Here's the chapter, back with full-length chapters since my mother is out of the hospital.
I suppose this chapter would still be rated T, but has a warning for a certain someone's potty mouth.
Cover Art: Jack Wayne
Chapter 34
Ruby paced back and forth in her room.
"We're going to Jaune's," Yang said from the doorway, saying the name like it was a hint she ought to respond to. Yang waited, clearly expecting Ruby to be knocked out of her funk. "Nothing? Hello, Remnant to Ruby. Are you coming in?"
"Ruby," Weiss said. When she received no response, she tried again, louder. "Ruby? Ruby!"
"I've got this," Yang said. "Look, Ruby! A mecha-scythe with a ballistic missile attachment!"
Ruby paused, looked up, and then started to nibble on a lock of hair. She whispered something under her breath and went back to pacing across the room.
"Huh, I really thought that would work."
"Oh, let's just leave her be," Weiss said. "If she has things to think about, we shouldn't interfere."
"Shouldn't we at least ask if something is wrong?"
"If you think you can get her to hear you, be my guest."
Yang spared one last look for her sister and sighed, giving up on the idea. "Alright, fine. Ruby," she called, "We're off to Jaune's for a bit. If you change your mind and want to come, either catch up with us or send us a message." When there was no response, Yang rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll send you a message so you can read it when you're out of whatever funk you're in."
Blake, Yang and Weiss gave her a last moment to respond before shaking their heads and leaving.
The moment the door closed, Ruby paused and let out a short breath. Finally. How long did she have to keep that up before they got the hint? Ruby sighed and slumped back onto her bed, idly scratching Zwei's ears as he leapt up to place his forepaws on her knees, looking up at her inquisitively.
"I'm okay, boy," she said. "Just… a lot of things to think about. Things that aren't easy to think on when everyone else is talking. You understand what I mean, right?"
Zwei barked, either understanding perfectly or just being happy to be talked to. She could never tell, but his joy helped prop her spirits up a little anyway. Ruby giggled and dragged him up onto the bed with her, laying back and stroking his head idly as he leaned against her side, under her armpit, and panted away.
Torchwick and Jaune. Torchwick, Jaune, and a whole lot of other people who were obviously up to no good. The meeting she'd briefly overheard kept playing in her head and she couldn't get rid of it. Worse, she didn't know what to do about it.
Conventional wisdom said she ought to tell someone. Probably the headmaster or Miss Goodwitch, maybe even Doctor Oobleck if she didn't feel confident enough going to the first two. Or there was the police, or even just her Dad, sister of teammates. If she told any of them, they'd take it out her hands and do the rest for her, saving her the mental agony. It would be easy and, more importantly, not her fault whatever happened. She'd just be a concerned citizen and aspiring huntress doing her duty.
But Jaune would suffer for it.
He'd be in a lot of trouble even if he didn't know who they were. The question of `how` he didn't know flashed through her mind, and she tried to push it away before it could take root. He had to not know. He just had to. There was no way Jaune Arc, her best-friend-who-was-also-a-guy (or just best guy-friend) was a criminal. It just wasn't possible.
For one, he was too nice.
Secondly, he was her friend!
Blake had been a criminal too, but she regretted it, so that was okay. Nice and simple. People made mistakes and Ruby had once stolen a cookie or two, or three – okay, way more than three – from the jar in her time and been told off for them. Seriously, she'd heard of being caught red-handed, but did Dad really need to put red paint on the jar? Either way, she regretted those things, so that was okay. Blake did too, so that was that.
Jaune obviously didn't if he was still helping them. She'd have liked to say he was being forced, or just wasn't strong enough to say no, but it hadn't sounded very forced. He was taking money for helping them, for crying out loud. You didn't pay someone you were blackmailing.
"I just don't know what to do, Zwei?"
At his name being mentioned, Zwei's head perked up and he scurried forward, pressing his cold nose to the underside of Ruby's jaw. She took it as a hint to keep talking.
"Jaune's a friend and I… I love him. Not like that," she quickly said, "but, you know, he's my friend. Probably my best friend other than Weiss. If I tell anyone, he's going to be in trouble. A lot of trouble."
The kind of trouble that might involve time in jail.
"He'd lost the diner for sure. Everyone's been trying so hard to help him keep it and it's a place everyone loves. If I'm responsible for it closing, people will hate me." Maybe not Yang, Weiss or Blake, but they'd still be disappointed – and others might not be so understanding. "Even if they don't, I'd hate myself," she said.
"Hrrrr…" Zwei licked her chin.
Ruby giggled. "Thanks boy, I'm glad you'd never hate me. But I'd still feel bad. Awful. Pyrrha would be hurt too, and Russel and Velvet would lose their jobs. We'd not have anywhere to go after the day ends or on the weekends, and even if Jaune later got out, he'd never want to talk to me again."
Not that she'd be able to blame him in that case.
