SAPR

by Scipio Smith

The Happy Return (Rewrite)

Professor Ozpin was waiting for them at the docking bay as the Altesian airships approached the school. A tall, broad-shouldered man in an Atlesian uniform stood beside him, and Jaune wondered – guessed, to be more accurate – that this was General Ironwood; with him were a woman in white who looked like an older Weiss and a large number of Atlesian soldiers with their faces hidden behind the visors of their helmets.
“Nice to have a welcoming committee,” Torchwick said as the airships descended with open doors. The corners of his lips twitched upwards. “I remember when I was given the freedom of Lower Cairn, the mayor dragged me up in front of the whole town-”
“Unless he dragged you up in front of the whole town so that you could be pelted with rotten fruit, I don’t believe it,” Sunset snapped. “Nora’s stories are more believable than yours, and they break the laws of physics.”
“I went to a Mystery Spot once, if that counts,” Torchwick said.
Sunset rolled her eyes.
They had four prisoners: Torchwick, Neo, Billie, and the pilot of the paladin Pyrrha had taken apart, whom Blake didn’t recognise and who wouldn’t give his name. They were all in specially-designed Atlesian handcuffs that suppressed aura… somehow; Twilight had tried to explain how it worked to them, but the only ones who actually seemed to follow what she was saying were Sunset and Ciel. It was kind of creepy that they had tech that could just stop your aura like that, even if he could see why they needed it with prisoners like this Torchwick guy, but still… creepy that they just turn your aura off and leave you vulnerable like… like that poor guy.
Jaune shook his head. Anyway, the point was that they had four prisoners divided between the two Atlesian airships just like the two teams: Team SAPR had the pleasure of Torchwick and Neo’s company, while Team RSPT and Blake were in the other airship with the two White Fang captives.
The airships touched down upon the spacious docking pad; it was large enough for much bigger civilian or military airships, so it was certainly big enough for the two craft which had carried them home from the Forever Fall Forest.
Roman Torchwick was the first one out, leaping down from the airship before Sunset could push him out. Neo followed quickly. Meanwhile, it seemed that Rainbow was having to physically coerce the two White Fang prisoners out onto the docking pad.
“Get your hands off me, traitor!” Billie growled.
“Traitor, traitor, always traitor,” Rainbow snapped. “Give it a rest, why don’t you?”
The two huntsman teams dismounted and either followed or forced their prisoners across the docking pad to where what Torchwick had, not entirely inaccurately, called their welcoming committee was waiting for them.
“Roman Torchwick,” General Ironwood growled in a voice that was dripping with contempt.
“General Ironwood himself come down from on high to meet me,” Torchwick replied. “I’m flattered. I don’t suppose this would be a good time to ask for my lawyer? Or maybe my phone call?”
General Ironwood did not look impressed. He raised his voice so that all four of the prisoners could hear him. “Considering that you’ve already escaped from Valish custody once, I’ve decided to hold you on my flagship for the time being; as a terrorist under military custody, you don’t enjoy the rights afforded to common criminals. I can hold you for as long as I like, in whatever conditions I choose.”
“You know,” Torchwick said, “I’m pretty sure that my lawyer would have a field day with this… if I actually had a lawyer. Let me guess: cooperate, and I’ll get an easier time of it.”
“We do have a number of inquiries we were hoping you might help us with,” Professor Ozpin agreed mildly.
“Well, when you put it like that,” Torchwick said, “I’ll have to think it over.”
“You’ll have nothing to do but think,” General Ironwood said. “Schnee, escort our new guests to their cells aboard the Valiant.”
“Yes, sir,” the older Weiss declared, clicking her heels together as she stood to attention. “First Squad, with me!”
“Get off the airship, get back on the airship,” Torchwick muttered, as he was hustled straight back the way that he and his fellow captives had just come. “Still, it was nice to get the chance to stretch my legs.”
The general turned his attention to Team RSPT, who all snapped to attention when his gaze fell upon them. Blake stood just a little behind them, looking uncertain as to whether she ought to stand to attention or not. Rainbow Dash saluted, a gesture which the general returned.
“Good work, Dash,” General Ironwood said. “You’ve dealt a heavy blow to the White Fang’s operations. Depending on what information we can get out of those four, we might be able to follow up with something even heavier.”
“Thank you, sir,” Rainbow Dash acknowledged. “I’m sorry that we let Adam Taurus get away from us again.”
“Was aerial reconnaissance able to locate the stolen engine, sir?” Ciel asked.
“No,” General Ironwood admitted. “The truth is that there are disused and derelict railway lines all over rural Vale, built to serve settlements that fell or were abandoned; the White Fang probably diverted the engine onto one of those, and the overgrown nature of the Forever Fall makes aerial recon difficult. But engines are far less important to me than weapons and war machines,” he went on, in a more robust tone. “You safeguarded all the Atlas Military’s property and took prisoners; you accomplished everything the operation was designed to achieve. And besides, there are worse things than having an enemy flee in terror at your coming. Your performance wasn’t perfect, and I expect your report to outline all of your mistakes and the things you should have done instead, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be proud of what you did achieve.”
“Yes, sir,” Rainbow said. “But we didn’t do it alone.”
“Indeed. Welcome back, Miss Shimmer, all of you,” Professor Ozpin said with a genial smile upon his face. “I’m glad to see that you were able to help get the railroad north back up and running.” His smile faded. “I am sorry to hear that you ran into so much trouble on your way back.”
Sunset’s face gave nothing away. “You did tell us we could return at our own leisure, Professor,” she said.
“Indeed. Nevertheless, I am sorry to hear about your injury,” Professor Ozpin replied.
Sunset clenched her scarred hand into a fist. “I’m fine, Professor, thank you,” she said, softly and with a trace of a chill in her voice.
“I’m sure you are, Miss Shimmer,” Professor Ozpin said mildly. “Mister Arc,” he added, turning his gaze on Jaune.
Jaune had the uncomfortable impression that he was being seen right through. It was all he could do not to take a step back. “Yes, Professor?”
“Amongst her many considerable talents, Professor Goodwitch is also a fully qualified therapist,” Professor Ozpin informed him. “And she has the advantage of her services being completely free to all students. I recommend you book some time with her.”
Jaune glanced at Sunset. Had she told Professor Ozpin already? But she didn’t even trust the Headmaster, and she was already talking to him about what had happened to Jaune?
“I… thank you, Professor,” Jaune murmured. “I’ll think it over.”
“Please do, Mister Arc,” Professor Ozpin said gravely. “Some people are fated to suffer alone, but none should voluntarily seek to do so.” He fell silent for a moment. “In any case, I am sure that you are all tired from your mission. In view of what you’ve been through, you needn’t worry about the rest of the week’s classes.”
