Chapter 5
To be fair, he expected a lecture. But he certainly never expected a stalker.
Said stalker glared at his hood, her pale blue eyes trying to burn the innocent piece of midnight-blue fabric.
"You should take that off," Weiss said. "You can't just flout the rules of Atlas Primary."
Nex shrugged, loping away from the lockers. "Get off my back, Weiss. Do whatever it is you do before Dust Practical."
Flats clacked over tiles. She was following him through the hallway. He sighed, weaving around the gossiping students. Trying to lose his unwanted disciplinarian. But still, Weiss the She-devil caught up with him, matching his fevered pace.
Fuck.
"I won't," Weiss said, fixing him a pointed stare. "You're my partner in Dust Practical. We have an image to maintain."
Buzz off. His semblance shrunk into a mewl. He sighed and relaxed his pace. No point in rushing when she moved fast enough to walk beside him. Evidently, being almost the same height as him gave the woman strides of similar length to his.
"Correction," Nex said. "You have an image to maintain. Or did you think I have an image with these ears on my head?"
They did not define him. But they marked him in the eyes of the other students.
Weiss flinched, red dusting her cheeks. "That's unfair, Nex. That's not what I meant to imply."
Nex raised an eyebrow, his brain spitting out so many words for that. And he was definitely having trouble choosing. "Then what did you mean to imply? That we have an image to maintain? There's no we in the equation, Weiss. It's only you and your image. I could drop out tomorrow and no one would care."
And that was the truth. He maintained no image, because ghosts did not have an image. Not even in the mirror of his bathroom, shrouded in darkness as their flat was. He flitted through the halls and classrooms of Atlas Primary, unnoticed by the bulk of its students. A blessing, perhaps. But the woman hounding him clearly missed the memo.
"I only meant to say that everyone should follow the rules!" Weiss said, huffing as she threw up her arms. "I didn't mean to imply whatever it is you think I'm implying."
Nex sighed, palming his forehead. This woman. "I'm sorry. Just leave my hood alone. It's not harming anyone, is it?"
Weiss glanced at the hood wrapped around his shoulders. "No. But the teachers may reprimand you. And by extension, us."
Curse whatever caused the storm yesterday. This woman. Stepping through the doors of his sanctuary. Bugging him about his hood for the first time since the start of the second semester. Despite the fact that he wore it almost every day. It certainly made for an amazing blanket while he slept through his classes.
"You haven't really noticed, have you?" Nex said.
Weiss quirked an eyebrow. "Noticed what?"
"The teachers don't care about me," Nex said. "I've been using this hood since day one."
A half-lie. The teachers did reprimand him during his first year in Atlas Primary. But then they gave up when he persisted, their sermons entering one ear and exiting through another. They could not possibly do anything against him, with him having above-average grades and holding the first place in the rankings of combat class. He had his overloaded semblance to thank for that. It made cramming five minutes before an exam easy. Trouncing green trainees while dodging their attacks—practically guaranteed.
"No, I haven't noticed," Weiss said, her eyes narrowing. "But it's not right."
Nex chuckled, rolling his eyes at the opaque doors of the lab. "You know, that's the weakest argument you've made since the start of this conversation."
Right and wrong were relative. Even better: right and wrong did not exist, artificial constructs made by people as they were. A futile effort to paint the world in black and white. Shit just happened. It did not matter if it was right or wrong.
"And what is that supposed to mean, Shade?" Weiss said as they slipped into the lab, mingling with the other students. "I'm only making sure that you don't cross the rules and get expelled."
"Expelled?" Nex said, managing a smile. They could not expel a ghost. And they could not afford to expel anyone. Atlas Academy would lose out on its precious soldiers if they did. "Nope. Why do you care so much, anyway?"
Weiss scowled, settling into their shared desk. "I don't even know why I bother. Fine. Do what you want."
Finally.
Nex sank into his seat. The professor began his lecture, waffling about the interaction between gravity dust and ice dust. He already figured it out three days ago, when Weiss made the fancy snow globe. Thus, he closed his eyes and returned to the comforting darkness.
Or at least, in theory.
A hard shoe kicked the side of his calf. The she-devil glared at him from her seat.
This woman.
"What?" Nex said, glancing at the she-devil. "Can't a man get some sleep?"
Oh, dust no. Why him. Why did the school have to partner him with this she-devil. Why did she have to enter the Huntsman's Respite yesterday...
"You should pay attention," Weiss said, lowering her voice. "This discussion is of vital importance. Professor Rust may even give a pop quiz."
Pop his head off, why don't she.
Where was Neo when he needed her? Burst through the glass doors and commit mass genocide or something. At least then, he could have scored some shut-eye if he ignored the screams of pain and the splashing of blood.
"Right," Nex said, rolling his eyes. "If I get a perfect score on this hypothetical pop quiz, will you leave me alone?"
Weiss smirked. "If you don't, you'll do what I say. You better remove that hood, Shade. It won't last tomorrow."
This woman.
This she-devil.
How eloquent of her.
Nex rolled his eyes, dumping a metric fuckton of aura into his semblance. The man's lecture crystallized into pure stimulus, searing his brain as it made connections and gleaned everything on the topic. By the end of it all, he could have replaced the man behind the teacher's desk for the rest of the morning. He closed his eyes and pulled down his hood, drifting off without interruption. Until his ears picked up on what he wanted the professor to say.
"Alright! Time for a pop quiz. Just to see if you've been paying attention."
Nex sighed, pulling out his scroll. The pop quiz flashed on his screen.
He definitely anticipated all of them. The perfect score was his, along with blissful silence. His fingers danced over the scroll, typing at a speed only seasoned hackers on dwindling life support could achieve. He filled out the blanks, scrolling down to the end of the pop quiz.
Nex paused, blinking at the last question. What the hell? And it was not even a bonus.
What is my surname?—Professor Rusty
His fingers stopped typing, frozen over the holographic keys.
Weiss smirked, shooting him a sideways glance. Hood, she mouthed.
Nex groaned even as her smirk eased into a smile.
The bell finally rang.
Nex leapt from his seat. The she-devil followed, latching on to his arm with both of hers. She pulled his arm close to her chest. This woman. He sighed, dragging her behind as he slipped out of the lab. The throng of students passed them by, snickering. Definitely at them.
"What are you doing?" Nex said, glancing at the woman. Her black flats slid over the white floor. "You don't like my arm that much, do you?"
Weiss released his arm, flushing as she moved to walk beside him. "I want to make sure that you don't renege on our terms. Your hood, Shade."
Weiss held out a hand, grinning as she did. She lifted her chin. She honestly looked like she just won the Atlas lottery. They paused in front of the lockers. The students on the entire block moved away. He stared at her. She seemed serious. She totally was. This could not be happening. Anyone but him.
"Fine," Nex said, rolling his eyes. He rolled his eyes a lot since the start of the second semester. At least, more than usual. "A promise is a promise."
Nex unpinned the hood from his collar, shrugging it off his shoulders. The midnight-blue fabric slid off his arm, even after he placed it on her waiting palm.
Weiss glanced at his hood. The she-devil folded the article of clothing and tucked it under her arm. She nodded, flashing him a smile.