"But if I don't, then doesn't that mean I'm in just as bad a spot as him?" She wasn't savvy on all the laws, but it sounded like aiding and abetting, or at least as TV shows made it seem. Even if it wasn't, she'd be complicit in anything that happened. "What if it's bad? What if it's really bad? If people get hurt and I could stop it, then shouldn't I?"
The obvious answer was yes.
Ruby hated the obvious answer.
"Maybe there's more to it than I realise. Do you think that's possible, boy?"
"Arf!"
"You do?" Ruby sat up, not at all embarrassed to feel comforted by a dog's agreement. "Yeah, Jaune's no criminal. He's just trying to make things work out. There has to be something more going on."
"Arf!" Zwei wagged his tail happily.
"I need to find out what it is."
"Arf?" Zwei paused.
"No, no, it's perfect. I'll go on the night they're supposed to be meeting. I'll be all sneaky and listen in."
Zwei's ears flattened and his head drooped. He whined pitifully.
"What?" Ruby asked, scandalised. "I'll be fiiine. I can totally be sneaky, and even if I can't I'll just run away with my Semblance. No one would be able to catch me. But if I listen in, I can find out what's going on and stop them. That way, Jaune will be okay."
Zwei pawed her shoulder in obvious agitation.
Ruby crooned and rubbed his head. "Aw, Zwei. You're cheering me on."
The corgi growled and bit her hand gently.
"No, Zwei. You can't come with me." Ruby patted his head, ignoring the dog's obvious distress. "They said they were meeting this weekend. Not sure which day, but if I go Saturday and nothing happens, I'll know it's Sunday."
Incredible deductive skills. Heck, she was already a detective.
"If I sneak into Jaune's apartment, I'll be able to listen in." It wouldn't be hard, either. Jaune trusted her enough that if she purposefully spilled some coffee on herself and asked to dry her clothes off in his apartment, he'd let her. From there, she just needed to unlatch a window subtly and climb through it later. He'd never realise. "And when Torchwick and the other criminals come, I'll find out what their big plan is and stop it. Simple."
Ruby laughed and rubbed Zwei's ears.
"Thanks, boy. For a corgi, you sure come up with the best ideas."
Zwei laid flat on the bed as his master stood up and started rushing around, planning for her weekend of vigilantism. As she loudly planned what to wear, how to be sneaky and where she could find a voice recorder, Zwei hid his face under both paws and whined.
/-/
"No Ruby today?" he asked.
"Nope." Yang used her spoon to bring up a piece of whipped cream and caramel from her drink and licked it slowly and sensually. Her eyes remained locked on his, and when she was done, she smiled saucily. "Why? Disappointed?"
Jaune purposefully looked away before his cheeks could turn bright red. Yang was a bombshell and a half and so far, he'd avoided making an absolute fool of himself. For some reason, she'd decided to take that as a challenge.
"Not so much. I was just curious."
"Curious, hm? Sure I can't solve that for you?"
Blake rolled her eyes and stomped a foot on Yang's. It didn't do much due to aura, but it did earn a startled noise from the blonde. "I'd give than a six out of ten. Weaker than yesterday."
"What?" Yang squawked. "That was worth an eight at least!"
"A five," Weiss said, barely paying attention over the newspaper she was reading. "Jaune isn't even blushing."
Yang was horrified and quickly looked to him for confirmation. Jaune shrugged with a little smile, as Weiss said, not showing any discomfort at all. To be fair, he'd had the Malachites be much more forward with their teasing. Yang's really didn't compare, even if she was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever met.
"Wasn't forward enough," Jaune confirmed.
"Bah!" Yang crossed her arms and scowled, annoyed at being called out. Or just losing. "Maybe you're just getting more resistant. I'll do better next time. Anyway, Ruby's in a weird mood so she's not here. Maybe she'll come by later."
"A weird mood? What does that mean?"
"If we knew what it meant, it wouldn't be weird," Blake pointed out.
"Huh. I guess so."
"She's probably just got something in her head," Yang said. "She gets like that sometimes. Might be weapon-related. You ever heard her talk about weapons?"
Jaune grinned. "Only every single time we talk…"
"Yep. Well, you should see her when the mood to actually workon them takes her. It's like talking to a brick wall. I've seen more responsive coma patients." Yang laughed and waved a hand. "Give it a day and she'll be back, probably whining about how Miss Goodwitch wouldn't let her install an inter-continental ballistic missile onto Crescent Rose or something. `But Miss Goodwitch`," Yang whined, in an approximation of Ruby's voice. "`What if I need to shoot a Beowolf in Mistral!?`"
"Alright, alright, I get it," Jaune said, cheering up a little. "Guess I'll send her a text later or something."
"Why? You two shacking up this weekend?"
"We're not like that."
"I meant hanging out." Yang rolled her eyes. "Trust me, I'd know if you were doing anything with my sister, and you'd know that I knew. You having another one of your sleepovers? Can I come?"
"No. To the sleepover part," he said when Yang made to protest. "I'm kinda busy this weekend."
"When are you not?"