“That’s not necessary, Professor,” Sunset said.
“I decide what is necessary and what isn’t within this school, Miss Shimmer,” Professor Ozpin replied. His voice was mild, but the rebuke was unmistakable.
Sunset sucked in a sharp intake of breath. “Yes, Professor.”
“Now then, General,” Professor Ozpin said, turning to General Ironwood, “if you would repair with me to my office, I think that we should inform the First Councillor of Mister Torchwick’s arrest.”
“Of course, Professor,” General Ironwood said, and the two men turned away and began to walk back down the path towards the school.
The students, having no desire to follow too hard upon the heels of their teachers, lingered on the docking pad as the airships carrying the prisoners took off, soaring through the sky towards one of the Atlesian cruisers that hovered in the skies over Vale.
“So,” Penny asked, “does that mean that we get a week off, too?”
“Yep,” Rainbow replied. She stretched out her arms and clasped them behind her head. “One week of doing whatever we want.”
“Whether we want it or not,” Blake muttered.
Rainbow turned her head to look at Blake, still stood behind the line of the Rosepetals, but she said nothing about it.
“We have a week in which we’re not attending classes,” Pyrrha corrected everyone. “Nothing that Professor Ozpin said indicates that we have to do absolutely nothing. We could take the opportunity to work on our coursework.”
“Some of you could,” Sunset replied. “My study partner still has to attend class.”
“Oh,” Pyrrha murmured. “Yes, of course, Cinder. Well, I’m sure that a break will do… some of us a great deal of good.”
Blake let out a soft harrumph which everyone either didn’t notice or didn’t care to acknowledge; personally, Jaune wasn’t sure what her problem was. A week off didn’t seem so bad, so long as they spent the whole time sleeping in.
Pyrrha wouldn’t let him do that even if he wanted to.
He hoped she wouldn’t, anyway. Just because he’d had a bit of a rough time of it with this mission didn’t mean that he wanted to be treated with kid gloves.
He was still there. He wanted to still be there. If he hadn’t been here, then Sunset and Twilight might – maybe even would – have died at Adam’s hands. Pyrrha wouldn’t have been able to move the train without his semblance powering her up, and without him, it might be that no one would have had the idea to try.
He wasn’t the big hero like his great-great grandfather had been, but that didn’t mean that this team, these friends, didn’t need him.
He wanted to be here. He wanted to help them, to stand alongside them, to fight with Pyrrha… except that he also…
Except that he couldn’t get that guy’s face out of his head.
“So,” Rainbow said, and she started to walk down the road towards the courtyard, giving the rest of the group little choice but to follow along with her, “does anyone have any ideas as to what they’re going to do for the rest of the day?”
“I might see if I can get into the last classes before dinner,” Blake said.
Rainbow snorted. “You think the professors don’t know that you’ve been given the week off? They’re like the first people who will have been told that.”
“Although I’m not sure Professor Port will notice,” Sunset said.
“Professor Goodwitch certainly will,” Pyrrha insisted.
“Unfortunately, as it’s her classes that we need the most,” Sunset declared.
“Yes, well,” Pyrrha murmured. “Jaune, are you going to go and see Professor Goodwitch?”
Jaune winced. Just because the question was obvious didn’t mean it wasn’t also unfortunate. “I… I meant what I said to Professor Ozpin: I’m going to think about it.”
Pyrrha pursed her lips together. He could tell that his answer wasn’t really what she had wanted to hear, but at the same time… it was the only answer that he could give her right now.
“Well, alright,” she said softly.
He looked away from her. She was just trying to help, but at the same time, this really wasn’t something that she could help him with.
It wasn’t something that any of them could help him with, no matter how much they might want to.
“I… I think I’m going to go down to the farm for a little bit,” he said. “Pyrrha, would you mind taking my stuff back to my room for me?”
“Um, of course,” Pyrrha said quietly.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Ruby asked. “We could feed the chickens together?”
Jaune looked down at her and managed to smile at her a little even, though he didn’t really feel much like smiling. “Thanks, Ruby, but I’d rather be alone right now if that’s okay.”
The way that her face fell cut him a little, but not enough to alter his resolve. There was nothing they could do to help him with this.
“Oh,” Ruby said disconsolately. “Well… we’ll see you later, then.”
Jaune nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Later.”
He left the rest of them, turning off the path and setting off across the more uneven ground on either side of it towards the farm. He passed the columns that ringed the courtyard; he passed beneath some of the trees that grew in their well-tended beds; he kept far away from the huntsman statue that would have mocked him if he had strayed too close to it, because of course that guy had never suffered any qualms about killing people, Jaune was sure. He walked around the edge of the school grounds, and thanks to classes being in session, he encountered nobody until he reached the farm.
Even at the farm, there was no one there, unless you counted the chickens themselves, who squawked and clucked and generally made enough noise that it didn’t seem lonely here. But it was a comfortable sort of noise, the kind of noise that didn’t bother him because it wasn’t asking him questions, it wasn’t trying to help him come to terms with anything, it wasn’t telling him that he should go and see Professor Goodwitch.
They just clucked as they flocked around him, and as Jaune grabbed a bag of chickenfeed from out of the storage shed at the edge of the farm and carried it into the fenced-off enclosure, they flocked all around him, flapping their pointless wings and clucking excitedly at the prospect of food.
A sigh escaped from Jaune’s lips as he knelt down amongst the flock of birds and reached into the burlap sack, gathering a handful of feed in the palm of his hand and throwing it out amongst the chickens. They scattered excitedly, falling upon the bounty he had spread before them even as he pulled more feed out of his bag to add to it.
“What should I do, guys?” Jaune asked. “What am I supposed to do next?”
“Why don’t you ask someone who can answer back?” Rainbow Dash asked.
Jaune turned around quickly, so quickly that he nearly lost his balance and wobbled unsteadily in place; the leader of Team RSPT stood on the other side of the chickenwire fence, one gloved hand resting upon a wooden post, watching him.
“Rainbow Dash,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“I can appreciate a good farm,” Rainbow informed her. “I’ve spent enough time on Applejack’s farm, after all. And Fluttershy has a chicken coop of her own out back.”
“Really,” Jaune said, evenly and without much interest.
Rainbow nodded. “Me and Applejack helped build it for her. Well, Applejack built it; I just fetched wood for her,” she admitted. She paused. “Of course, thanks to Fluttershy’s semblance, the chickens can answer back. I’m not sure that’s true in your case.”
“You did hear me tell Ruby that I wanted to be alone, right?” Jaune asked.
“Yeah, I heard,” Rainbow said. “I just ignored you.”
“Right,” Jaune muttered. “Why?”