"Now we'll go to the mess hall," Weiss said as if she were a princess. Not far off the mark, considering her background. "After we finish eating, we'll study World History and Dust Practical to make up for the lessons you've slept through."
Nex sighed, glancing at his scroll. Hours before his night shift at the Huntsman's Respite and no mercenary work lined up. But still. "Why? I gave you my hood. It's yours. I don't have to do anything else."
Oh gods, no. Unless—the exact words of their Faustian bargain flashed. Do what she says. The scream died in his throat. A promise was a promise—and he would not be himself if he backed out of even one. It was a matter of principle.
"Oh? I seem to recall what you said," Weiss said, smirking. "A promise is a promise, Nex. Your words, not mine."
Nex shrugged. His memorial would display: dead due to persistent she-devils and their ridiculous rules. "Alright. Fine. Let's go."
Besides, he did not have anything to lose. He could afford to humour her for a while, until she inevitably grew tired of him.
People always did.
They entered the cafeteria—a mess hall filled with benches and tables and the sweet, sweet scent of bagels mingling with warm, bitter coffee. Heads spun when they settled at a lone table by the corner.
Weiss placed her tray on the cold metal. She chose croissants instead of bagels, but she had surprisingly ordinary taste. He certainly expected an Atlesian high-bred monstrosity on her plate, some sort of dish that his tongue could not pronounce. But he was immeasurably disappointed, and his day—ruined.
Weiss sat across him, nibbling on a croissant. "Tell me more about yourself."
"Is this an interrogation?" Nex said. He already told her everything he could yesterday. "I'm not sure what else to tell you."
Why was she even bothering to ask, anyway?
Nothing about him was remotely interesting. His was just another story on the floating city of Atlas. And he certainly never once claimed or thought he was special. Definitely not when the streets of Mantle were packed full with the refuse of Atlas. Or at least, those that did not turn to underhanded methods like him.
"No, it's not," Weiss replied, shaking her head. "I just want to get better acquainted with my lab partner."
Nex shrugged, biting into his bagels. "Nexus Shade. Faunus. Student at Atlas Primary. Lab partner and now apparently personal slave of Weiss Schnee."
Weiss flinched, dropping a croissant back to her plate. "You don't have to be so blunt, Shade. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
"Then you shouldn't have asked," Nex said, rolling his eyes. "So I wouldn't have to answer."
Weiss scoffed, her eyes sharpening into daggers. "What have I done to warrant your passive-aggression? I would have you tell me, so we can clear the air between us."
And his brain had a lot of replies for that one. So much so that he was even having trouble figuring out which one to use. Or how to even phrase them. In the end, she was Weiss Schnee and he was Nexus Shade. She was born into a world of rules and restrictions, while he plunged himself into a free and lawless world.
"I don't know," Nex said, cracking his neck. "Maybe it's because you insist on imposing the school's inane rules? Or on forcing me to study? It must be one of the two, right?"
Weiss sighed, her eyes fixed on the croissants on her plate. "I'm doing this for your own well-being, Nex."
His well-being?
Admittedly, he slept far less than the average person. Ate even less. But that did not mean that she could simply barge into his life and redecorate as she saw fit. Nexus Shade lived alone in the darkness of their flat. He swung his weapons and tinkered with his gadgets, ghosting through the dying hours of the night. Nothing else mattered to him. Him. The sixteen-year-old orphaned faunus. An anonymous thief. A criminal.
Nothing else.
Nex hung his head over a half-empty plate. "I'm sorry. I have to go."
He stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets. He would definitely miss his hood. Hell, he was already missing it.
"Wait," Weiss said, her voice climbing. "You can't just leave. You promised. What happened to us spending Study Hall in the library?"
Nex shrugged, turning his back on the she-devil. "I can and I will leave. Keep the hood, Weiss. Maybe it can serve you while you study."
Nex strode away, heaving a sigh.
Weiss muttered something under her breath.
But it must have been the wind.
Chapter 6
"I thought you wanted to be friends. What happened to people being more than what they are?"
Nex ghosted through the gates of Atlas Primary. Yellow rays splashed his face, the warmth seeping into his nose. The northern kingdom of Remnant radiated cold, but that did not mean it remained in perpetual ice. His brain could wax some more lyrical poetry about it, if not for the hand that pressed on his shoulder.
Qrow Branwen ruffled his hair, the huntsman standing right beside him. "School's out early?"
"Nope," Nex said, stopping at a red light. He had to wait for it to flash green. Unless he wanted to turn into paste. "We have Study Hall for the entire afternoon. Fourth years get a lot of free time."
He used that free time to train or to do less than reputable jobs before he showed up at the Huntsman's Respite. But apparently, Weiss used hers to study in the library. Alone. Alone in the world while he drifted around a block, burying himself in his thoughts. Something crawled into his chest and committed self-murder.
"And you're not using that time to score some?" Qrow said, smirking as they crossed the pedestrian lane. "Tsk. I thought you were cool."
Nex shrugged, dislodging the hand from his shoulder. "I don't see the metaphor. What does scoring have to do with Study Hall?"
Minus the intended goal, anyway.
Qrow's entire body sagged. "I give up. You're hopeless, kid."
He got one thing right.
Nex traced the sidewalk, circling around a building. He journeyed into neverland, his eyes rolling to the back of his lids. His breath came out as puffs of white mist.
Qrow followed him, taking infrequent sips from his flask. The busy crowds parted around them. Trifling with huntsmen on the streets of Atlas was unwise, especially since the birdbrain appeared to be drinking in broad daylight.
"Why are you even here, anyway?" Nex said. "I thought you were going on a secret mission."
Qrow deposited his flask into his back pocket. "Schedule's been moved down. Military's dealing with the literal shitstorm yesterday."
Nex hummed, moving past a particular lamppost for the third time.
The birdbrain gave it a pointed stare.
"Something's bothering you," Qrow said. "You don't just circle around a barbecue place for no reason. And you haven't even called me birdbrain yet."
How astute of him. Give the huntsman a medal for noticing the little details while drunk. Unfortunately, he did not have one of those. They cost a lot of lien—a resource he could not afford to spend on a whim.
"I think I messed up," Nex said. "I need a drink, birdbrain."
Qrow smirked, his hand reaching into his pocket. "And there it is. I've got the drink covered. What's troubling the broody kid?"
Really? Nope. He would not turn into Qrow—a huntsman drinking in the middle of the day. And he had standards. Low ones, admittedly. But not low enough to resort to alcohol abuse.
"I'll pass on the drink," Nex said. "It's a troublesome woman."
Qrow grinned, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. The taller man steered him through the crowd, pressing him against his abdomen. "I take back everything I said. You're back to being the cool kid. Tell me about this girl."
Nex frowned.
Who was Weiss Schnee?
The answer seemed obvious. She was the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company—a mega-corporation well-known for its less-than-reputable workforce and questionable business policies. She was a world-renowned singer—a classical musician who performed on glamorous stages all over the world. She was his lab partner—a smart and talented student, responsible and a stickler for rules.
Evidently, Weiss possessed every trait he lacked.
"She's my lab partner," Nex said. "A she-devil who's trying to push the school's stupid rules over me."