"Wednesday," he joked. "But seriously, I have some other things going on this weekend that are going to keep me up overnight. You probably won't even see me during the day. I'll be catching some extra rest."
"Admin?" Weiss asked, curious.
"Something like that. Paperwork and tax returns."
"Tax returns are normally handled at the end of the year," Weiss pointed out. "You have six months remaining."
"I like to do things early," he said a little defensively. He couldn't tell them what he was really doing.
"Leave him be, Weiss. Maybe he just wants to have some time to himself. After all, he's a growing man. Needs a chance to beat the monkey, am I right?"
Bloody Yang! Jaune's cheeks blossomed with colour before he could stop himself and Yang cheered, pleased to have finally gotten a reaction.
"Ten out of ten!"
"Seven," Weiss corrected. "It was a crude joke. Incredibly crass."
"Still blushed. I win!"
Jaune took the tattered remains of his dignity and hurried off to serve another table, laughing embarrassedly at the golf claps of those who had overheard. He made vague threatening motions back which everyone took with the severity they deserve, aka none.
It was all fun and games and, in a weird way, a lot of the regulars had come to know and appreciate that. Team RWBY were a common sight, as were a lot of other patrons. It wasn't unusual to see people nod or call greetings out to people they'd have never known if it wasn't for them meeting here, and sometimes the diner ran out of tables and people had to share. In any other place, they would have shrugged and gone elsewhere, but people were strangely willing to share here.
Maybe it was because they were, for the most part, huntsmen. Similar job roles made it easier to mesh with strangers, especially when you could discuss the latest Grimm movements or the Vytal Festival and be on an equal wavelength most of the time.
Either way, Yang's new game had become the latest source of entertainment for the sipping masses. Even Velvet and Russel got in on it, Velvet giving him a thumbs up and Russel miming the most sarcastic applause he'd ever seen.
"I could fire you both, you realise."
"You could," Velvet said, "But then who would go collect cakes from Marron in the mornings?"
"Me. I used to do this all on my own if you recall."
Though looking back, he had no idea how he'd managed it. He'd gotten used to Russel and Velvet's help and couldn't really imagine not having it anymore. There was an old analogy about one's butt filling to the confines of a chair. He'd gotten lazier for their help, but it was a good feeling.
"I don't pay you to watch me squirm. Go. Shoo. Do some work."
"Yes, my lord," Russel said, bowing dramatically.
Velvet curtsied.
Jaune waved a fist, though his smile betrayed him. Those two were real idiots. His smile faded when the front door opened and a familiar, and unwelcome, figure entered the diner.
Black suit, shiny shoes, a briefcase at his side. Alexander Sterling moved with a clarity of purpose, resistant to the numerous unflattering glares he received from the other patrons. Nothing overtly threatening, but the overall chatter in the diner lessened. People moved their chairs subtly to watch and while no one reached for a weapon, there was a sense of readiness.
Jaune would give the man credit, he didn't look intimidated by any of it. To mimic that, Jaune brought out a mug and filled it with a black coffee, pushing it across the counter with a small jug of milk and a bowl of sugar.
"Sterling."
The man nodded back. "Arc."
Separated by a counter and a basket of condiments and cookies, the two stared at one another, like titans from some movie, each prepared to draw weapons and shoot – except that weapons in this case might be spoons on Jaune's part and legal documents for his opponent.
"Why are you here, Sterling? I wasn't aware we had anything to talk about. No solicitors this time? No goons to attack my staff?"
Sterling bristled. "No." His lips peeled back as though he wanted to snarl, but he forced it down. "And I would like to apologise for what happened. It was a regrettable mistake."
A mistake? He very much doubted that. The only regret Café Prime had was that it had been aired to their detriment, and the mistake being that they'd thought Velvet could be assaulted in that manner. He'd read some of the comments online. While most people were happy to see Velvet stand up for herself, there had been a disturbing few who cautioned that the `faunus were getting violent again` and that Velvet should have not fought back.
Thinly disguised racism at its finest. Naturally, those people had taken more of a shine to Café Prime as a result, which was both good for their business and bad. Good because it brought more customers to Café Prime, but bad because they really didn't want their business associated with anti-faunus racism.
That way led to the SDC, and everyone knew what the White Fang had done to them.
"I've come without threats today," Sterling said. "No solicitors, no arguments. In fact, I was hoping we might look to… work things out between us. The current state of affairs doesn't really favour either of our businesses."
The state of affairs which they had started, Jaune wanted to say. He didn't. It would have been both petty and needless and, realistically speaking, wasn't this what he'd wanted? For Café Prime to back off and stop causing problems? "I'm listening."
"I'd prefer if we spoke in private, Arc. I can't really discuss it here."
"I'm working," Jaune returned, nodding to the full diner. "I can't go off to talk business at a time like this. We can talk upstairs in my apartment, but-"
"That would be fine. This shouldn't take too long."