Rainbow straightened up and leapt over the chickenwire fence. Some of the chickens clucked in alarm and retreated away from her a little bit. She didn’t seem to notice. “Some people,” Rainbow said, in a tone that left very little doubt as to who those people were that she was referring to, “are treating this week off as though we’re getting put on the bench. But that’s not true. We’re getting some time off, but the week will end. There’ll be another time. The question is, when that time comes, are you going to be there?”
Jaune didn’t reply. He looked away from Rainbow Dash and spread out some more chickenfeed across the yard.
“You’re going to make them fat if you feed them too much,” Rainbow pointed out.
She was right, unfortunately. Jaune huffed. “What do you want?”
“I want to talk.”
“Well, I don’t,” Jaune said sharply. He sighed. “Sorry, I just… I don’t need to be coddled about this.”
“Who says I’m going to coddle you?”
“Well, you kind of coddle Twilight,” Jaune pointed out. “A lot.”
“I do not coddle Twilight,” Rainbow declared in an aggrieved tone, planting her fists upon her hips.
“Yeah, you do,” Jaune replied.
“I do not!”
Jaune stood up. “I grew up with six older sisters, and now I have Pyrrha and Ruby; I know what being coddled looks like when I see it.”
Rainbow’s eyes bulged a little. “Well… Twilight needs it!” she said loudly. She huffed. “Do you really think so?”
Jaune nodded.
“Do you think I ought to do something about it?”
Jaune shrugged. “Does she have a problem with it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t even realise I was doing it.”
“Maybe you should talk to her about it,” Jaune suggested. “Instead of talking to me.”
Rainbow laughed. “You’re not getting out of this that easily,” she said.
“Have you ever killed anyone before?” Jaune asked.
Rainbow was silent for a moment. “Maybe,” she said.
“You don’t know?” Jaune demanded incredulously.
“It was a very confused situation,” Rainbow explained.
“The, uh, the wedding, right?” Jaune said, more quietly now.
“Yeah,” Rainbow said, her voice a little hoarse. “The wedding. I got a gun; I started shooting. I mainly wanted to keep their heads down while my friends got to shelter, but… I know I hit some people. Maybe I… I gotta admit, I didn’t ask for sure.”
“I can see why,” Jaune murmured. He looked down at the chickens milling around his feet. “When I came to Beacon, I wanted…” He hesitated, unsure of how saying this would make him look in front of Rainbow Dash, the experienced warrior. “I wanted to be a hero.”
“And heroes don’t kill people,” Rainbow finished for him. One corner of her lip twitched. “I get it. Daring Do never kills anyone, and neither do the Power People. It’s just… not what heroes do.”
“Is this where you tell me that we’re not heroes?” Jaune asked.
“I’m a hero to a twelve-year-old girl back in Canterlot who thinks I’m the greatest,” Rainbow replied. “And you’re a hero to the Champion of Mistral; isn’t that enough?”
Jaune laughed self-deprecatingly. “I’m not Pyrrha’s hero.”
“You could have fooled me,” Rainbow said. “You’ve seen me coddling Twilight; I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”
Jaune shook his head. “But… but she’s Pyrrha! How can I possibly-?”
“Because not everyone needs their hero to be Zapp or Millisecond,” Rainbow told him. “Sometimes… sometimes, it’s enough to be there for them when no one else is.”
“I guess,” Jaune murmured. “But that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I came here.”
Rainbow snorted. “This is the part where I tell you that there are no heroes. Not like the ones that we read about, anyway.” She paused, looking down at the chickens all around them. “You know why they need a fence?”
“I grew up on a farm,” Jaune informed her. “I know why they need a fence. It’s to keep the foxes out and stop the chickens from wandering off.”
Rainbow nodded. “Because they’re helpless if a fox does get in amongst them. Except…”
Jaune frowned. “Except?”
“I’ve sometimes wondered what would happen if I took one of these little guys and unlocked its aura,” Rainbow mused. “Fluttershy wouldn’t let me try it, and I suppose I can get why, but at the same time… why not? Wouldn’t it just make them awesome? It might even make them so awesome that they wouldn’t need a chickenwire fence because they could kick the ass of any fox who came around.”
“Where are you going with this?” demanded Jaune.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Rainbow asked. “We’re chickens with aura! And it makes us awesome, awesome enough to protect the coop and fight the foxes and keep everyone safe… but it doesn’t make us comic book heroes. Those kinds of heroes don’t make mistakes.”
“But we do,” Jaune said.
“All the time,” Rainbow replied. “The point is… the point is… the point is… where was I going with this?”
“I don’t know,” Jaune admitted. “If you were going to tell me not to worry about it-”
“I know that you can’t just not worry about it; I’m trying to tell you to go see Professor Goodwitch for some therapy,” Rainbow interrupted sharply.
Jaune frowned. “How were you going to get there from chickens with aura?”
“Well, when you say it out loud, it sounds stupid,” Rainbow said grumpily. “Why don’t you want to see a therapist?”
“I… I don’t want to… I don’t want to feel like a failure,” Jaune confessed. “It feels like… I already know that I’m weaker than the three of them; do I have to prove it by needing to talk about my problems?”
“So instead, you’re going to… what?” Rainbow demanded. “You can’t walk away from them, and you can’t keep them inside you either.”
“Why not? Isn’t that what everyone else does?” Jaune demanded.
Rainbow was silent for a moment. She turned away, resting her hands upon the wooden post. “I get it,” she said. “I really get it. After the wedding… Twilight started seeing a therapist. She thought it would be good for me too, but… I was too… too like you, I guess. I thought it would make me look… I thought that I needed to be strong, to be tough. I thought I needed to show General Ironwood that I could handle it. Only, I couldn’t handle it, and I’m not talking about what happened with Blake here, either, although I didn’t handle that great either. I’m talking about… I got jumpy, suspicious; I saw the White Fang everywhere I looked.”
“So what did you do?” Jaune asked.
“I started seeing a therapist without telling Twilight about it,” Rainbow answered. “I didn’t want to admit that I was wrong, but… I was wrong.”
Jaune was silent for a moment. “And you think that I should do the same?”
“Do you want to stay here?” Rainbow demanded. “Now that you know what this is really like, do you want to stay?”
“Yes,” Jaune said firmly, emphatically. “Because the missions… they’re not going to stop, are they?”
Rainbow turned to face him and shook her head. “No. They’ll keep going as long as the grimm exist.”
Jaune bowed his head. “If… this might sound stupid, but… if Pyrrha or Ruby or Sunset… if one of them… if all of them… if they didn’t come back because I wasn’t with them, then… then I don’t think I could live with myself.”
“Then go and talk to Professor Goodwitch,” Rainbow urged, “and make sure that you can live with yourself. You don’t have to tell your team about it, but… you need to talk to someone.”