Qrow chuckled, the huntsman's arm unwrapping from his shoulder. "Sounds rough. I know the type myself. You think she's pretty?"
It was irrelevant. Pretty or not, Weiss would still be Weiss. That was, a she-devil who took away what little sleep he could get and pushed him to study and follow the rules.
"I don't care if she's pretty or not," Nex said. "She just won't leave me alone."
And that was the crux of the issue. The reason behind the storm in his gut.
Qrow reached into his pocket and pulled out his flask, taking a swig. "Kid. That's rare. Both ways, huh?"
"What?" Nex said. The huntsman spoke nonsense—a far cry from his words at the memorial.
"I'm saying," Qrow said, shoving his flask back into his pocket. "What you've found is sodding rare. You do talk to her, right?"
Nex chuckled, rolling his eyes at the crowd. "Yep. And I think that's where I messed up."
A two-pronged mess, even. First at the lockers, then second in the mess hall. Curse his acerbic tongue.
Qrow smiled and tapped his cheek with a ringed finger. The ring bore the glimmer of gold, engravings carved into its well-polished surface. "Then go fix it. Talk to her. You're not getting cold feet, are you?"
Nex sighed, stopping at the same red light where their conversation began. "I don't think I can fix this one."
Weiss was not one of his machines or his weapons, or even his semblance or fighting style. He could not simply replace or tinker with her parts to suit his needs.
"You think you can't," Qrow said. "But it doesn't hurt to try, does it?"
Admittedly, Qrow spoke the truth. If he stopped trying, then nothing would ever change. The world hammered that nail into him, but Qrow reminded him of its existence.
"Alright," Nex said, peering at the cold walls of Atlas Primary. He took a deep breath, wounding his tongue over the bite of chill. "I'll go talk to her. But you owe me a steak if it doesn't work out."
Qrow hummed, smiling as the light turned orange. "I get the feeling you'll work out. What's her name again?"
"Weiss," Nex said. "Weiss Schnee."
"Oh," Qrow said, mouth gaping into a small circle. The huntsman's eyes were fixed on his extra pair of ears. "Well, that just means she's extra challenging. Want me to ask her sister for tips? Hell, I'm pretty sure I can get the ice queen to talk to you personally."
Nex shook his head, waving at the huntsman as he crossed the street. "Nope. Don't need either. Bye."
"Cheeky kid," Qrow muttered behind him. The huntsman sighed. "Dense as a rock too."
Nex flitted through the gates of the school. The sparse students stepped out of his way. He tuned them out as he always did. His feet padded towards the one place he only ever visited once—the library. He stood before the stained doors, his scroll hovering over the terminal. The one-way glass revealed nothing. The scroll in his hand flickered, waiting for its owner to grow a pair of balls and open the double doors.
Nex sighed. In for a penny...
The glass slid open. Cool air stroked his face, followed by the scent of crisp books. He stepped into the library, glancing at the rows upon columns of long tables. The staff behind the counters stared at him. No doubt his presence surprised the attendants. Understandable, considering that he was even surprising himself.
A head of platinum white peeked out of a corner, surrounded by tables upon tables of other students—boys and girls who were not studying at all. They snickered at her back, pointing as they whispered hushed words among themselves. Words too faint for his extra pair of ears.
Weiss sat at a long table with eight chairs. Mountains of books conquered the desk, waging a war against paper on wood. She sighed, cupping her forehead with her right hand and scribbling something with her left. Her eyes squinted at her notebook, her pen dancing on a page. She soldiered on with her undoubtedly self-appointed task.
Nex pulled up the seat across her, ignoring the sudden silence that drowned the pointless chatter. "Hey, Weiss."
Weiss looked up from her notebook. Her shoulders stiffened, her right hand slamming into the wooden table. "Nex? What are you doing here?"
Admittedly, he wanted to ask that question as well. But that would have been asinine—talking to himself would lead to a condition some called insanity.
Nex sat on the wooden chair, glancing at the loose pieces of paper. "The Battle of Fort Castle? That's the one where a human general lost to the faunus, right?"
Weiss nodded, raising an eyebrow. "Yes. General Lagune lost because he ambushed the faunus at the stroke of midnight, unaware that faunus have natural night vision. You know?"
Nex shrugged, leafing through the stack of papers. Meticulous handwriting reminiscent of his own covered the sheets of white. "Of course I do. Come on, Weiss. There's a reason why I'm still in this school."
As well as a reason why he worked with two of the best criminals in the underworld. And believe it or not, he did read books. Treatises on underhanded politics and history Mekel kept under the counter, their purpose being to pass the hours of the graveyard shift. He read them liberally, engaging his semblance. It produced more efficient results than just simple light reading.
"I see. Then why are you here?" Weiss said, fixing him a blue-eyed stare. "You don't have to do what I say. You're not my personal slave or whatever it is you said earlier."
"Nope," Nex said, smiling at the unknown. "I'm doing this out of my own free will. I made you a promise, right?"
Weiss growled, her pen screeching to a halt. "Don't play games with me, Shade. What are you really after?"
Nex sighed. Fuckity fuck.
This woman. Troublesome did not begin to describe her. She wanted him to study with her in the library. Now that he was here, she assumed he intended to play games with her.
Ugh.
His brain spat out Qrow's words.
Screw it. He might as well try.
"Look, I'm sorry for earlier," Nex said. "I'm just uncomfortable with being trapped by rules I don't want to follow."
Weiss nodded, her eyebrows furrowing. "Apology accepted. You still haven't answered why you're here, Nex."
"I want to be friends, Weiss," Nex said. "I want to study with you. Eat lunch with you. Please don't make me continue this speech."
In hindsight, he could have said something worse.
Fire swam into his cheeks.
Foolishness.
Utter foolishness.
Her eyes snapped towards his, shards of ice boring holes into his skull.
Weiss pursed her lips. Her pen tapped her notebook, never really writing anything. Tap, tap, and tap. She seemed to be searching for something. And that something was apparently hidden within the depths of his golden eyes.
"I'm sorry as well," Weiss said, breathing a soft sigh. "I'm sorry for forcing you to change. I can tell how important your identity is to you."
Nex shrugged. "It's fine, I guess. But where does this leave us?"
A million-lien question.
He definitely needed to hear the answer, or else his trip to the library would turn out to be a waste. The grandfather clock in the background ticked. Tick-tack. One. Two. And three. The three seconds turned into three minutes, neither of them really doing anything. Frozen in time, his brain supplied, just in case he was in the mood to recite some poetic prose. At the end of it all, he wanted to slump into the table and take a nap. But then that would defeat his purpose in coming here.
"We're friends then," Weiss finally said, flashing him a brilliant smile. "And lab partners. Do you want your hood back?"
She tapped the folded fabric, nudging it towards him.
Nex shook his head, matching her smile. "Nope. Keep it. What do you want us to study?"
Might as well. Nothing to lose, right?
"You are serious about this," Weiss said, grinning as she glanced at his hood. "Very well then. Let's start with the Mantle Frequency..."
Chapter 7
For this year's dustival..."
