Wednesday, the 20th of May, 79AGW.

Goodwitch’s Office, Beacon.

Lima slumped into the room, tired but at the very least freshly showered. The fact that it had rained during the last practical had meant that just about everyone in their class had been a mess of water, mud and grass. On the other hand, he did have the privilege of seeing Weiss and Pyrrha wresting in the mud over the flag—so maybe it wasn’t such a terrible day in the end.

He waved his hand in something approaching a greeting to Goodwitch, who was working diligently at the stack of forms. The continually incoming forms had been tapering off every day, and seeing as it hadn’t gotten any bigger since yesterday, this must have been the last of it.

Lima dropped down into his usual spot, only to blink in surprise.

“Hey, where’s mine gone?” Lima squawked, tipping the desk up onto two legs in an attempt to check underneath it. “Stealing? Not setting a very good example Bad—”

“If you even think about calling me ‘Badwitch’, I’m going to throw you out of the window, Mr Morta,” Goodwitch warned, “Good example or otherwise.”

Lima laughed nervously at the threat.

“Moving past things that I never had any intention of saying out loud,” Lima cleared his throat, “Where’s my pile?”

“Your period of detention has been successfully completed,” Goodwitch said simply, moving a form over into the completed pile. “Yesterday was your last day.”

Lima opened his mouth and then closed it, entirely unsure how to feel about that. On the one hand, it had been a pretty frustrating task, finding and noting down all of the issues, hunting down the idiots who’d missed something and getting them to complete the forms.

“There will no doubt be some stragglers who come to me in the weeks following the break,” Goodwitch said dryly, “There’s always one or two of them that had stuffed the form in their locker or in the back of a book somewhere before forgetting about it.”

Lima had an existential moment of dread where he wasn’t sure if he’d even handed his own form in and pushed himself up to his feet.

“Uh,” Lima said, “Totally unrelated to what you just said, but did I hand mine in?”

Goodwitch snorted at the question before sitting back in her chair as Lima moved back to the front of the class.

“Yes, on the second day—you don’t remember?” Goodwitch said, amused.

“Of course I do,” Lima lied, “But if I didn’t—well, a memory of a single sheet of paper is hard to find in a forest riddled with the stuff, right?”

Goodwitch raised an eyebrow.

“If you hadn’t just lied to my face,” Goodwitch said dryly. “I’d have said that was almost poetic.”

“Poetic? I know plenty of poems!” Lima said brightly before clearing his throat. “There once was a woman from Kuchinashi, who liked to show off her—”

“Lima,” Goodwitch said in warning, eyeing him. “Get out of here before I start handing out more detentions.”

Lima fled.

#

Wednesday, the 27th of May, 79AGW.

Hallway, Beacon.

“What are you doing for the break?” Claire asked as they headed towards the locker room.

“I’m taking the train back to Mistral,” Lima said, stretching his hands above his head. “Sage and Midori want to spend some time with me while we have the chance.”

“They aren’t coming here for the Vytal Festival?” Claire asked, sending him a glance.

“Nah,” Lima admitted, “Sage has a class to teach, and Midori has her job—if I don’t go see them now, I’ll have to wait until the end of the year break. What about you? Your fancy pants sister in town? Going to beat her up in front of your parents to show off your new huntress skills?”

Claire covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile.

“You’re not supposed to joke about that,” Claire said, pulling her eyebrows together in an attempt to be stern.

“Take Teak with you for backup,” Lima suggested, striking out twice at chest level. “If you start losing, he can take your mom down first.”

Claire cracked, failing to hide her amusement.

“You’re such an idiot.” Claire laughed. “I’m telling him you said that.”

The locker room was thankfully empty when they arrived, and Lima quickly opened his up and retrieved his gear. He slipped the hook-shot gauntlet onto his wrist and clipped his quiver box to his hip. He took the compacted bow and stuffed it into the loop on his belt before slipping the hooded cloak over his shoulders. He did a final check to make sure the quiver was secure before turning back to Claire.

Claire was in the process of dragging her jumper up over her head and sending her hair everywhere in the process. She strapped the harness-slash-corset for her weapons around her torso, yanking twice on it in an attempt to readjust it properly. The two sheaths on the backside of the harness sat against her lower back, and he watched as she made sure both could be unsheathed smoothly before moving on.

“What made you choose twin short swords?” Lima asked curiously. “Read too many of those Atlas comics as a kid?”

“Shut up,” Claire snickered. “It used to be just the one, but my firepower at range kind of sucked—everyone else at Signal had something better.”

Lima tried to remember who’d even been at Signal with her.

“Yang was there, wasn’t she? Ruby too?” Lima said, “I suppose Ruby’s sniper rifle is stronger than a single revolver, sure, but what about Yang? Her range sucks.”

“Compared to a sniper rifle, sure,” Claire said, patting herself down to make sure everything was where it should be. “But Yang had twice the output, so I followed her example.”