Jaune closed his eyes, and the face of the dead man flashed before them. “I think… you might be right.”

“So, you undertook to hold a Valish citizen aboard an Atlesian warship?” First Councillor Novo demanded, leaning forward so that her face filled even more of the holographic screen. “And now you’re refusing to hand him over to Valish custody?”
“With respect, Madam Councillor-”
“Don’t tell me ‘with respect’ when you’re showing me no respect whatsoever, General,” Councillor Novo snapped. “Lately, you’ve shown me and Vale nothing but disrespect.”
Ironwood stood behind Ozpin’s desk, his hands clasped behind his back. “Roman Torchwick has already escaped from Valish custody once, and in record time. He’ll find getting off an Atlesian man-of-war much more difficult, I assure you.”
“That may be, General, but the fact remains that he is a Valish criminal; I would have liked the Valish authorities to have gotten at least some credit for apprehending him, but as things stand-”
“As things stand, Madam Councillor, Beacon’s Team Sapphire was as fully involved in the capture of these fugitives as Atlas’ Team Rosepetal,” Ozpin slid smoothly into the conversation.”
“Ah, yes, Team Sapphire,” Councillor Novo replied. “The team that is led by an Atlesian and whose star is the Champion of Mistral.”
“I have it on multiple authorities that Sunset Shimmer is not an Atlesian,” corrected Ironwood. “She merely lived in the kingdom while attending combat school.”
“A distinction without a difference then,” summarized Novo.
“Fine credits to Beacon Academy and to the quality of an education here in Vale, nonetheless,” Ozpin said. “Personally, I think it is a great advertisement to our kingdom that so many talented students choose to come from abroad to study here with us.”
“Not everyone would agree with you, but I take your point,” Councillor Novo conceded. “But the fact remains that I wish that you had consulted with me before you decided to launch this little sting operation.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage to claim a share of the credit regardless, Madam Councillor,” Ozpin said.
“Very droll, Ozpin,” Councillor Novo replied in a tone as dry as dust.
“We were afraid that any leak of our plans might compromise the operation,” Ironwood explained. “Which was why trainees were used instead of regular units; their activities could be disguised under the pretence of training missions.”
“I hope you’re not suggesting that anyone in my office would leak to the White Fang, General,” Councillor Novo said.
“I’m suggesting that careless talk costs lives, Madam Councillor,” Ironwood said diplomatically.
“Hmm,” Councillor Novo murmured. “I don’t suppose you’d be any more amenable to your students participating in a photo op now than you were after the incident at the docks, Ozpin?”
“Madam Councillor,” Ozpin said carefully, “during the course of this mission my students went through some rather harrowing experiences. I really don’t think that they’ll be in the mood.”
Councillor Novo frowned. “'Harrowing experiences'?”
“One of the students nearly died,” Ozpin admitted.
Councillor Novo’s frown deepened. “Gods,” she murmured. “Do you really think that it was wise of you to use children for an operation like this?”
Ozpin sighed. “Truth to tell, Madam Councillor, I am not sure. What I am sure of is that the students in question undertook this task of their own free will, with no coaxing or coercion on my part.”
“Of course they did; they’re children,” Councillor Novo snorted. “You’re supposed to restrain them with the wisdom of an elder. Isn’t that part of your job?”
“My job is to arm them against the darkness that surrounds us all,” Ozpin said.
“Not to wield them as weapons before they are tempered!” Councillor Novo declared.
“I would not have offered this mission if I hadn’t believed that my students were ready,” Ozpin said. “I still believe that they were – and are – ready; after all, although they might have come through the fire, they emerged out the other side victorious.”
That did not mean, of course, that he did not feel a certain sense of guilt for the way that he had behaved. He feared that Miss Shimmer – whose distrust was not so well hidden in her eyes as she might like to think – was not so wrong about him as he should like. He had dangled a mission before them so that they could go to Cold Harbour and assist Team RSPT; perhaps, as Novo suggested, he should have acted to restrain their enthusiasm rather than enabling it. He had told Glynda that he wished to give them a little more time to be children, without involving themselves in his schemes and his war, but the truth was that he had gotten them involved in that same war, if only on the periphery of it. He had involved them without even the decency of telling them the truth about the war they were engaged in.
He could mount a defence against these charges, rooted in Miss Belladonna’s reckless enthusiasm and need to act and the commendable willingness of her friends on Team SAPR to support her in that, but at the same time… it all left a somewhat sour taste in his mouth.
And he had only himself to blame.
Is it my place to stand in the way of their valour?
Is it my place to throw them into the fire before their time?
“I see,” Councillor Novo said, her voice quietening. Her expression softened, becoming more concerned than upset. “Do you have any similarly challenging missions lined up for Team Wisteria, may I ask?”
“Not at present,” Ozpin said. “And probably not ever. Team Wisteria’s training missions will almost certainly be more in line with what one would expect of the name.”
“I don’t suppose I can persuade you to give them something… low risk?”
“I would hardly be preparing them for lives as huntsmen if I did that, Madam Councillor.”
“Do you actually believe that Cardin Winchester is going to spend the rest of his life as a huntsman?” Councillor Novo demanded.
“I couldn’t say, but it is my duty to teach him as though he will,” Ozpin replied.
Councillor Novo let out a very soft ‘harrumph’. “My daughter is very fond of him,” she said.
“Indeed, Madam Councillor,” Ozpin said neutrally.
“Skystar… doesn’t give much thought to politics; it doesn’t matter to her that he’s a Winchester and that his grandfather is one of my closest allies,” Councillor Novo said. “She’s simply fond of him.” She affixed Ozpin on the end of her glare. “I don’t want her to wear black before she’s worn white.”
“I sincerely hope that all of my students will live to see graduation, Madam Councillor,” Ozpin declared.
“And I hope that you can do a little better than hope,” Councillor Novo said. She turned her attention to Ironwood once more. “General, I will consent to you retaining custody of Roman Torchwick without further protest, but if he gives you any leads, I expect you to pass them on the VPD or Professor Ozpin; I can’t have your troops running around the city breaking down doors and gunning people down in the street without reference to our Valish authorities.”
“Of course, Madam Councillor. I’ll let you know the minute he talks,” Ironwood said.
“Thank you, General, for finally showing a little of that respect,” Councillor Novo said. “Good day to the both of you and pass my congratulations on to all the students.”

There was a White Fang symbol painted on their dorm room door.
It was their door. Their dorm room door. The door into Team SAPR’s room.
And someone, some… someone absolutely indescribable in terms that an Equestrian gentlemare ought to know, had painted a White Fang emblem on it.
“You know,” Ruby ventured. “It’s so badly painted, it’s kind of hard to tell what it is.”