Nex cringed at the professor's pun. Half the class did the same. He promptly attempted to fuse his face with his arms. A hard shoe slid against his calf—a gentle reminder that this final discussion was, in fact, of utmost importance.
Weiss sat beside him, back painfully straight and hands perfectly flat on their shared desk.
He would have believed that the professor had one-hundred and ten per cent of her attention, if not for the fact that she kept one frosty eye trained on him. At all times and no exceptions. If he so much as yawned or closed his eyes, the she-devil would accidentally raise her foot and shake her head. Almost imperceptible to anyone but him. But then again, no one else had her for a partner in Dust Practical.
He eventually learned to read her tells over the long, long weeks they spent attached to each other. Much to his chagrin. He had to. His aura, while definitely way above hers, could only shield him so much from her fearsome flats.
"Signal Academy of Vale has agreed to host—"
He could not care less. Between the two of them, Weiss had the caring part covered.
Was Mekel right? Was it too late to quit school and travel Remnant as a bard, singing songs to people and awing them into silence? It was definitely safer for his legs.
"To that end, I would like to congratulate—"
Signal Academy. The name seemed familiar. Wait, Signal was the school where—
"Weiss Schnee and Nexus Shade for being chosen as this year's representatives. The pair will present a—"
Qrow Branwen taught at Signal.
He dropped all possible excuses as to why he could not attend. Qrow would have clucked and called him a chicken if he called in sick. Well, he never attended one of these festivals before. Atlas Primary only required attendance from graduating fourth years. It was a prime opportunity to network with staff and students from the other schools. He had extenuating circumstances—reasons why he did not want to attend. But extenuating circumstances be damned if he was going to be clucked at by a drunk birdbrain.
There was absolutely no way that was going to happen.
Nope.
Not now.
Not in the future.
"Waivers will be handed out, to be signed by your parents—"
Parents. Could he buy one of those?
Nex half-groaned, stopping when his partner shot him a sideways glance.
"Those whose parents could not sign due to valid circumstances are allowed to have the forms signed by an interim guardian. It will be your prerogative—"
A guardian. Shoot his brains out. What guardian? Did a wanted thief, an irresponsible drunk, or a tight-lipped ice queen count?
He was scraping the dirt outside the barrel here, listing off all the adults he knew. Gods forbid. There was also Mekel. Would his boss even let him go to another continent? Would Mekel even sign the waiver if he asked him to?
"Once again, I would like to congratulate Miss Schnee and Mr Shade, and kindly remind them that Atlas Primary is relying on their innovative minds to represent our school in this year's Sanus Festival. And to the rest of you—good luck with your projects. Dismissed."
Congratulate—what?
Weiss glowed, her skin exuding radiance only possible in those cheesy face-wash commercials. There was no way she really was smiling in his direction.
Fat chance.
Evidently, Weiss thought so as well. She smoothed her pale features, but she could not completely remove the smile from her face.
"We'll have to get to work immediately," Weiss said. "Nex! We have to work on it immediately!"
He got that the first time. What it was remained a mystery. Dare he even ask?
"What exactly do you mean?" Nex said, raising an eyebrow.
His partner's Weiss-bubble exploded.
Weiss scowled. "You weren't listening, were you?"
"I was listening," Nex said, nodding to himself. Yep. It was true. He just so happened to miss all the important bits. Time for a nice save. "But I wanted to know your thoughts. What do you have in mind?"
Weiss cupped her chin with one hand, waving at the double doors with the other. "Let's discuss this somewhere else. Professor Rust wouldn't want us to overstay in the lab."
Evidently, the nice save worked.
One point for Nexus Shade.
Probably a billion for Weiss Schnee.
Nex held the glass open, smiling when his partner practically skipped out of the lab. "Sure. The room's getting stuffy anyway."
Weiss stopped in front of her locker, retrieving her weapon and her scroll. An entire line of students removed themselves from the block.
Nex stood by her side, wolf ears drooping as he opened his own locker. Hrunting and Vigilance leaned against the back of the box, joined in eternal matrimony. There was something poetic about this—some lyrical prose his brain could wax—but he really had something else to do now.
He grabbed his weapon. A sharp, whistling sound slammed into his ears. His semblance screamed, lines of data surging through his brain. Extrapolating in a millisecond. He stepped a little bit to the left.
A fist smashed into the locker.
Ouch.
"That must have hurt," Nex said, glancing at the burly student. The one who just crashed his hand into the titanium locker. "Are you okay?"
"What the fuck, Weiss?!" the boy said.
Evidently, the person who almost had their head caved in was Weiss Schnee. His partner spun to look at their fellow student. Her eyes narrowed, replaced by a turbulent storm.
"Why are you with—with him of all people?" the burly student continued, his voice soaring to heights only a teenage boy could reach. "He's a, he's a—"
Nothing new there.
Nex smiled, nodding as he shut his locker, his weapon safely retrieved. "Breathe, man. Breathe. I know it's hard to say what we want to say sometimes, but if you look for courage in the deepest recesses of your heart—"
"Shut the fuck up," the boy said, fixing him a glare. "You filthy faunus!"
A meaty fist swung towards his eyes.
Nex twisted on his heel. The world froze, fading into grey like wine swirling in a half-empty glass.
The fist grazed his hair.
The passive manifestation of his semblance was always a godsend. If his partner's fastest lunge could not hit him, then there was no way a brawler could.
Not with such a telegraphed blow.
"Rude," Nex said, smiling as another punch missed his body by inches. "Weiss, a little help?"
It was possible this student was a paid actor. Paid to incite violence, at least. There was a limit to how much combat was tolerated in the halls of Atlas Primary. He wanted to test that limit, preferably by sending the racist to the hospital, but it was highly probable that doing so would erase his chances of showing up the drunk birdbrain. Revenge in the present or revenge in the future? It was hardly a difficult choice to make. The wait would make it more satisfying.
A black glyph tinkled into existence.
The boy's body stiffened, his eyes wide on his pudgy face.
Nex slouched against the locker, quirking his eyebrows at the spectators. He must have done something right, as they turned a blind eye to his partner while she paralyzed another student.
Huh.
School was starting to feel more like his hometown. All that was missing were some cheap prostitutes, a bowl of tuna, and a pair of Atlesian leather boots.
"Harold Silverstein," Weiss said. "Leave my partner alone."
"What will your father do once he hears about this, Weiss?" Hard-on Silverstain said. "He won't agree with your choice of friend."
That emphasis on the singular was definitely being a bit on the nose.
Nex could have closed his eyes on that one, shrugged, and walked away.
But his lab partner?
Certainly not.
Weiss scowled, her glare nose-diving into subzero temperatures. "Don't call me by my first name. We are neither friends nor acquaintances, Mr Silverstein."
"You can't do this to me! I'm the headmaster's son!" Hard-on said, snarling as he squirmed against the glyph. The one spinning on his chest. "Let me go!"
"You may be the headmaster's son. But I'm the heiress of the SDC," Weiss said, smirking as she lifted her chin. "But very well. As you desire, Mr Silverstein."
The pudgy boy flew like a bird, cutting a swath towards the very hard and very solid ceiling.
Thud.
The other students winced, most of them collectively laughing.
Weiss grabbed his arm and dragged him through the crowded hallway. Her white fringe almost managed to hide the scathing look on her face.