“Sure,” Lima agreed.

Claire bent down and pulled her helmet from the bottom of her locker, wrangling it onto her head before standing back up. It was clearly modelled after some kind of knight, with one of those pull-down visors that were bolted on. Instead of the metal cage that was standard for that kind of helmet, the pull-down was instead made from some kind of opaque glass.

“Alright,” Claire declared, hands on her hips. “I’m ready—let’s go before someone shuts us down before we’ve even made it outside.”

Lima followed her out of the door and onto the grounds, content to let her lead the way. This was Claire’s live-action test for the night-vision helmet in an environment where it would actually matter. They’d already agreed on the location—Forever Fall—and the duration of the trip—one hour.

“Why did you choose a bow?” Claire said, eyeing him through the still open visor. “That’s taking the whole ‘hunt’ part of ‘Huntsman’ thing a little bit too literally, don’t you think?”

Lima reached up and scratched his cheek.

“They say living a good life is the best revenge,” Lima said, wondering. “But, there’s no clause that says I can’t do that and hunt the Grimm down like the mindless animals they are.”

“I think that saying literally means to avoid revenge by living a fulfilling life,” Claire said, lowering her voice. “I can’t blame you, though—I’m not sure what I would do….”

Claire trailed off, not sure if she could make mention of what he’d lost. Lima sent her a reassuring smile; they’d had more than enough personal conversations by now to allow her access to those kinds of topics.

“If your family got killed by Grimm?” Lima vocalised, pushing away the memory that rose in response. “Anger is a pretty good motivator, Claire—I imagine you’d find some way to channel it.”

Lima knew the feeling of being directionless all too well, back when his fear had still outweighed his anger. Too scared to do anything except run away from the things that haunted his dreams.

“Sorry,” Claire said, visibly relieved that she hadn’t overstepped.

“Don’t be,” Lima said, thinking for a moment. “I always find myself thinking about how I ended up there, you know?”

“You’re from Argus, aren’t you?” Clair said, glancing over.

“Not really—I only tell people that because I’ve spent most of my life in Argus, but I’m not actually from there, nor am I from Mistral,” Lima admitted, “I’m from Kuchinashi.”

Claire frowned, and Lima felt his lip twitch—the oversized helmet rested pretty snugly around her head, but the sight was a bit strange.

“I don’t even know where that is,” Claire admitted.

“Anima, south of Mistral,” Lima said, “It’s built up in the mountains—honestly, it’s not a very nice place.”

“What do you mean?” Claire asked as they passed the tree line. “Is it a poor area or something?”

“No, there’s plenty of money in Kuchinashi,” Lima said, shaking his head. “I mean, the whole place is rotten—I only lived there until I was six, but that was more than long enough to see a whole lot of things that I shouldn’t have.”

Claire’s eyebrows had pulled together as she considered it.

“Sorry, I don’t really get it,” Claire said, looking hesitant. “Things like what?”

Lima flapped his hand around a bit, picking from the dozen situations he could recall.

“One time, I saw a working girl knife a client and leave him to bleed out in an alleyway,” Lima admitted, “Another time, I remember my mum carrying me up into the crawl space to hide from the debt collectors that broke down our door.”

Claire didn’t say anything to that.

“Lots of bad people there,” Lima said. “Sorry, didn’t mean to drop that on you.”

“No,” Claire said quickly, “I just—I guess I didn’t really think that places like that existed, that they could exist.”

Ah.

“The whole city is naturally protected by the mountains, so the Grimm are forced to come up the trails,” Lima explained, “There’s no real way for them to swarm anything; they get gunned down by the defences long before they get near the city.”

“Flying Grimm?” Claire asked.

“Nevermore mostly, but you can see them coming from a long way away,” Lima said, “Plenty of defences in the city, and thousands of hunters.”

They lowered their voices as they were fully absorbed into Forever Fall.

“You said your family was killed when you were six,” Claire said, “Were you still in Kuchinashi when it happened?”

“No, if we’d stayed there, it wouldn’t have happened,” Lima said, focusing on the trees around them. “Dad vanished, and since nobody could find him, his debt fell to my mum—she was a general labourer and was trained in construction, so when she got scouted for a new city-building project, she took it.”

“Oh,” Claire said quietly. “With your dad gone, you went with her?”

“Yeah,” Lima laughed quietly. “Remember that talk we had with Teak and Lux about that old Vale expansion?”

“I remember,” Claire murmured.

“It’s not like I was really old enough to know this for certain, but I have a sneaking suspicion they didn’t follow the guidelines,” Lima said ironically, “We left Kuchinashi with a bunch of other workers and collected a dozen more from Kuroyuri on the way. Most of us stayed in a small camp onsite, and originally there were a handful of Hunters with us, but they were only there for about a month before their contracts were up.”

Claire slowed to a stop and turned to face him, looking concerned.

“I’ve never heard of any of this,” Claire said, “What was the city going to be called?”