Jaune paused, surprised that Sterling would accept so easily. Maybe Café Prime really were looking to bring an end to this. If that was the case, it wouldn't do for him to try and drag it out. Sterling, for all that he was an arrogant asshole, was right. This bad blood between them wasn't good for business. For either of them.
"Russel, Velvet, can you look after things for a while?"
The two nodded.
"Alright, Sterling. Let's talk."
/-/
"I don't have all the machines up here," Jaune said, offering the man opposite him a simple instant coffee brewed in the apartment kitchen.
"It'll do," Sterling said, sat on one of the ratty couches opposite Jaune, the low coffee table between them. "I appreciate your agreeing to meet with me, especially considering our… past experiences. I wouldn't have been surprised if you turned me away."
Something about the contrite tone had Jaune's walls locking into place. Suspicion, even paranoia, came to the front of his mind. He didn't doubt for a second that Sterling was faking such remorseful words.
But he couldn't say that. "It's fine."
It wasn't. Not at all.
"I'm relieved to hear it," Sterling said, face as unreadable as Jaune's own. "We've not had the best of encounters, you and I. Business makes life complicated and competition more so. My job, my very role, requires me to act in an antagonistic manner towards you. If I don't, I'm not doing my job properly. I won't insult your intelligence by saying it was never personal. It's hard to distinguish between casual life and work sometimes. I'm sure you of all people know that."
He did. Just because the diner closed at ten didn't mean he turned off and stopped thinking about it, or that he stopped being friends with his patrons. "I understand."
"In a way, I respect you. A small business coming out of nowhere to challenge such an established player. Every businessman is a gambler in some small way, but I'll freely admit that I'd have not put money on you. I doubt anyone would. Tell me, were you even aware that we would be competitors when you started?"
"I didn't really think about it. I was looking for something to do and the only skill I had was making different drinks. Something passed down from my mother." Come to think of it, she'd never told him what the name of the place she used to work at was. There was a fair chance it had been a Café Prime outlet.
"I thought as much. You acted with genuine surprise when I first confronted you. At first, I was insulted by it. I thought you weren't taking us seriously. Taking me seriously." Alexander paused to sip his coffee. "That was an overreaction on my part."
An uncomfortable feeling overcame him, as if he were expected to forgive the man, say it was okay. After all the shit he'd been through however, he couldn't. He shrugged instead and busied himself in drinking a little himself.
Thankfully, Sterling continued, "We've butted heads continuously and that has led to some… unfortunate situations. Situations I never thought to find myself in, let alone be the cause of. My temper got the better of me and I began to forget that this is, at the end of the day, just business. You are not my enemy, Jaune Arc, no more than I should be yours. Business is business. It is often cruel and unforgiving, but there's no reason we should let that make us the same."
"I couldn't agree more. Does that mean Café Prime will back off?"
"Not quite…"
Too much to hope for, obviously. "What then? Why come here? Just to tell me not to take anything you say or do personally, or is this an attempt to get me to publicly pardon the things you've done and help you save face in the media?"
"Neither of those things," Sterling said quickly, "I'm just trying to explain the reasons behind some of my harsher decisions. We – that is to say both myself and Café Prime – have clearly gone about this the wrong way. I suppose we have gotten used to our position at the top and that has made us both bull-headed and thuggish. You represented a threat but, in a way, you also represent a shift in the way things are done."
Jaune linked his hands together on the table. "That so?"
"It is. Café Prime has always been about convenience, about providing a good quality service at an affordable price in conveniently placed locations across Vale, and even the other Kingdoms once we expanded. You, however, have taken a different route. There is little convenience offered, no notions of speed or fast service. Instead, the emphasis is placed on quality, on variety – on a menu that is more expensive, more specialised, and yet caters to those who seek a more personal touch."
"I guess it is," Jaune admitted. "I can't compete with you on price or range."
"Precisely. You're a different breed, Jaune, and that shows. People appreciate the new and exciting aspects you bring. We should have recognised that, but the Board can be conservative at times, even resistant to the idea of change. To admit you were a threat would have spooked investors. Business practice dictated we deal with you as a threat, a foolish decision but one I was locked into."
Locked into? Sterling had seemed a lot more personally involved than someone just following orders, and even if this wasn'tpersonal, did that really change anything? Sterling certainly seemed to think so. Jaune was less convinced.
More than that, he was starting to wish his lawyer was here to offer advice. Or Weiss.
"We should have handled things differently," Sterling said, opening his briefcase. "I'd like to take a step towards rectifying that mistake."
He turned the briefcase around so that Jaune could see it.
It was filled with lien.
A lot of lien.
"I'm not willing to sell," Jaune said instantly. "I told you that before-"
"We're not trying to buy you out," Sterling said. "Quite the opposite in fact, we want you to continue what you're doing. We want you to expand, to grow bigger, to succeed."
Shock coursed through him. "What!?"
