Sure." I coughed, setting the book aside on the armrest next to me. "So, what do you wanna talk about dad, mom?"

"Jaune, we're…" Claire spoke up, having recovered from the waterworks from earlier, "...wondering if there's something we can do for you."

Huh? What? What the heck? "Huh?"

"It's just… lately," Claire took a deep breath, "it seems that you've been different. Is there anything bothering you? If so, you can tell us you know? We're your parents."

Oh… oh no. Did they know? No, no. They couldn't have. I've done my best to make sure that they don't know what I've been up to for the past five years. They couldn't have figured it out?

...could they?

"Son," Mathias started, garnering my attention, "your mother and I are just worried about you. These past few… days, it seems you've been so engrossed with something. Remember last night?"

"Last night?"

"Yes. I asked you whether or not you want Pumpkin Pete's while we were out for groceries in town and you told me no."

"So? What's wrong with that?"

Both my father and mother simply gestured to me. Or rather, the thing I'm wearing. A cartoon drawing of a smiling rabbit stared back at me as I pulled at my hoodie.

"Okay, sure, but nothing's wrong with that," I said, "I just want to cut down on sugar. What's the big deal?"

"Jaune," Claire spoke up this time, looking worriedly at her boy, "you're the only one on Remnant who entered that contest. No one else bought one hundred boxes of cereal just so they could win that hoodie."

Ooookay, they got me there. Damn. It was Morty's idea to cut down sugar, saying that repetitive consumption of sugar in that amount wasn't healthy for an aspiring Hunter. It took me a lot of convincing, but I managed to get out of the habit entirely. It just took five years. Even then, I swear I still have withdrawals.

"Not to mention, you've been coming home later than usual for the past years." Mathias chimed in. "Have you found something to do in town? Did you get into trouble?"

Oh shit, how am I gonna answer this…

[I would omit to reveal your training to your patrons, master.]

Gee, why didn't I think of that before…

[Simply because you are nowhere near a level where they could be proud of you yet! But no worries, with my advice, you shall be the greatest Arc heir to have ever existed in this century!]

No, no! I don't want them to find out at all, at least not so soon! So much for 'helping' me, uggh.

"No, dad, nothing like that." I had to answer him at some point. "I've just been… exploring, you see. Figuring out what I want to do for the future, you know?"

This answer was probably the one closest to the truth. I don't think I could straight-up lie to my father. He knew me too well. And not to mention mom. But I do feel guilty of hiding so much from them. But I've told myself countless times before, it was necessary. If I wanted to make my dream come true, lying was necessary.

My answer seemed to have calmed them down a little bit, as they look more understanding now than they did a few minutes ago. "I see. So, what do you want to do for the future?" Claire asked.

"Well, the standard affair." I shrugged. "Get a part-time job, save enough money, move out of the house, and all that."

Mathias raised an eyebrow. "Move out of the house? Do you know where you'll move out to?"

"Vale."

"That's," Claire started, "reasonable. It's not too far, and some of your sisters are living in Vale. Still, is that all?"

The question mom was asking hold weight to them. I am omitting information, which is the same if not worse than lying. Oum…

No. I've made up my mind.

"Please… I want to be a Hunter… I'll do anything."

Images of him being torn apart by Grimm of various sizes and shapes played in his mind.

"E-Even if it's hard. Even though it sounds like suicide… I want to be a Hunter!"

Why? Why? Why?Why?Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy?

"It's because I… I…"

'If you want to be a Hunter because you wanted to be like me… then it's better you don't be one at all.'

'Every day, you risk your life to fight against monsters that wouldn't even hesitate to rip and tear you apart right where you stand. You have to go to some… backwater village in the middle of nowhere and fight horde after horde of monsters, sometimes alone.'

'Those stories I tell to you Jaune… they're all exaggerated.'

"I… I want to…"

A man, who had all but lost his faith in a system that was meant to protect the people around him. The same man who used to be someone who was supposed to work with the system and found himself worn-down and scarred in return.

Could such a man be considered a happy one?

If life's ultimate goal was to live a happy and fulfilling life, then does that mean no one alive right now could pass on without regret?

What if you want more than just a happy life? What if fulfillment is beyond being happy? Does that mean you're too greedy if you want to be both happy and fulfilled at the same time?

The same man who had faced all the darkness in the world and survived its fiercest and cruelest trials, should he be happy simply because he didn't turn up dead?