“Oniyuri,” Lima said, still searching the trees. “We were fine for—I don’t know actually, maybe four months? Most days kind of blur into each other. There were other kids there, a similar situation to me; I remember messing around with them.”

“What happened?” Claire said quietly.

Lima shook his head to refocus himself.

“Same thing that always happens,” Lima said, echoes of screams sending a chill up his neck. “Things got bad, the Grimm attacked, and everybody died—everybody except me.”

He clenched his hand into a fist for a moment before the shadows in the forest shivered as something moved ahead of them. All of the old memories fell away, driven back by a comfortable and familiar hate.

“Beowulf, up ahead,” Lima said, smiling.

The Beowulf spotted them, scrabbling for purchase as it attempted to change direction on the carpet of red leaves. Claire spun to face it, swords sliding out of their sheaths—then she vanished, leaves scattering as she circled around in a sprint. The Beowulf continued on its path towards Lima, who remained where he was, hands at his side. It crashed down in two pieces as Claire blindsided it and skidded to a stop.

“I didn’t even notice it,” Claire said, breathing faster than normal. “At least the goggles work; after I knew it was there, I could see it clear as day.”

“Sorry If I distracted you,” Lima said.

Claire shook her head, attempting to relax, but her weapons remained in her hands.

“Can I ask their names?” Claire asked hesitantly.

For a moment, Lima wasn’t sure what she was talking about.

“My parents?” Lima said, blinking. “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that before—Mauve and Danube.”

Lima clapped his hands together, causing Claire to jump about a foot into the air.

“So far, this date sucks, Claire,” Lima chastised, giving her a stern look. “You tried to make me cry and then killed the only Grimm that showed up—I’m demoting you back to side chick; use this space between us to reflect on what you’ve done to me.”

“Oh my god,” Claire huffed, offended. “I didn’t try to make you cry.”

#

Saturday, the 6th of June, 79AGW.

Grounds, Beacon.

“Teak, I’ve seen rotisserie chickens spin faster than this,” Lima said, “What have you got to say for yourself?”

“Stop messing with it,” Teak said, pushing his hand away from the slowly rotating shield. “I’m conserving energy; there’s no point in making it spin at full speed if we’re not ready yet.”

“I’m totally ready,” Lima said, “Tell me what you want me to do again, though, so I know that you know?”

“Lima—look, depending on where the impact is, it’s going to take different amounts of charge to deflect,” Teak explained, “If the attack comes from directly in front, it will hit the shield, and the rotation should move it to the side, we can call that the neutral cost.”

“Front attack is our base, got it,” Lima said, nodding.

“Right, and since the rotation is to the right, any attack on the left-hand side from a forward direction will take less energy to deflect,” Teak said, miming something glancing off at an angle. “See?”

“Yeah, the rotation does the work, so less of the impact hits the shields reserves,” Lima nodded, “That means that any attack on the opposite side is the most costly?”

“Exactly,” Teak said, ears twitching in his hair. “There is a critical spot on that side that may tank half of the shields reserves if it hits at the perfect angle, but I think it’s pretty unlikely.”

“Alright, I’m following,” Lima said, “So my job is to punch it until it explodes?”

“No!” Teak squeaked. “Absolutely not—we are just testing how much energy a hit from each side will cost, so I can better align it against attacks!”

“That’s what I said,” Lima complained, “Alright, let’s do it then, get inside your invention galaxy brain.”

“Don’t call me that,” Teak complained, remotely deactivating the shield and then stepping in behind it. “I’ve tested it against sustained fire, and it’s rated to withstand quite a bit of pressure, so hit it as hard as you are comfortable with.”

“Do you mean hit it with my semblance or without it?” Lima asked for clarification. “One of those is much, much stronger than the other.”

“Um,” Teak said, hesitating. “Let’s start without the semblance. Okay, the rotation is reaching maximum, now.”

“Center of the shield first,” Lima reiterated.

Lima jaunted forward to get within range and struck the shield with the full force of his weight behind it. The strike landed with an audible crack as his aura impacted the hard light energy field. The rotation dragged the hit off to one side, and through his semblance, he actually felt the wasted force. Not the best hit he’d ever landed, but it wasn’t a bad one either.

“Okay—I could actually feel that pull me off-centre,” Lima said, cracking his index knuckle. “How much did it cost?”

“Four per cent of the reserves,” Teak said, fiddling with his scroll.

“Is that good?” Lima wondered. “I feel like there should have been a couple more zeros in that percentage.”

“It’s about twice as much as I managed,” Teak admitted, “The base design is for stopping Grimm, but they usually layer them over one another—I think four percent is pretty good for a single hit.”

“Are you going to layer them?” Lima asked, curious.

“No, I’m still trying to make this one more portable; adding more layers would make that basically impossible.” Teak said, shaking his head. “Ready to go again?”

“I was born to punch things,” Lima declared before pausing. “Mostly Grimm, but other things on occasion.”