"Our mistake was in seeing you as simply an enemy. Instead, we should have realised that your success was a sign that we should adapt. The problem is that we're a very large company, and change isn't easy when you need to establish it across four Kingdoms, more than a hundred branches and thousands of employees." Sterling brought out a pinkish document and pushed it across the table. "Instead, we'd like to hire you."
Jaune's mouth fell open. "H-Hire me? But I have my own diner!"
"You'd keep it, naturally. Hire might be the wrong wording, let me explain. We think your vision for what the industry might become holds merit. We'd like to expand into the artisan market, but we can't. We lack the expertise and the flexibility. You, however, have both. What we're suggesting is that Café Prime and Jaune's stop working as enemies and start working together. A partnership."
Sterling brought out another piece of paper, this one printed on thick and expensive card paper. He turned it around, revealing a black and gold logo similar to their current one, but also different. The steaming cup of coffee was there in gold, but there was also a stylised image that might have been Jaune stood behind it, side-on with arms crossed. The words below, in gold script, read; `Café Prime: Speciality`.
"We would like you to head a new division within Café Prime. You'd have a position on par with my own. You and I would quite literally become business partners."
Partners? New division? Speciality?
"You would become the Director for Café Prime: Speciality," Sterling continued, ignoring Jaune's confusion. "Naturally, you'd keep your diner, but it would come under a new name, and you'd have our funds and support to expand. We're even willing to offer Managerial positions for your current employees, perhaps even in training new staff to understand the complex nature of your work. The Board even suggested a Barista Academy with you as the Head."
"A-An Academy…?"
"Not an actual school," Sterling laughed, "More like a training facility, but styled like one. Lessons, practical tests and training for new staff. We would even offer certificates for those who pass, showing that they have an expertise beyond what is normally seen. It would help to create a `high quality` feel for customers, with the assurance that every barista is trained to a standard beyond any conventional café. Our dream is for Café Prime and Café Prime: Speciality to stand side by side, cornering both markets and creating a lasting legacy. You, of course, would be pivotal to that."
"But I'd have to join Café Prime," Jaune said weakly. His brain was scrambled. This was a very different method from Café Prime.
"You would, but it would not be something seen as a defeat. Quite the opposite. We're prepared to publicly acknowledge that you bested us. Better still, we want to announce that we have put aside our differences and joined forces. Your expertise and determination, our resources, creating a new brand that might very well outlive us both. In addition, we're prepared to offer a very enticing signing-on fee for yourself. Right now, I've been authorised to offer you one million lien."
Jaune choked. "A-A million!?"
"That's on top of your annual salary," Sterling said quickly. "Bonuses, performance-related incentives and a royalty share of all profits from Café Prime: Speciality. It would be your division, after all. The current contract offers you two per cent of profits, which may sound small, but you should keep in mind that Café Prime currently has revenue in the hundreds of millions. It is very possible that two per cent of profit could translate to a couple of hundred-thousand lien a year."
Hundreds of thousands? That was more than he could ever hope to make in a year. Much more. Added onto the salary and signing fee, and with the funding further down the line… the figures alone were staggering. He had to swallow to process it all.
"I-I can't really agree to anything…"
"Without your solicitor, I know. I'm not looking for you to sign anything today, only to make a decision. The salary, the royalty, even the name `Speciality`. It's all up for negotiation. All we want is to make an announcement that our feud, our battle, has come to an end. That Jaune's and Café Prime are no longer enemies, but staunch allies. I know it's asking a lot for you to agree now, but if you do and we announced it, we would then look fools to try and cheat you. Your solicitor would be negotiating from a position of incredible strength because we need you to follow through. Jaune, you might even be able to force five per cent of profit. This deal, this offer, is incredible."
It was. Even he could see that.
It would mean an end to the constant fear, the drama. His position would be secure. Velvet and Russel would be secure. Jaune's would be secure, even if it would need to change its name. He'd still have control over how it was run, so nothing would change for Team RWBY or the other patrons. Everything they'd fought for would be protected and he'd come out richer than he'd ever imagined.
All signs pointed to it being the best offer he'd get.
Only a fool would say no.
Jaune bit his lip.
"I-I don't know…"
"You don't know?" Sterling laughed. "Jaune, come on, look at what's on the table. A million lien to say yes, not to mention all this investment. If you're worried we'll try and pull the rug out from under you, don't. That would be media suicide. Besides, you've already proved that your way of doing things works. Money talks and the Board would bend over backwards to get you heading our latest business venture."
"I get that-"
"If it's me that's the issue, I can understand. We'd be on an equal level, but we don't have to work together if you don't want to. I have to run the standard chain of Café Prime, and that keeps me busy."
"It's not you," Jaune said quickly.
"Then what is it? An offer like this doesn't come around every day, Jaune. You're doing well, but with just a verbal agreement – not even a binding signature – you could become one of the richest people in Vale." Sterling spread his hands wide. "No tricks, no games, just two business that were once bitter enemies working together to become something stronger."
It sounded great. It sounded perfect.
Better than perfect.