"No… I don't want to…"

The hilt of a long-forgotten relic felt cold to the touch, biting away at the warmth that protected his skin.

"I need to be a Hunter."

His Aura manifest.

"I need to protect my family."

His soul burns.

"I need to show him… show him that what he's been doing all this time is something worth being happy for. I need to show him that he has the right to be proud of being the man he is. I need to show him that… that he isn't sending his son to death by following in his footsteps!"

Sword and Sheath. A relic older than the history of man. Never conforming to one form and always go by a different name each time.

Crocea Mors.

The infamous Yellow Death. The All-Killer. The Bane of Kings. The-

"Jaune? Jaune?"

I…

"Jaune? Is something wrong?"

The look on my parent's faces would normally make me nervous. Being the middle child in a family of eight was not easy. Sometimes, you have to be understanding and make a few sacrifices that no other kids would understand. Even if it's something as getting the lower bunk of the bunk bed or getting the smallest portion of the desert.

I think being born a boy in a family where all of your siblings are girls can be seen as some form of luck, as I'm not as forgettable that way. Though it didn't stop my sisters from dressing me up as one.

Ah, I must look weird laughing to myself.

I better start speaking before they start suspecting even more of me.

"Mom, dad." I spoke. "I want to be a Hunter."

I didn't have to look at their faces to see the look of surprise.

"I know it'll be hard. I know it's dangerous. But I promise I will make you proud."

I know I don't have to be a Hunter in order for them to be proud of me. But this goes beyond pride. I want- need to show my dad that he can still be proud of himself. I want him to know that there's someone out there who appreciates what he does! I want him… to be able to look back on those days and still be able to smile at the same time.

Because whenever he would tell me stories about his job, he rarely did so.

[Your father is a man who has peered into the abyss. He did not like what he saw and so he regretted ever looking in the first place. It's only due to your mother, and later his kids, that he can still remain sane.]

[Our foe is cruel, master. It is the embodiment of things we find vile, repulsive, and fearful. Even if It may not harm our physical faculties, It can still damage what's inside. This is the horror that we face daily. A horror so horrific it kills good men and leaves behind broken ones in its wake.]

"I… have been training myself these past few years. That might explain why I've been acting differently." It does, but not quite. "I know what you told me that day, dad. And I thought long and hard about it. But… I don't think I'll regret saying I fight Grimm for a living to my kids later on."

There, I said it. It might not be the full truth, in fact it's far from it, but it is close enough for me to speak comfortably about it to them.

"Jaune." Mathias spoke. "Is that what you really want?" Is he disappointed in me? Have I said something wrong?

"Yes. More than anything else."

I looked at my father in the eyes. The very same eyes that I've inherited. For a moment, I thought I could see something in those eyes, but I thought wrong. Those eyes were reflecting me. Then, he closed his eyes.

"Tomorrow…"

Tomorrow?

"Tomorrow, I'll be waiting outside the house at exactly 0400 hours." After saying that, my dad left the living room. He went through the kitchen and exited the house from the backdoor into the backyard.

Uneasy, I looked at my mom only to find her with tears flowing down her beautiful face.

"Mom…? Did I…?" I wasn't able to complete my question. My mom wrapped me into a tight hug, a warm hug. I could feel her body shaking against my own as well as the tears staining my shoulder.

Let her embrace you, master. A mother's love is greater than life itself. Just as you are willing to be selfish, let her do the same in return. It is only fair.

...right.

I hugged her back, even as she cried into my shoulder.

Hey, uh, so welcome to my very first ever published fiction work. It's a cross-post from SpaceBattles, so feel free to check it out over there. Got the idea for it a few days ago during quarantine and managed to whip out a quick storyline on how things will go from here onwards. But here's the deal, I've never watched RWBY. At least not past Vol.3. And, no, I won't watch it; even if it's probably the best thing to do.

So, I'll go along with my guidelines while simultaneously reading the wiki (the only place where RWBY knowledge can be attained yet still somehow remain confusing) and consult from there. And what's that? Canon? Oh, it's going to be murdered. Again, check out the story on SpaceBattles. I'll appreciate anyone who wants to lend a helping hand with this story, just PM me.

Oh, and sorry for any bad grammar or whatnot. English isn't my first language, yet strangely, I and 80% of those on this site sure love writing it. Reviews are very much appreciated, but please, no flame. I wanna shine, not burn.

Edit: Fanfiction is very bad at formatting documents. I don't know why it failed to do so. So, it's fixed.