"Let's go," Weiss murmured. "We have a lot to discuss."
Her hand moulded around his arm, her palm dotted only by a few callouses.
Nex shook his head. Going with the flow and all. Sliding through the lines of students was better than walking. That was his story. He was sticking to it. Come hell or high water. Or a snowball in Vacuo. Definitely one of those, judging from how her nails bit into his skin.
They slipped out of the main building, the glass doors sliding shut.
Weiss released his arm. "We should go to the library and draft a plan."
"The library?" Nex said, glancing at the school gate just beyond the statue. Admittedly, they hung out in the library a lot. But a change in scenery would be nice. "Wouldn't you rather go to a coffee shop instead? We don't have any more classes for the day."
Weiss nodded, flashing him a smile. "You come up with the best ideas, Nex. Let's go then."
Strokes of orange burned the Atlesian skyline, bathing the jungle outside with a familiar light.
Nex sat against the glass, coffee-crusted mugs and pens and paper strewn across their table.
The polished, brown wood of the Coffee Table smelled like something in-between yes, I'm this rich and I sold my left kidney to sit here. There was absolutely no way he would have entered such an establishment four years ago. No matter how much Roman insisted that being a seven-digit, underage thief was useless if he did not spend his cash on anything. It was pointless. Sitting alone in a dumb, fancy cafe when he could have made himself better coffee at home for a cheaper price.
But looking at the woman sitting across him, typing something into her scroll, maybe, just maybe, there was a point to it after all.
Nex smiled, leaning back into the softest chair ever. The way it bounced back was the way life was. People bounced back, even if life tended to lean into them from time to time. His brain melted into mush, evaporating into the toasty, caffeinated air. It strolled into his nostrils. The warmth of his mother's embrace, whispering words. It was going to be alright. The future would turn out to be okay. He had a future. The same as every other person in the world.
"Is there something on my face?" Weiss said, looking up from her scroll. "You've been smiling and staring at me for quite a while."
He wanted to say the croissant she just ate was stuck to her face, but it would have been a blatant lie.
"Nothing," Nex said, breathing a sigh. "Just thinking about life."
"Life?" Weiss said, pink creeping up her neck. "Do you always daydream about such things while looking at other people?"
Nex shrugged, pushing his scroll towards her. His fingers never remained idle while there was work to be done. "Just now, I think. Anyways, we have a problem."
Weiss glared at the 3D blueprint of their robot, scrutinizing every detail. She wanted something that could represent Atlas and win, while he had the know-how on the Atlesian mechs—programming, mechanisms, and all. He had a broken mech and Roman's data to thank for that. Not that the master criminal would be proud he was using his talents for a school project, instead of something grander like a time heist.
There were drastic alterations to the design, of course. Things that made the robot more efficient, practical, and definitely cuter. Once his partner saw the logic behind his hastily sketched design, she was all too happy to stop questioning how he knew what he knew and instead turned her energies into making their project a reality.
"I don't see anything wrong," Weiss said, grinning as her eyes widened. "It's perfect. This is amazing. Wonderful. We'll have the best presentation for sure."
Nex nodded, offering her a smile. "I do my best. But the problem has more to do with me. I don't think I have anyone to sign my waiver."
"Where are your parents?" Weiss said, frowning. "Don't you have anyone staying with you?"
Gee, Weiss. Score one for sensitivity.
But there was no point in clawing open his own scars.
Nex shrugged. "My mom died when I was seven. I never knew my dad, and no one really noticed a single kid in the crowd. So, nope. No one's living with me. I kinda grew up alone."
Weiss gasped like someone lifted her up by the throat and repeatedly jabbed their fist into her stomach. "That's—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
Nex smiled. The topic never really came up before. "It's fine. You didn't know."
"It's not fine!" Weiss said. A few customers in the shop turned their heads. She flushed, coughing as she cleared her throat. "Why didn't anyone take care of you? There's a system for this in Atlas."
"It doesn't matter," Nex said, stifling a sigh. "The system doesn't really work, does it?"
If it did, then there would be fewer hungry orphans, fewer Roman Torchwicks on the streets, and less separation between people from different walks of life. But the world could never be as clear-cut as she perceived it.
Weiss saw the world in silence and in black and white. In reality, it was in shades of grey and in conflicting colours. But their minds were wired too differently. There was no point in trying to convince her—as she was right now.
"I disagree," Weiss said, her lips pulled into a flat line. As expected. "But there has to be some way you can get your waiver signed. In a completely legal manner, mind you."
His partner stopped him before he could even suggest forging someone's signature. Truly, she was the gift that kept on giving.
Did they do refunds at the gift shop?
Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. "There's no way that I'm going to Vale without my partner. The festival needs a pair. How about an interim guardian?"
"I know a few people," Nex said. "I'll have to do some Hrunting."
Weiss arched an eyebrow. It was definitely lost on her. "Hrunting?"
Nex shrugged. Fuck the puns then. Just one last time. "What can I say? You need Vigilance to get it."
Chapter 8
To be fair, he expected the familiar faces. He certainly expected Neo to port in for a free strawberry sunrise. He even expected Mekel to be absent on a long vacation somewhere in Menagerie, which was admittedly inconvenient. But he certainly did not expect the ice queen herself to slip through the sliding doors.
The ice queen dressed like she always did. All white with black accents. She skirted past the pile of sweaty bodies, wading through the strobing neon lights and passing by the couches and the hardwood tables.
She paused at the counter, sitting on a stool as she tapped the glass, probably waiting for him to stop in front of her. It was a sluggish hour, with most of the customers inebriated enough for conversation to flow like the wine.
Nex already cut most of them off, and no one else passed through the sliding doors for quite some time.
"Here for a drink?" Nex said. The ice queen's usual companion was missing. "Qrow's not around, is he?"
There would be little conversation from her. Without Qrow, at least. But he had been wrong before.
What was her name again?
White? Whitley? Winter?
Yep. Winter. That was the name.
"No, he's not here. I'm here on my own business," Winter said, her blue eyes peering through her side fringe. "I'll have some red wine."
"House wine?" Nex said, wiping the counter with a rag. "Or do you want a bottle of something specific?"
Winter stared at the cabinet behind him. It displayed bottles of exotic wine and brandy that Mekel had obsessively gathered from all over Remnant. His boss instructed him to serve them if someone asked. In Mekel's own words, there was no point in alcohol if no one was going to drink it.
Nex had to agree, despite being an infrequent and irregular drinker himself. He only ever drank if someone offered, and nobody was lining up to offer him a drink.
"I'll have a bottle of the Mistralian Nightshade," Winter said. "Chilled to the right temperature of course."
Nex placed the bottle of fine wine on the glass counter.
It was pitch-black, revealing nothing about its contents. A gold-encrusted label betrayed that it was indeed the Mistralian Nightshade. Right now, the bottle was exactly at room temperature.
Nex raised one hand while fingering some ice dust with the other. Specks of frost snaked around the bottle. There was no need to rush. Slow and steady was the way to go. His semblance engaged, predicting the right amount of dust and aura needed to chill the wine to the perfect temperature.