So, why was he so hesitant? Why did his stomach clench up at the thought of it? Why couldn't he say yes right now. It wasn't fear. If he agreed but didn't have to sign anything, then he had Café Prime by the balls. His solicitor from Weiss' family would have free reign to demand whatever he wanted. He might even be able to get it called Café Prime: Jaune's if he wanted.
He didn't.
Jaune's was Jaune's. That statement sounded pretty stupid, but it was the meat of the issue. The diner was his life now, his creation. He'd gotten this far and although he hadn't started the fight with Café Prime, he'd sure as hell faced them head on. And survived this far. Sure, he'd been close to giving up once or twice, but his customers, his friends, had come to his aid, supported him. Convinced him to fight.
With all that in mind, could he really bring himself to stop now?
The mature answer would be to say yes. The rational, the logical choice, was to agree.
Jaune Arc reflected that he might not be as rational as he'd always thought himself to be. No one had ever accused him of having common sense, especially not his mother. Jaune's is mine. It's small, weak and struggling to survive, but it's mine. It would still be his if he accepted their deal, but it would be different. Subtly so, but still there.
He couldn't pinpoint how exactly. Maybe it would be the uniforms, but it felt childish to say a change from green to black would upset him. Maybe it was the sign out front. Again, it was silly. Most of the time he didn't even see the damn thing, since he lived and worked inside the same building. Was it the people? Not really. He could keep Velvet and Russel here, even if he had to travel and manage a few other branches as well.
All in all, he wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was nothing so easily explained. Maybe it was just ego, pride, selfishness.
Self-respect.
"It's a good offer," Jaune said.
Sterling smiled. "It is. It's the best of offers."
"But I can't accept."
The smile fell faster than anything he'd ever seen.
"What?"
"I said no. I can't accept it."
"What do you mean you can't accept it? Are you mad!?" Sterling's lips peeled back, but he forced a laugh through, sitting when he so obviously wanted to stand and shout. "Is this a joke, Jaune? It must be. I get it, I've made my share of mistakes and deserve a little ribbing, but surely we can put the past behind us."
"We can if you like," Jaune said. "I'm not above accepting an apology and moving on, but it doesn't change my decision. Thank you for coming and it's a good deal – a very good deal – but not one I'm prepared to accept."
"You- but…" Sterling struggled to breathe. "Are you mad?" he finally managed. "Are you insane? Do you think a deal like this comes around every day? Do you think you're special? Some of us had to work our way up from the bottom! Yet here I come, apologies on my lip, pride bowed to offer you this deal and you… you throw it back in my face!?"
"That's not what I meant. It's generous, but I don't want to compromise on what I've worked for."
"No! Enough. I lower myself to come to you with an offer of working together and you insult me." All vestiges of cheer and friendship vanished. He reached down for the briefcase, fumbling with the buckles and failing to seal it the first time. He managed it on the second, knocking over the remains of his coffee as he did so. "I'll see myself out," he hissed, storming by. "Don't think this will change anything, Arc. You've a made a mistake here. One you won't soon forget."
He might have, but it was still his choice.
The door slammed loudly.
/-/
Yang had long grown bored of entertaining herself pushing a spoon around her cooling drink. Or the remains of it. It wasn't like she was an excitable dog in constant need of attention, nor that she needed Jaune to have fun, but with Ruby back at Beacon, Weiss nose-deep in a newspaper and Blake reading her latest novel, there wasn't much to do.
"Blaaake," she complained. "Entertain me."
Rather than say anything back and be dragged into a conversation, Blake calmly turned a page and continued to read, ignoring her entirely. Ugh. Talk about boring. Usually, Ruby was loud enough to stop either of them getting absorbed like this.
"Weiss-"
"Don't turn to me just because Blake isn't willing to indulge your nonsense."
Yang grinned. Weiss may have thought herself clever, but she'd replied – which meant she was trapped. "But I'm bored, Ice-Cream. And you're reading a newspaper. What's so exciting in there that you can't be sociable?"
With a loud huff and a rustle of paper, Weiss lowered the news down, glaring at Yang over the top.
Yang smiled prettily back.
"You are a constant pain in my behind, Xiao-Long. I can't believe I'm saying this, but even Ruby is more understanding of what peace and quiet means."
"She isn't. She just gets awkward when people aren't speaking and doesn't know how to start a conversation."
"Still better than you!"
Yang let her head flop to the side and asked in a child-like voice, "What'ya readin'?"
"I am reading the latest story from Lisa Lavender," Weiss said, giving up all hope of continuing unharassed. Blake shook her head, apparently disappointed with Weiss' endurance. "According to this, a local council member has been found to have misled other officials into believing critical repairs to a nearby road were necessary when they were not."
Yang's cheek fell into one hand. "Scandalous." she said, voice as dead as her eyes.
"It's a bigger deal than you realise! The Vytal Festival is almost on us, which means a huge influx of visitors. If a road is closed, then all the shops along it are impacted, as well as those on either side. It can literally push some people out of business, and at a time when the city ought to be welcoming more people than ever!"