Sunset sucked in a sharp intake of breath. “Don’t lie, Ruby,” she said in a voice that was sharp and cold for all its quietness. “We all know exactly what that is.”
Blake looked away. “I’m sorry, you guys.”
Sunset blinked. “You’re sorry?” she repeated. “You’re sorry?”
Blake cringed. “I’ll make it up to-”
“You’re not the one who ought to be sorry!” Sunset roared. “Whoever did this ought to be sorry, and whoever did this is going to be sorry by the time I get my hands on them!” Cardin. I bet it’s Cardin; he couldn’t let it go, could he?
He’s going to wish he had by the time I’m done with him.
“Sunset, what do you intend to do?” asked Pyrrha nervously.
Sunset took a deep breath. “I,” she said, “am going to go to Vale and pick up some white paint so that we can cover that up. And by the time I get back, I will either be calmed down, or I will have a plan of revenge, and personally, I kind of hope it’s the latter because nobody deserves to get away with that!”
The door to the Team YRDN dorm room opened. “Hey, guys!” Nora greeted them. “Welcome back.”
“Hey, Nora,” Ruby replied, with a wave. “Sorry, did we disturb you?”
“One of you was rather audible,” Dove called from inside the dorm room, “but it wasn’t you, Ruby.”
Ruby giggled just a little. “Hey, Dove. So, how did your mission go?”
Nora’s face fell just a little. “Oh, that? Yeah, it was… a thing. I’d ask how your mission was, but really, I’m here to tell you that you should keep it quiet, get inside your room, and-”
“Is that Sunset Shimmer yelling out there?” Yang called from somewhere, possibly the bathroom, considering that she didn’t just come to the door and have a look for herself.
“Uh… no?” Nora suggested. “It’s another very angry faunus who just happens to sound like her.”
“Nora,” Ruby said. “Why are you-?”
“Everyone stay right where they are!” Yang yelled from the bathroom. There was the muted sound of a tap running, and then about twenty seconds later, Yang walked out, slamming the bathroom door behind her with a very loud bang.
“Yang!” Nora cried. “Look who’s here!”
“Nora,” Yang said, her eyes flashing red. “Get out of the way.”
“You got it, boss,” Nora said before stepping smartly out of the doorway.
Yang stomped out. She loomed over Ruby in particular, but her crimson eyes swept over all three of them.
“So,” she growled. “It seems that some of you didn’t tell me everything about your mission, did you?”
Ruby winced. “Well, you see, it wasn’t really our mission; we really were assigned to-”
“Ruby,” Yang cut her off, her tone commanding. “You didn’t tell me that you were going to try and get yourself ambushed by the White Fang on the way back to Vale, did you?”
Ruby looked away. “No. No, we didn’t.”
“No,” Yang agreed. “None of you told me that.” She glowered at Sunset. “None of you,” she repeated.
“Can you blame us?” Sunset asked.
“Yes, I can blame you. I’m doing it right now!” Yang yelled.
“Yang,” Ruby ventured, “I’m training to become a huntress; it’s going to be dangerous-”
“I’m not upset that you were in danger; I’m upset that you didn’t tell me about it first!” Yang cried. “I’m upset that… I’m upset because… because this is exactly what Raven warned us about. Don’t you get that? Don’t any of you get that?”
“Yes,” Sunset admitted. She reached up and ran one hand through her hair. “The thought had occurred to me, just as it had occurred to you even before you found out the truth: extra training missions, just like she said.”
“Then why-?” Yang began.
“Because it suited our purposes,” Sunset said bluntly. “We wanted to help out Blake and Team Rosepetal; Ozpin offered us the means to do that.”
“At what cost?” Yang demanded.
“Yang, I understand that we shouldn’t have deceived you,” Pyrrha said mildly, “but don’t you think that you - that both of you - are sounding a little paranoid?”
“A woman who hasn’t wanted anything to do with me for as long as I can remember thought that this was sufficiently important that she voluntarily came into my life to warn me about it,” Yang insisted. “I think that might be something worth listening to.”
“But,” Pyrrha hesitated, glancing up and down the corridor as if she were afraid that they were being overheard, “this is Professor Ozpin we’re speaking of, and - I don’t intend any offence, Yang - but your mother-”
“She’s not my mother,” Yang said sharply.
“Raven Branwen, then,” Pyrrha corrected herself. “She’s… a deserter, yet we should take her word above a man whose reputation is unparalleled in Remnant?”
“The man of unparalleled reputation put all four of you into the firing line,” Yang replied. “All five of- where is Jaune, anyway?”
“He went down to the farm,” Ruby muttered unhappily. “He… wanted to be by himself.”
“He… this mission was a little hard on him,” Pyrrha added.
“He killed someone, and he’s taking it badly,” Sunset said bluntly.
“Sunset!” Pyrrha scolded.
“Isn’t it better that she should hear it from us than prod Jaune about a sore subject?” Sunset asked. “At least now, she knows not to mention it.”
Yang looked to be trying to remain calm, or at least stop from getting even less calm. “Did anything else happen on this trip of yours that I should know about?”
Sunset shrugged. “I got impaled on a sword.”
Yang’s eyes widened. “And this… this is what I’m talking about. What the hell was Ozpin thinking, giving a job like this to you? Or Team Rosepetal, for that matter? You’re just students!”
“I know the White Fang,” Blake murmured.
“You’re still just a kid like us!” Yang shouted. “We had a pro-huntsman on our mission, and it was supposed to be a simple job of watching some guys fix a wall.”
“'Supposed to be'?” Ruby said. “Yang, did something happen on your mission too?”
“That isn’t the point-”
“It is the point if something happened,” Ruby said. “Are you okay?”
Yang chuckled, and some of the red leeched out of her eyes. “I’m supposed to be the one asking you that, Ruby.”
“I’m fifteen and a huntress in training, just like you,” Ruby said. “Why can’t we worry about one another?”
Yang smiled and ruffled Ruby’s hair with one hand. “Because whatever trouble I got into, it was just normal training mission stuff. Things got a little out of hand at the end, but… I wasn’t approached by Professor Ozpin to do something… Ruby, you heard what Raven said. This path got Mom killed.”
“Mom died because she was a huntress,” Ruby insisted. “And she did what was right, until the very end.”
“I know,” Yang agreed. “I just… forget it. Let’s just… you’re back, and I’m back, and do you guys want to get some tea or something?”
“That sounds lovely,” Pyrrha said.
“Did you guys get time off too?” Ruby asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“Then now I know something happened,” Ruby said. “Come on, Yang, spill it.”
Yang sighed. “I will,” she promised. “But first, tea, okay?”
“I’ll pass,” Sunset said. “Like I was just telling my team, I need to go get some paint to cover up that welcome home present.” She gestured to the graffiti on their door. “Thank you, by the way, for leaving that for us.”