When he was done, he popped open the airtight cork, pouring his customer a flute with a practised flourish. Mekel was insistent his bartenders knew how to serve the rich and the stuck-up.
Etiquette 101. It had its uses from time to time. Certainly more useful than Thievery 101.
"Hm. Exactly the right temperature. An interesting trick," Winter said, brushing the flute with a polished nail. "I assume that not every bartender is a dust mage?"
Nex shrugged. "I learned the basics. It's handy on the job."
"Nothing about that was basic," Winter said, shooting him a look. "Others would need either a machine or a mountain of luck to replicate what you just did. I should know. I'm a dust mage myself."
Nex smiled, wiping another mug. Probably the forty-seventh. "Then I guess I'm just lucky."
There was nothing lucky about him. His semblance was the antithesis of lucking out, but there was no need to tell anyone. Keep his secrets, should he ever need to face them in battle. Only a fool would reveal everything.
Winter Schnee was an Atlesian specialist. She was unlikely to fall for the gimmick that allowed him to trounce her younger sister. He would need every little advantage to come out on top of that fight, maybe even reveal Hrunting and Vigilance's true form.
He had to.
He still hated losing.
And his brain still considered the aversion irrational.
"Lucky enough to be partnered with my sister as well?" Winter said, arching an eyebrow. "Atlesians flaunt their prowess, their accomplishments, their status. Even their associates. But not you."
Nex shrugged. Pointless politicking. "Nope. Don't see the point. Weiss is your sister?"
Winter nodded, her lips curling into a secretive smile. But she probably had nothing to hide on that front. "Indeed. This merits a formal introduction. My name is Winter Schnee. A pleasure."
Nex smiled at the stiff, rehearsed greeting. "And that's where she gets it from. I'm Nex. Nexus Shade, but you can call me Nex like everybody else. It's nice to meet you."
Nex poured the bottle into her flute—the only one of its kind.
His scroll beeped, the golden numbers nearing midnight.
Most of the regulars already left, with some of them collapsed on the couches. They would wake up after a few minutes of nursing their addled, wilting brains. Aura worked wonders for expelling alcohol from a huntsman's system, Mekel always said.
Debatable, considering that the ice queen's ears were already scarlet.
No surprise there.
Nex shrugged, busying himself with cleaning the bar. He had to stay here until morning. Man the club alone and make sure no one got the bright idea of robbing it. They had a tacit agreement that if Mekel went on one of his vacations, then Nexus Shade would take care of the Huntsman's Respite.
There was no way he would be able to open shop with the upcoming festival, so he would put up an on-vacation sign as soon as dawn came. It would entail missing at least a week's worth of business. But he could recoup the missed lien with his cut from Roman, taking the equivalent amount of liquor from the bar's stock. If he did not, then someone was bound to wonder where the money came from.
It was probably unorthodox and shifty.
But from the perspective of net loss and gain, it would be as if the Huntsman's Respite did not close at all. Mekel was familiar with his methods. Even tried to induct him into a gang once. That turned out to be quite the night.
"Do you want a drink?" Winter said, smiling as she shot him a look. "It gets lonely savouring fine wine by myself."
Says the red-faced huntress, holding a half-empty flute with one hand.
"Shouldn't I be the one saying that?" Nex said, rolling his eyes. "I don't think I'm allowed to drink the wine of our guests."
But still, said guest was the only one left in the club.
Should he agree?
On one hand, people did say fine wine was quite the experience. Mekel said it was acquired taste, and an 8-lien wine in the supermarket was different from your 2000-lien Mistralian Nightshade. On the other hand, this woman was his partner's older sister.
Perhaps he should consult Weiss first before saying yes.
Two clouds of smoke poofed into existence, plopping down on his shoulders.
The Weiss-angel on his right shook her cute little head, whispering that it was inappropriate, especially since he was a minor. The devil-Nex on his left grinned, hollering that life was an intellectual experience, and people should take the chance to examine it from every perspective. The aviators over his tiny, golden eyes and his twitching wolf ears were especially convincing. It was hardly a difficult choice to make.
"Well, are you sure?" Nex said, offering her a smile. "I'm biologically sixteen. Aren't you the strict military type or something?"
Winter scoffed. "If I was unsure, I wouldn't have offered. Besides, you're training to be a professional huntsman, correct?"
"Yep. I've always wanted to be a huntsman," Nex said, rubbing the sleeve of his coat. "You could say that I was inspired by a certain someone."
That someone being Amariss. Bless her soul. She was a strong huntress and an even stronger mom. His biological father missed out on something when he ran away from her life. But he would not have turned out the way he did if the man grew a pair and stayed. Maybe he did have to thank the man if he ever showed up. Thank him with a knee to the balls, at least.
"Then if you're old enough to kill Grimm and shoot people with lasers," Winter said. "You're old enough to drink. Find a glass and let's get started."
Most of the Friday night passed away in a blur.
There were flashes of putting down the titanium walls of the establishment, replacing the neon lights with fluorescent ones and turning on the heater.
But there were certainly those questions. Crystal clear, even. Oh, his partner's older sister had a lot of those. Innocent questions about his hometown, up to the personal ones like his sword and to the downright bizarre ones like the girls at school.
One bottle of wine turned into two, and two bottles of wine turned into a dozen mugs of beer. Aura was amazing, and there was no longer question as to why civilians refrained from drinking with huntsmen. Even going as far as to have separate clubs in the jungle of Atlas.
"You mentioned that you were inspired by someone," Winter said. "To be a huntsman. Who did?"
Nex hung his head, that last gulp of alcohol still burning his throat. "My mom. Amariss Shade. She's a huntress from Beacon."
"She seems familiar," Winter said, chugging down another mug of draft. "Did she ever mention someone named Willow?"
"The tree? I don't think so," Nex said, prodding his mug. The cold poked his finger. "She was more into stories about birds and seasons and magic."
Winter placed her mug on the counter. "Willow's my mom. She was a huntress back in the day."
"I'm sorry," Nex said, a certain someone's words coming to mind. Someone named White? Or something. "I shouldn't have asked."
"What? No, she's not dead," Winter said, arching an eyebrow. "She's very much alive. It's just... complicated."
The Schnee made everything complicated. He should have been ashamed, but it was better he did not have any family at all. It was less complicated and troublesome that way.
Maybe he was better off without it.
"What do you think of Weiss?" Winter said. "Is she performing well? Is she having trouble? Is she eating enough?"
He smiled, cradling his head with one hand. The other clutched a mug handle. It was the anchor that bound him to the waking world.
"My—Weiss is great. She's the best partner ever," Nex said, the pink, fluffy clouds smothering his brain. Oh, wow. Cotton candy. And neopolitan ice cream. "She's so responsible, it feels like she can do everything by herself. Why do you ask?"
"Can't a big sister show concern for her adorable little sister?" Winter said, cherry-faced but still looking strong. She tipped back another mug, amber trailing down her chin. "I have those cute little pictures of her in my scroll. If you want to see, you'll have to take another shot."
Nex rolled his eyes at her generous offer, his brain still reeling from that last shot straight to his temple. "Nope. Weiss would be mad if I did. I don't want her to be mad. I want her to be happy."