"Hm, that does sound kinda big," Yang admitted. "So, why do it now?"
"According to this, it's because other councillors were told the works were critical and, since a new construction company was brought in to do it, they didn't have the records to prove otherwise. However, when they dug up the street, they realised that the pipes were still in excellent condition."
"A mistake, then?"
"Hardly. That news was passed on to the local council, but it was intercepted and hidden. Those in charge never saw the report, so the construction continued unabated. Completely unnecessary roadworks are still ongoing, and people are suffering for it." Weiss read a little further. "See, it says here that two business have been forced into bankruptcy as a result, and others are struggling to survive. This has literally impacted people's lives!"
Despite herself, Yang perked up. While she wasn't one for news normally, a scandal was still a scandal. Weiss might normally have called it tabloids pandering to the absent-minded masses, but hey, Yang freely admitted she was one of those masses. "Sounds like heads are going to roll. You saying Lisa Lavender found all this out?"
"According to this report, yes." Weiss' eyes widened. "It's Walker Street. It's this street."
"The roadworks down on the south end," Yang realised. "I remember when those cropped up. We've had to divert around them ever since they appeared." And what a pain in the ass that had been. "At least Jaune isn't being hit by it."
"He is, to a degree." Blake said, only half-listening. "Even if the diner is full, it's less people walking by."
"The council member is one Matthieu Auber," Weiss said. She paused. "I'll admit, I've never heard of him. Minor elected official, it seems. His job is on the line and his head on the block. His actions will have brought the local council into disrepute, and it's possible the actual Council of Vale will step in and have sharp words for them."
"Sounds unfair if it's just him," Yang said.
"Not as such. Even if he is the one to cause it, it is the responsibility of others around him to look into what they are signing off on. If they handled their bookkeeping properly, this would not have been allowed to happen."
Yang took Weiss' word on that one. Harsh, but probably a fair point.
"As for why, it's-" Weiss gasped. It was a loud, sudden and shocked sound.
Yang sat up.
Even Blake's book came down.
Weiss didn't notice, too busy having her eyes glued to the pages.
Yang waited as long as she could. A whole six seconds. "Come on, Weiss," she urged, "Don't kill us with the suspense here."
"A-Ah." Weiss shook her head, catching on. "Matthieu Auber is related through marriage to Alexander Sterling."
"Wait, you mean the same Sterling that's here right now, speaking to Jaune upstairs?"
"The same. Even more, the decision to close the street on the south end of Walker Street came just one day before Café Prime purchased the property on the north end of Walker Street. This was despite the road works not being formally announced until over a week later."
"Meaning that Café Prime shouldn't have known," Blake whispered. "Or that it was done on Café Prime's request. Bribery? I can't say I'd be surprised if that was the case. Corruption among politicians has always been present."
"Someone's been naughty," Yang sang. "And the news just broke today?"
"This is the first I've heard of it."
A door slammed open. The heavy thud-thud of shoes against a staircase echoed through the diner, followed by Alexander Sterling hurtling out of the back room, face red, briefcase gripped to his chest like some kind of shield. He met the eyes of no one, pushing past Velvet so sharply that he might have knocked her down if she wasn't a huntress.
"Out of my way!" he hissed, rushing by.
"Looks like something didn't go to plan," Yang said. He heard, of course. She'd said it loud enough for that very purpose and delighted in the way he flinched.
Weiss, normally too mature to play such games, smiled and joined in, "I suppose that explains why he came today. It would be a shame if the news was given time to spread. Some might even call for an Inquiry."
Sterling froze. His hands on his briefcase became white and his cheeks bulged as he ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth, no doubt thinking of all the things he'd like to say. Things that would be a terrible mistake since more than a few people had started to record the scene. After the viral success of Blake's video, others wanted in and this promised to be explosive.
To his credit, he remembered his past mistake and hurried for the door.
It opened before he could reach for it.
Yang would freely admit that the look on Sterling's face as he was knocked to the floor was nothing short of orgasmic. His wide eyes, his startled cry, the way his briefcase flung up and caught him in the chin. She hoped someone would post it online later.
The girl who had slammed the door open paid little attention to the downed businessman. She looked down at him, scowled and then stepped over his wide-eyed body, no doubt giving him a free look up her skirt.
Miltia Malachite didn't care. She stepped over Sterling, ignored him as he scurried to his feet and ran outside, and planted her hands on her hips. Her eyes roamed the diner, daring anyone to meet them, before they zeroed in on the blond that was at that very moment stepping out from the staircase at the back of the café.
"YOU!" Miltia pointed directly at him.
Jaune did the same, pointing up at his face. "Me?" he asked stupidly. "Uh. Hey Miltia. Not seen you for a while. Have you been okay?"
"Youuuuu!" Miltia seethed, stepping forward.
He stepped back. "Was it something I said?"
There was a twitch above Miltia's left eye. One that gave away her emotions, even if her tone and words hadn't already. With an audible growl, Miltia covered the distance between him and her and tackled Jaune to the ground.