“Yeah, things… things have been a little messed up since we got back,” Yang offered in a sort of excuse.
Going down into Vale, finding a DIY store with all of the supplies that she needed, and then getting back to Beacon took up most of the remains of the day, so that it was dark by the time Sunset returned. The dorm room was empty; her teammates were probably at dinner, but as hungry as she was, Sunset couldn’t just leave this blood red symbol on her door for one minute longer than necessary, and so, she ignored her hunger and got to work on repainting the door, or at least painting over the White Fang symbol.
“Aren’t there janitors to do that?” the silky voice of Cinder Fall announced her presence.
“I haven’t seen any around, have you?” Sunset asked.
Cinder was silent for a moment. “No, that’s an excellent point.”
Sunset bent down to place the brush in the black plastic tray. She rose again, and only then did she look at Cinder, a smile playing across her face. “Good to see you again.”
“And you,” Cinder replied.
“You could have fooled me from how long it took you to come by.”
“Perhaps I wanted to make you miss me as much as I missed you.”
“Or perhaps you had class.”
“Well, if you want to be boring about it,” Cinder muttered. “I must say, I am sorry I missed your reaction to that.”
“Oh, so you knew about it.”
“Of course. It was the talk of the whole school when it first appeared on your door.”
“But you didn’t think to maybe cover it up for us before we got back?”
“Sunset, please,” Cinder murmured, putting one hand to her heart. “A lady doesn’t sully her hands with such menial labour. I don’t see Pyrrha getting her exquisitely manicured hands dirty, do you?”
“Are you saying that I’m not a lady?”
“You’re the one who decided to do menial labour, not me.”
“Like I said, there aren’t any janitors,” Sunset muttered. “And I don’t want to have to look at this one second longer than necessary.”
“Is that why you’re skipping dinner?”
“Yep,” Sunset replied. “What’s your excuse?”
“I’m not hungry,” Cinder said casually. “And I wanted to see you. How did your mission go?”
“Not too bad,” Sunset said. “We caught a couple of prisoners. I almost died.”
“Really?” Cinder asked. “You almost died?”
“Yep.”
“How in Remnant did you manage that?”
“You make it sound like incompetence.”
“Isn’t it?”
“In this particular instance, it was strategy.”
“A strategy that nearly kills you deserves to be called incompetence, in my opinion.”
“Ha ha,” Sunset growled. “It was the only way to get past his semblance.”
“He, whoever he is, must have been a dangerous opponent if he forced you to such drastic measures,” Cinder observed.
“Very,” Sunset agreed. “But I’ll get him back.” She bent down to pick up the paint brush and resumed her painting. “I’ll get them all back.”
“All of them being-”
“Whoever painted on my door, once I find out who they are,” Sunset snapped.
“Can you?” Cinder asked. “Find out who they are, I mean?”
Sunset was silent for a moment. She let out a sigh. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’d certainly like to – I’d really like to – but although I have suspicions, I don’t know how I’d prove it.”
“I might be able to help with that,” Cinder offered.
Sunset’s eyebrows rose. “How?”
Cinder smirked. “Although she is sadly deficient as a huntress, Emerald is quite the little sneak; I’m sure that if I asked her to, she could find something out about the culprit behind this little act of vandalism.”
“Okay, but why?”
“Why?”
“Why would you want to bother?” Sunset asked. “What would I owe you in return?”
“Sunset! I’m hurt,” Cinder cried. “Why would you just assume that I have an ulterior motive?”
Sunset stared at her.
“Well, as it happens,” Cinder admitted, “my reason is the same reason I didn’t take that symbol off your door.”
“Wasn’t that because a lady doesn’t do menial labour?”
“Alright, the other reason,” Cinder explained. “I was rather hoping to see your reaction.”
“Oh, really?”
“Don’t take it personally, Sunset; this school is so dull,” Cinder implored her. “I’m starved of amusement.”
Sunset shook her head. “You really think you can help me?”
Cinder’s smile was as bright as pearl and as sharp as a knife. “I’m positively certain of it.”

…and so, as you can see, my life recently has been far from boring. In fact – I can’t believe that I’m about to say this – I’d almost rather that it had been a bit less interesting recently.
There was a pause on the other end of the magical journal, and Sunset could almost imagine Twilight sitting on the other end of the book reading Sunset’s account and struggling to work out what to make of it all. Although, when Sunset imagined Twilight, that really meant the human Twilight; it was weird, but Sunset couldn’t really conceive of the pony Twilight at all; the Twilight Sparkle she was more familiar with just kept getting in the way of her imagination.
I see what you mean.
Sunset snorted. Probably how I’d react if I was being told all of this instead of living through it. She was sitting in the bathroom, so as not to disturb her sleeping teammates. A ball of pale green magelight hovered above her head, enough to illuminate the book resting on her knees but not bright enough that the light shining under the bathroom door would wake the four people sleeping on the other side.
I suppose that I’m to blame for not writing more often; this probably wouldn’t seem so huge if I’d let you know about it as it was going on. But things have been pretty hectic, as you can probably imagine.
I can, or at least I think I can. You know, whenever I write to you, I’m always left very glad that I live in a world where threats to the security of Equestria never show up more than once every three months or so.
Don’t get too comfortable; when I was growing up, we would have called that scarily frequent.
I won’t pretend that I don’t know what you mean, but all the same, the idea of you calling my troubles ‘frequent’ is a little bizarre. Have you become inured to it?
Can you be more specific?
The violence, the things that you call grimm, the danger.
You can’t bundle them all up together like that. Have I become accustomed to the grimm? Yes, I’d say so, or pretty much, at least. Occasionally, a particularly large or powerful specimen comes along – like the one on the railway line – that still has the power to spook me, but the usual ones, I think I can handle. I’d better be able to handle them, since I’m training to spend my life fighting them and all. Danger?
She sucked on her pen for a moment while she thought. Had she become accustomed to danger? Had she become inured to the peril in which she lived? Was it matter-of-fact to her now?
I think it depends on the circumstances, on what kind of danger we’re talking about. The same goes for the violence. If you’d asked me this before we left on our mission, I might have answered you differently, but this business with Jaune has reminded me that there is a lot that is still new to all of us; we’re all very young still.
I can’t imagine what that must be like for him.
Killing?
I wish you wouldn’t write about it like that; it makes you seem so blasé about it. The act of taking a life, even the discussion of the act of taking a life, should be treated with more seriousness than that.
I’m sorry. I don’t disagree with you on that – you can tell Celestia that I haven’t fallen so far from what it means to be an Equestrian
You could always tell her yourself.
Sunset’s eyebrows rose. You’re not in Canterlot that often, are you?
No, but I could always send the book to Celestia if you wanted to talk to her.
Sunset hesitated, twirling her pen absently between her fingers as she considered the words that had just appeared on the page before her. Considered how much she really wanted Celestia to know about her life here in Remnant. Celestia already knew a fair amount, but to tell her everything, that was… that was something else altogether.
That’s kind of you, but I don’t think that I’ll take you up on it too often. I don’t think I want Princess Celestia to know everything. I suppose I’m more comfortable talking to you about certain things.
Why? You don’t know me nearly so well as you know Princess Celestia.
Maybe that’s the point. She paused, hemming and hawing over the next few words. If I had to kill somebody, I wouldn’t want Celestia to know about it; even if it was an accident or if I had no other choice to save myself or my friends. I still wouldn’t want Celestia to know that I had done that. I wouldn’t want her to think of me in that way. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want her to think of me in the way that I am; I’d almost rather she remembered me the way I was when I knew her, when I was a kid, before it all fell apart. Does that make any sense? Sunset’s eyes widened. Sunset: You don’t tell her everything that we write about, do you?
Of course not. I respect your confidence, and I understand what you’re saying, although I think you’d find that Princess Celestia could be very forgiving even if you did something terrible. Provided that you had no other choice.
Sunset frowned. Is that supposed to mean something?
Adam.
Sunset scowled. That’s completely different.
Is it? After seeing what taking a life has done to Jaune, are you still willing to embark on this path of revenge?
This has nothing to do with revenge.
Then what does it have to do with?
Adam is a mad dog who deserves to be
Put down? Really? Is that what you were going to say? Princess Celestia would be disappointed to know that you think like that now.
It’s not like I feel that way about everybody. Neither of you understand what it’s like, what he is like. Neither of you were there. Neither of you understand how terrifying he is. I had to let him stab me through the gut in order to get over my fear of him. Incidentally, please do not tell Princess Celestia that I almost died.
I probably should.
Why? You know she’d only fret.
It makes me fret a little. You nearly died.
But I didn’t, and I conquered my fear of Adam in the process. He might cut me down, but he won’t scare me while he’s doing it.
I don’t entirely follow the logic there. I thought he scared you because he might kill you.
But I was ready to die this time, I didn’t need Ruby to push me out of the way and take the hit for me, I didn’t need Rainbow Dash to save me, and I didn’t leave Twilight to her fate. He couldn’t paralyse me like he did the last time. Let me have this, Twilight. I need a win against this guy, and this is the closest thing I have where Adam is concerned. Which is another reason I need to kill him. I need to put this behind me, once and for all. And I need to do it before he hurts any more of my friends. I mean, come on, Twilight, what’s my alternative here? He’s nearly killed Ruby, he’s nearly killed me, how long until our luck runs out? Am I supposed to stand by and watch while he cuts Jaune down? Am I supposed to carry Pyrrha’s circlet home to her mother and tell her that I watched her daughter die because I was waiting to redeem her killer by the power of kindness?
I’ve seen an enemy die, you know.
Sunset didn’t reply immediately. She was stunned, honestly, to read that. It wasn’t what she expected to read from… from someone in Equestria, let alone a Princess of Friendship, still less one who had just been telling her that she shouldn’t try to kill Adam. It was… it just wasn’t what she’d expected.
You killed them?
No. No, it wasn’t me.
Sunset frowned. She could sense something coming through in Twilight’s words, but it wasn’t something that made a whole lot of sense. It almost seemed like regret, but regret for what? Regret at the death or regret that Twilight had not done the deed? One seemed false from the context; the other made no sense.
I don’t understand.
Twilight took a few moments before she actually replied. Sunset supposed that she could understand why. His name was Sombra.
The old King, the one who took over the Crystal Empire? But the Empire was sealed away, and Sombra with it.
The Empire returned, and Sombra with it. He tried to retake his throne and re-enslave the crystal ponies. My friends, my brother, my sister-in-law all tried to stop him.
And you?
Yes. And me. I hadn’t become the Princess of Friendship then; this was one of Celestia’s tests to see if I was as ready as she believed me to be. I thought that my test was to save the Crystal Empire and stop Sombra.
A reasonable assumption in the circumstances. I’d have thought the same thing in your position. I would have seen it as my destiny to defeat the monster and save Equestria from his malice.
As it turned out, the test was to see if I could take a step back and rely on others to be the hero in my place. I passed. I almost wish I hadn’t.
What exactly happened?
I fell into King Sombra’s trap; since I couldn’t escape, and King Sombra was about to reach the Crystal Faire, Spike had to take the Crystal Heart and reach the faire in my place.
The dog?
What? No, Spike is a dragon; he’s my assistant, my friend; he’s kind of my little brother too. Why would you think he was a dog?
Sunset decided that it was best not to wander off into the weeds of other Twilight and her pet dog, Spike. She wanted to find out where Twilight was going with this. Never mind. Go on, I’m sorry for interrupting.
Spike got the heart to Cadance, and its power restored the heart of the Crystal Ponies, and that power destroyed King Sombra. I saw him torn apart by the crystal magic. It killed him.
Sunset let out a slow exhalation of breath. I see. And how does Spike feel about that?
He doesn’t know. He won’t ever know. All he knows is that he saved the Crystal Empire; he’s a hero to them. But he’s still just a kid, and I don’t want him to know just how he saved the Empire. I can’t take away what he did, but I can ensure that he isn’t burdened by the knowledge of it.
That’s fair enough, and I won’t question your decision, but don’t you think that it proves my point instead of yours? Sombra was dangerous, and in the moment, there was nothing to be done but to put an end to his menace by any means.
And I won’t argue that in extremis – absolute extremis – it wasn’t necessary, but that isn’t what you’re talking about. You’re talking about hunting someone down and killing them to salve your pride.
This has nothing to do with my pride!
I suspect you can’t really believe that.
Sunset huffed. He’s dangerous. To Blake, to my team. Am I supposed to ignore that?
No, I would never tell you that you shouldn’t defend your friends, but I can ask you, I can beg you, not to seek out that confrontation. I’m not naive. I appreciate that there are monsters out there in the world; I just don’t want you to join them. Look at what Jaune’s going through, based on what you’ve told me. Is that something you want to voluntarily take on yourself?
It won’t hurt me the way that it’s hurting Jaune.
How can you be so sure?
Because I don’t care about people the way that he does.
You might believe that, but I’m not so sure.
Really? And what makes you think you know me better than I know myself?
Blake. I have to admit, I’m proud of what you did for her.
Sunset felt her cheeks heat up. I owed Blake, that’s all.
Why is it so hard for you to simply admit that you saw someone in need of compassion and were moved to offer the same? Why is it so hard for you to admit that you like her and want to help her?
Because that’s not who I am, and it never has been!
Maybe, but I wasn’t always a great friend either. Sometimes, we don’t know what we’re capable of inside until we find our true friends.
Sunset blinked. You think that I was destined to befriend Blake? And Ruby, Pyrrha, and Jaune too?
I don’t see why it should be so outlandish an idea. If destiny is real, and I believe that it is, why should it only apply to great events or to love? Why not to friendships too?
I suppose I can see what you mean, although I’d never thought of it that way before. Frankly, at this point, I’m more interested in any advice that you might have about Pyrrha.
I don’t think it’s your place to interfere, do you?
Her mother doesn’t see it that way; she wants me to try and push for a reconciliation between the two of them.
It seems as though hearts change more slowly in Remnant than in Equestria; I think you’ll just have to give them some time.
You think Pyrrha will come around?
You’re her friend, the person who knows her; do you think she’ll come around?
Yes, I do. I think I do. I just wish that I could be more certain, you know? And there’s also the issue of her and Jaune. She thinks she’s in love with him.
You disagree?
I don’t know; he’s the first guy she’s ever met who didn’t treat her like a trophy.
So? Sometimes these things happen. My brother only ever had a crush on one mare.
Cadance?
Exactly. And they really do love each other; anyone can see that. It seems that sometimes, you really can just know; you shouldn’t dismiss it just because you haven’t felt that yourself.
I felt it myself. I was just wrong about it. Perhaps you’re right. I hope so, for Pyrrha’s sake. She’s putting an awful lot of herself into this, and to be perfectly honest, Pyrrha is a little emotionally fragile. I’m just worried that if things don’t work out, it will break her heart.
And you’ll be there to pick up the pieces. Do you mind if we call it a night? It’s getting late here, and I’m a little tired.
Sunset smiled. Sure. Next time, you can tell me all about your life.
Since the most interesting thing that’s happened to me lately is having three fillies briefly try to take advantage of my newfound fame, I’m sure you’d be very bored to learn about my life.
I don’t know; it might be cool to hear about that kind of thing. It might make a change, certainly. Sunset yawned. But I should probably turn in myself. Goodnight, Twilight.
Goodnight, Sunset. Sweet dreams.
Sunset shut the book and tucked it underneath her arm as she got up and walked towards the bathroom door. She yawned again and covered her mouth reflexively before she reached for the door that led out of the bathroom and into the dorm room.
She had opened it a crack when she heard Jaune letting out some kind of muffled gasp or exclamation on the other side.
“Nightmares, huh?” The voice belonged to Blake, and though she was speaking softly, every word that she said was nevertheless clear to Sunset’s four ears.
There was a momentary silence before Jaune replied, “Yeah. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
“It’s okay; I’m just a very sensitive sleeper.” Another pause before Blake spoke continued, “It’s rough that this had to happen to you.”
Sunset found herself lingering on the other side of the door. It wasn’t that she wanted to eavesdrop; it was just… she didn’t want to interrupt either. It felt prurient to stay, but it felt equally wrong to go through the door and reveal herself. And so, she lingered, one hand upon the door handle, and waited, and listened.
“I think it’s rough that this has to happen to anybody,” Jaune replied.
Blake sniffed, or at least, that was what it sounded like to Sunset. “You’re right, of course; although not every guy in your position would see it that way.”
More silence. Jaune said, “I… I went to see Professor Goodwitch this afternoon.”
Hidden behind the bathroom door, Sunset allowed herself a smile.
“That’s… that’s good,” Blake said. “Are you planning to see her again?”
“Yeah,” Jaune said. “She told me… she told me that with help, this would get better, but that it never gets any easier to take a life. Or rather, it shouldn't.”
“I don’t have the experience to dispute that,” Blake replied. “Or at least, not the right experience. Like I said, it got easier for me, but for all the wrong reasons. Honestly, it feels like this is the kind of thing that the combat schools ought to prepare you for.”
“Maybe they do,” Jaune said. “I wouldn’t know.”
“You were… apprenticed? Self-taught?”
Jaune paused before he answered. “More like not-taught. I… I faked my transcripts to get in here.”
“Really?” Blake said. For a moment, her voice acquired an edge of amusement. “Don’t tell anybody, but me too.”
Jaune sounded like he was stifling a snort. “I’m not sure that’s much of a secret any more.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Because I thought I could be a hero, like my great-grandfather,” Jaune said. “I suppose you think that sounds pretty stupid.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You… you don’t?”
“Maybe a little naïve for somebody with no combat training,” Blake said. “But the world will never change unless people dare to dream that change is possible, no matter now naïve or even stupid our dreams might seem to outsiders.”
“Rainbow Dash told me we could never be those kinds of heroes.”
“Rainbow Dash isn’t nearly as smart as she thinks she is,” Sunset whispered, as she came out of the bathroom with her journal tucked underneath her arm. “Pardon me for overhearing,” she murmured as she stowed the journal underneath her bed. “I couldn’t really help it.”
Blake shrugged. “You believe in heroes, I take it?”
“You don’t?” Sunset asked, somewhat surprised.
“I used to,” Blake said. “I used to believe that Adam was our hero, the one who would strike the chains from off of our people and lead us to true equality. As you can imagine, I became a little more wary of what people who call themselves heroes can do in the name of their cause.”
“But like you said,” Sunset said, “someone has to be willing to make the first step, to answer ‘no, you can’t’ with ‘yes, I can, and just you watch me do it!’ Someone has to be willing to do what others deem impossible. And yeah, you were wrong about Adam; you were really wrong. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a hero waiting for your people." She gave Blake a meaningful look. "It just means you were mistaken about who it is.”
Blake stared at Sunset for a moment. “You’re kidding.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Sunset replied.
“You think I could be the hero who saves the faunus?”
“I don’t see why not,” Sunset said. “Isn’t that what you want?”
Blake hesitated. “I… I’d be happy to support someone else who looked like they were going to do it, but… yes, I suppose you could say that’s what I want.”
“Then don’t give up on it,” Sunset said. “Either of you. Sure, your dreams are big; sure, they might seem impossible. But I could say the same of Pyrrha’s dream of destroying the grimm completely. All our dreams are big, or they wouldn’t be worth having. But we work towards them, we fight for them, we keep reaching for the stars, and together we’ll make it someday; that’s what… hey, Blake?”
“Yeah?”
Sunset smiled slightly. “Would you… would you like to put your initial on the wall, somewhere next to ours? I don’t know where you’ll be ending up, but for a while, you’re here, and you feel like… would you like to put your initial up on the wall, just so people know you were here?”
She glanced at Jaune, who nodded approvingly.
Blake smiled. “Yes,” she said. “I think I’d like that.”