A sane man would avoid an eruption from Mt. Weiss, and not end up in the ceiling like that Hard-on Silverstain guy. He was too young to be a memorial in the cemetery.
"You really do?" Winter said, beaming as she hiccupped. "Cross your heart, hope to die?"
Nex nodded. "Yep. If she's happy, then I'm happy."
Nothing but the truth. If his partner happened to be in a good mood, then she turned her attention to the professor. Not on his poor legs. He had aura. But still. It was the principle of the matter.
"It's just..." Winter said, pursing her lips. "She's been having a difficult time lately. Between your project and her familial obligations, she has her hands full."
Nex sighed, slouching as he squeezed the glass handle. "I'm a burden to her, aren't I?"
"No, don't think that," Winter said, scowling as she placed her mug on the glass. "You shouldn't think that. No one should."
Nex sniffled, salt stinging his eyes. It was something only an awesome big sister could say. "Th—thanks. I like you a lot, Winter."
Winter snatched her mug, lifting it to her lips. "But not as much as Weiss."
"Of course not. Sorry, not sorry," Nex said, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "But she's my partner."
Winter smiled. "You're alright. You're an alright kid, Nex."
Nex took out his waiver, placing it on a patch of dry glass. It was probably three in the morning. Rapier wasps buzzed in his brain, clashing against the static of his semblance.
Whoever suggested getting drunk was a good idea could go crawl into a bush and die. And bury themselves while they were at it. Spare him the effort of digging out a shovel.
"This is my form for the festival," Nex said, a hiccup bursting from his throat. "I need someone to sign it."
Winter looked at the sheet of paper with bloodshot eyes. "I can't sign it. If something happened to you on the trip, it would come back to me. I'm sorry."
Oh well, oh well.
He needed something to sweeten the deal a little.
Bribery worked on people, right?
It should work on Winter as well.
To that end, he pushed his scroll into Winter's hands. A 3D model of their project rotated on the screen, along with a document containing design notes that he never did show Weiss. If he did, she might have passed out.
Hard light armaments. All-purpose AI reworked with next-generation algorithms. A system overhaul for the Atlesian mechs, closing the backdoors someone had purposely installed. Those backdoors could have been easy pathways for a virus. Say, if someone wanted to take over the mechs using a bug piggybacking off a scroll? Or maybe even the CCT?
Of course, his code was not written from scratch. It was cut, scrambled, and reordered in such a way that it was near-impossible for anyone to know it was based on faulty Atlesian programming.
He had his semblance to thank for that.
Impulsively, he spent hours sitting in front of his scroll, dumping all of his aura into his semblance. He learned how to code on the level of a manic, sleep-deprived basement dweller over the course of a single afternoon. Then he refurbished the code over the last few weeks, along with the AI for their own project.
What could he possibly say? It killed boredom. But now, the lost sleep was turning out to be so fucking worth it.
And then, there was the umbrella on the strawberry sunrise. The one thing an intelligent woman like Winter Schnee could not possibly refuse.
"All of this can be mailed with utmost confidentiality to General Ironwood," Nex said, waving his hands as he pitched a life-changing product to his captive audience. "The military can be discreet about it."
They totally could, right?
Not his problem though.
Nex lifted his chin, topping it off with a brilliant smile. "For the safety and security of the Kingdom of Atlas, you need to sign my waiver. There's no other way."
Winter twitched, a pen already in her palm.
Nex smirked. Got her.
Never let it be said that Nexus Shade was a good loser.
He hated losing.
Why does your waiver have my sister's signature?" Weiss said.
His partner took one glance at his duly signed form and noticed the one detail he could not have possibly concealed. She wanted to see if he managed to find someone to sign it, and it was impossible to convince her without handing it over. Right now, she was leaning across the teacher's table, probably comparing the signatures on both of their forms.
Dust Practical lectures were already finished, turning it into a period where students were free to work on their final projects.
Nex shrugged, glancing around the empty lab. "Winter and I had a talk. We talked a lot, actually."
Most of their schoolmates were probably finished with their stuff. The only reason why they were still in the lab was to put the finishing touches on their own.
Their dog sat on their shared desk, titanium face plate shimmering under the overhead lights. Its wheeled legs had thrusters fast enough to carry it at over three hundred kilometres per hour, something the average car on the highway would burn a lot of gas to achieve. Its engines were calibrated by Weiss herself, her affinity for dust turning out to be invaluable, while he worked on the engineering and the weapon systems, putting gimmicks into the thing.
The crowd would be entertained.
At least, hopefully.
"You talked? You just talked and you managed to convince Winter to sign your form?" Weiss said as she spun, her eyes narrowing. "When did you talk? What did you talk about?"
Huh.
There were a lot more things in common between Weiss and Winter than just their genes. The rapid-fire questioning was oddly familiar. His memories of that night dissolved into a fragmented haze of alcohol and talking. But there were still those pretty interesting bits. Where interesting bits equated to flashes of squishy, little emotions and not much else.
Curse his brain.
"We talked last Friday over a couple of drinks," Nex said, smiling. "She's great. You have an amazing big sister."
Weiss smirked and lifted her chin, looking as if she was the one being praised. "That doesn't tell me what the two of you talked about, but I'll be sure to relay your compliments to my sister."
One, two, three.
His partner's head turned a one-eighty, her eyes hurling daggers at him.
It finally sunk in. As expected.
"You did what?" Weiss shrieked in her high soprano. "You're not supposed to be drinking. You're only sixteen, a minor. And my sister is an Atlesian specialist, the pride of the military. What would General Ironwood think if he found out? No, not if. When."
"I'm sure the good general won't mind," Nex said, tightening a loose screw on one of the dog's front legs. "Besides, it was your sister who offered. Said something about me being old enough to drink."
It was quite a surprise as well.
Who knew the stuffy ice queen had a rebellious side?
Old enough to drink—yeah, right. Phantom pains of the legendary hangover lingered in his brain. One of his ears still kept hearing things wrong, and his aura took a massive dump in the toilet. He slept through the Saturday after, buried in empty shot glasses and silk blankets.
Thus, the Huntsman's Respite turned into a bachelor's pad for the entire weekend.
Winter happily ordered him around, the woman blessed with an even worse hangover than he was. But at least he never lost a single card of lien. The ice queen paid for food delivery and the drinks out of her deep pockets. She left him a tip big enough to cover a week's worth of his salary, and there was even a little extra to buy some dust and ammunition.
"Well, if Winter says that it's okay..." Weiss said, fidgeting with the hem of her plaid skirt. "But nothing... untoward happened, right?"
Nex smiled, wiping the dust from his hands with a towel. "If by untoward, you mean underhanded political dealings that every person in a position of power has to do at some point in their career either for the sake of the kingdom or to advance their own interests, then no. Nothing untoward happened..."
Nope. Not even close.
By complete coincidence, General Ironwood received a very interesting package, hand-carried by Winter herself. The envelope contained the fruits of his labour, along with a cheeky letter introducing him and his association with Winter.
It explained exactly what the reworked code inside the hard drive was for, the waiting disaster that it averted and that there was a traitor in their ranks.
The very idea apparently spurred the big man's most trusted scientists into a quiet frenzy.
Now the general was looking for him, trying to book an appointment in his busy schedule. That busy schedule consisted mostly of long sleep and even longer training, but the good general did not need to know that.
As far as James Ironwood was concerned, Nexus Shade was simply too preoccupied with the festival to receive the big man's personal thanks and discuss whatever he wanted over coffee.
Weiss slammed a paint canister into their desk. "Nexus Shade. What did you do to—what did you do with my sister? If you so much as laid a finger on her, without her permission—but if she acquiesced, encouraged it, then... then... I have to..."
Ugh. What did he do this time?
Sometimes, the woman known as Weiss Schnee reacted to the strangest of things. But still, he could accept that. Accept a lot of stuff, really.
Nex shrugged, quirking an eyebrow. "What?"
Weiss heaved a sigh, her bright voice shrinking into the back of her throat. "Just answer me honestly, Nexus Shade. Are you in a relationship with Winter Schnee?"
His brain crunched to a halt.
Weiss tapped her flats on the tiles, probably waiting for an answer. Her layered, side-swept fringe—a recent addition to her regal face, framed her eyes too well. There was no telling what smouldered within those icy depths.
"Nope. Of course not," Nex said, warmth swirling in his chest. Thank his brain for the reboot. "I'm sure Winter's great and all, but I'm not really interested in her in that way."
Besides, women a little closer to his age were infinitely more appealing, and the idea of casual flings never really came to mind.
If he was going to date someone, it was going to be with purpose.
If he was going to commit to a relationship, and put the effort into a woman, then he was going to do it all the way.
Nexus Shade would most certainly not be anything his father.
Nope.
The thought was hanged, quartered, and thrown to the wolves before it could take root in his brain. He would stay by her side, and see her through life until they were both old and grey together.
Weiss breathed a sigh, smiling as she contemplated her navel. "That's good. No, that's great. Let's continue doing what we're doing and forget about it, okay?"
The bell rang by the time they were done.
His partner marvelled at their dog, painted with dirty white and polished with dry wax. Why the military never made personalized robotic dogs for the public was debatable.
Dogs proved to be a reliable source of morale and security. The robotic part just meant the dogs could be armed to the teeth and appear cute at the same time. But then again, conspiracy theorists would point out the government was spying on them with cute robot dogs.
Screw it then.
There was absolutely no winning in Atlas.
"It's so cute," Weiss said, her hands pressed over the slope of her chest. "Ahem, I mean, it looks practical and efficient. A marvel of Atlesian technology made only possible by its proud representatives."
Nex nodded to show he understood, even though his brain was already churning out more reasons why a robot dog as a pet would not be taken well by the citizens of Atlas. But voicing them out would serve no purpose. It was only for a presentation that his partner wanted to win. If he was alone, then he would have made something way simpler. Maybe the fancy snow globe Weiss made would have sufficed.
"So, Nex..." Weiss said. "You're not doing anything right now, are you?"
Nex quirked an eyebrow, staring at their dog. Maybe if he made the neck a little sleeker, it would have been possible to attach some wings and make it fly. "Nope. Not really. I'm just going to train."
Nope. It would not have worked. The central mass seemed too cumbersome and prone to drag force. A flying dog would need a redesign. At that point, it would not even resemble a dog anymore.
Maybe a robotic parrot could be an adequate substitute?
"Well, I was thinking," Weiss said, sounding like she was ready to defend a thesis. "Why don't we go grab dinner? Everyone needs to eat food and we're both people, right?"
Nex nodded. Faultless logic. As expected from his partner.
But still. There was that even better idea. A robot dog that used gravity dust to fly. The thrusters on the thing only needed some modifications, and probably an entire cache of gravity and lightning dust.
But how exactly would the dog balance itself mid-air?
It was a problem for another thinking session, at least.
"Yeah, sure," Nex replied. "Should we go right now?"
His hands twitched. A flying dog raining confetti over an audience could garner a lot of attention. It could also send their chances of winning straight into Grimm territory.
"Yes. Let's," Weiss said, strolling towards the door. "I'm famished."
Well, the semester was nearing its end. Atlas Primary would be sending out its latest batch of graduates into the wild, wild world.
But still, while the principal preached anything was possible for fresh graduates, the data told a vastly different story.
An average graduate from one of the combat schools failed to enter the four huntsman academies. Only the top percentage of prep school graduates would be granted entry. The best combat schools on the planet did not have unlimited funds. They only catered to the true one per cent.
It was a sad reality that most of the graduates here would turn into glorified bodyguards for some rich guy in town, or into unprepared soldiers who died somewhere in the fight against the enemy. The safest option was to work for someone like Mekel or Roman, but it was doubtful a fresh graduate would be up for the life.
But things did change.
So who knows?
His partner's hand touched the door handle.
His semblance blared.
A cacophony of white noise.
"Don't open the door," Nex said, snatching his weapon. The one hidden under their desk. "There's something wrong. Just don't open it yet."
Weiss glanced at his weapon, her left hand moving to her waist. She frowned, probably realizing they were still dressed in their school uniforms. Her weapon was probably still in her locker.
Nex only brought Hrunting and Vigilance because he planned to train afterwards. He had been simply too lazy to drop by the lockers and instead brought his weapon into the lab, breaking about twenty-seven school rules in the process. Maybe even more. Thank the gods for small blessings.
"What's wrong?" Weiss said, removing her hand from the handle. "Did you hear something?"
She stared through the glass pane. The hallway stretched out, lockers and all. But still, something strange was happening here. Strange enough to tip off his brain and his semblance.
The white-washed walls were bereft of anyone. Atlas Primary maintained a strict schedule. Its students were disciplined enough to go home when the bell rang. But there were at least a few faces who stayed to gossip. The very same ones who cursed whenever he stormed out of the lab. But now, those exact faces were missing.
Gone.
"My semblance is pareidolic precognitive analysis," Nex said, examining the one-way glass and the hallway beyond it. No one could possibly see them from the outside. "If you open that door, a bomb is going to explode."
"You can see the future?" Weiss said, loping away from the double doors. "I'm a little jealous."
Nex shook his head, padding towards the door. Weapon in hand. "Not exactly. The future is only ever certain if you're living wrong. Case in point—not doing anything to change your fate."
It was a thought he had in the past.
If he poured enough aura into his semblance, then it was possible to see and learn more. How much more convenient would life be if he could predict every little instance?
The idea was scrapped after he was almost flattened by a truck. Using his semblance in that way was foolish. It was the equivalent of closing his eyes to what was in front of him. Hyper-fixating on what could be and what could not be. The future was fluid. Malleable. As long as one did not stand still against fate's chaotic currents.
The people who lived life standing still, fixated on one outcome, were the truly dead ones. They were already run over by the truck called Circumstance.
Hrunting sang with the hymn of steel against steel. Vigilance expanded into a heater shield, one big enough to cover his chest. His partner stood a few feet behind him. He strolled towards the door. Her heartbeat spiked, stabbing his extra pair of ears.
"Stay behind me," Nex said, spreading his legs. "Use your glyphs to open the door."
He gripped his shield, bracing for the bomb.
White glyphs tinkled.
It opened with a bang.