The sound of lips being forced together echoed through the diner, promptly followed by chairs scraping as people angled for a better view. With cameras already recording, most of those doing so switched targets.
Though she tried to pretend she wasn't, Blake leaned out precariously for a better view.
So did Weiss.
Miltia pulled away with an audible smack, cheeks flushed, lips bruised. Lipstick smudged. Jaune was wearing his own now, though it was smeared a little. He looked dazed by comparison, eyes starling blankly at the ceiling.
"Bwuh!?"
"You!" Miltia growled, continuing on from what she'd tried to say at first. "Are an idiot!"
"W-What?"
"I made out with you when you came to the Club. I literally made out with you, and you didn't do anything. No calls, no texts, not even so much as a peep from you! What kind of guy does that!? To ME!? I'll tell you what kind of guy, no kind of guy!"
"W-What?" Jaune looked up at her and then quickly away. Even Yang had to admit Miltia looked to be somewhere between make out or `make dead`. "B-But you didn't contact me, either. You didn't say anything."
Ooh, poor choice of words.
"I didn't-?" Miltia drew a deep breath. It did precisely nothing for her temper. "I made out with you! In front of my sister. In front of a whole load of people." She threw a hand back, indicating them. "In front of all your customers now! The making out was the message, you dense fucker! What, do I need to pin a poster of myself naked to your wall with the caption `I want some fukk` written underneath it or something? Is that how I make you realise I like you?"
Jaune gaped like a fish. "You like me…?"
Yang winced.
Weiss slapped her forehead.
Blake almost fell out her chair.
Someone else did, leaning too far for a better view.
Miltia Malachite looked down at Jaune, looked up at the ceiling, and then let out a strangled scream.
"Oh my God! What did I do to deserve this? Damn it, Jaune. Most people would get the idea you dislike them after you stab 'em in the chest, but somehow you don't think a girl making out with you is her way of saying she likes you? Are you even human? Is your brain power occupied making sure you don't forget to breathe!?"
"Um…" Jaune raised a finger.
Miltia grabbed it and pushed it aside.
Then, she descended once more.
Yang had seen kisses. Even experienced a few. She didn't think she'd ever seen something like this, though. She watched wide-eyed, unsure if she was witnessing passion or a scene from a zombie flick. Miltia certainly had the face-eating part down.
"Oh wow," Blake whispered, head tilting to the side.
Yang's tilted as well.
When Miltia was done, she stood calmly and brushed her skirt down, uncaring for the shell-shocked audience, rolling cameras or awed expressions. Her eyes were fixed on Jaune, who looked more than a little comatose. Comatose, but deliriously and stupidly happy, cheeks flushed, eyes wide open.
"Friday," she said. "Tomorrow. You and me are going on a date. A romantic date if me somehow pinning you to the floor didn't make it abundantly fucking clear I'm into you. If this date doesn't somehow end with your tongue in my mouth, you'll have done something wrong. Got it?"
"G-Got it…"
"Any complaints? You're allowed to say no. This is your chance to say you're not interested and back out, because if you say yes now, you're signing a waiver with me. I don't play nice, and I sure as hell don't let something I like the look of get away."
"M-Meet you at seven?"
Miltia's grin was vicious. "Seven. See you there, lover boy."
And just like that, without a care in the world, Miltia turned and flounced away, head held high and a wide smile on her face, unheeding of her smeared lipstick or all those watching in shock and awe. The bell above the door chimed as she opened it and stepped outside, and her smug face passed by the windows as she walked away.
The silence was broken by slow, sarcastic applause.
"Oh shut up, Russel," Jaune groaned.
"This," Blake decided, turning back to their table. Other tables came to life, animatedly discussing what they'd just seen. An obviously married couple stood awkwardly and rushed outside, no doubt about to recreate the scene in the privacy of their own home. "This is the kind of entertainment you don't get at a normal café. Ruby is going to be horrified she missed it."
"I'm horrified I saw it," Weiss said, though it was said without heat and there was a soft flush to her cheeks. "What do-" She paused, realising that one of their number was still staring at the door. "Yang? Yang?"
Yang turned back, huge smile on her face, eyes shining.
"I think I've found my spirit animal."
"Yang, no…"
Miltia Malachite does not play games.
Café Prime, on the other hand, does. An honest deal was offered, but one designed to help them get out of this last bit of trouble. Sadly, Jaune's a stubborn one. As stubborn as he is dense in some regards.
Honestly, I have some sympathy and while some people say, "No real person could be as dense as an anime character", I kind of shuffle awkwardly because I certainly was! It took someone who liked me basically shouting it out and pointing out all the – in hindsight – obvious cues they'd given that I'd somehow missed. Some more obvious than Miltia's in this story.
I guess that's the thing about being young, though. No one knows exactly how to come out and say it.
We also get to see anime, stories or fanfiction from an outward point of view, with no preconceptions or emotions clouding our judgment.
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur