HOME | DD

Description
“Ma-a-an! Wow, they did some serious renovations in this place!” a certain orange-haired hyena faunus exclaimed as he looked about the rather large hall.

Saturday meant free time for Team MOON, and as per usual Saturday also meant exploring the kingdom of Vale to see what sights could be seen. Each week the four members would take turns selecting what they would do that day, whether it'd be roaming the streets looking for new and exciting things or choosing certain locations to check out. Oran's turn this week had him choosing the latter, and the rest of Team MOON were sure he was going to take them all to an amusement park of some sort. Not that Oreonna and Maybelle would have minded going to such a place, of course.

What they didn't expect, especially Nichol who was always insistent on telling her teammates that an outing picked by Oran was a wasted one, was for Oran to take them to a rather large museum in downtown Vale.

The museum was gorgeous; white painted walls and a finished, glossy stone floor made way for an already fantastic display of foreign and exotic flowers from all over the world. At the end of a long, blue and gold carpet was a reception desk with a marble desk and no one currently stationed there. This odd lack of presence from the staff urged Oreonna to finally speak up.

“Hey, Oran, this is cool and everything, but what's the catch?” Oreonna skeptically asked her friend.

“The catch?” Oran responded innocently, “Oh, dearest Oreonna, perhaps I simply enjoy the finer things in life such as observing the past. Have I ever brought you three to someplace nice-looking and forgotten to mention there was a catch to it?”

“Yep,” both Oreonna and Maybelle spoke at the same time, recalling the time Oran brought the team to a high class restaurant with every intention of dashing and dining. They somehow never got caught, but they're all pretty sure they aren't allowed there anymore.

“Twice,” Nichol actually spoke up to express her own thoughts, remembering the time when her partner thought it was a good idea to bring his friends fishing in a Grimm infested lake. Oran wanted to try to fish up some aquatic Grimm just to impress her and ended up aggravated a Sea Dragon. Nichol still wasn't sure how they managed to survive, only that they did and Nichol was exhausted at that point.

“Okay, okay, so I haven't been 100% honest with you guys during my location suggestions,” Oran begrudgingly admitted, speaking the understatement of the century, “Which is why I've brought you all to this museum to chill out and not panic during our time together!”

“So no catches?” Maybelle inquired, still unsure of what to make of Oran's strange choice.

“Absolutely none, I promise this time,” Oran promised and swore, “In fact, I'll even tell you three why I've brought you here so there's no confusion.”

“Okay, so why are we here?” Oreonna raised an eyebrow.

“I asked the owner of the museum, a good friend of mine, a little earlier if we could come in before opening hours so I could show my friends something,” Oran began.

Already a few red lights were blaring for Team MOON. For starters, how would someone like Oran have a guy like the owner of a museum as a friend. Furthermore why would he let Oran come in early? Friend or not that was just bad for business. But lastly, and probably strangest of all, what in the blue hell was Oran so insistent on showing his team that he came to a museum, a place he usually found boring and uneventful, before opening hours to show it?

“Now I don’t want to spoil the surprise, so everyone just follow me.”

Unsure of what to make of Oran’s plan, both Oreonna and Maybelle nonetheless agreed this time Oran was telling the truth. Besides, he was their friend and he deserved a chance to redeem himself for all of his past suggestions. They went along with him, Nichol not too far behind as she too was interested in what Oran had to show his team.

Passing by all the ancient artifacts and wonders of the past, the team went deeper and deeper into the practically abandoned museum. They passed by armors worn by legendary heroes long since gone and sculptures crafted in their honor. They even saw a skeleton of a creature that lived on Remnant a billion years ago. But despite all that, they pressed on.

“Uh, it’s not the lizard skeleton over there?” Oreonna inquired, confused as something like that would usually be the only thing Oran was interested in when visiting a museum.

“Nope,” Oran shook his head, a light, jovial chuckle coming from him afterwards, “Though that IS pretty cool! No, what I want to show you guys is in the weapons section.”

“Oran, wait,” Maybelle stopped, the rest of her team following in accordance “Since when have you been interested in weapons?”

“Since, like, forever?” Oran’s eyebrow rose up, his arms and by extension his weapons, the Gust Bracers, flexing for a brief moment not long after, “It’s kinda hard to repair these bad boys when you don’t know at least a little bit about weapons and weapon repair, yeah?”

“Well, yeah,” Maybelle shrugged as the team continued their walk to Oran’s desired destination “but what I mean is your hands have been the only weapon you’ve ever concerned yourself with, so, like... y’know.”

“I think I see what you’re trying to say, May,” Oreonna stepped up, taking her friend’s place and finishing her question, “Basically, she’s asking where the whole interest in weapons came from when you’ve only ever looked at your gauntlets, let alone weapons from a previous era.”

“Ah, ah, ah! I getcha!” Oran winked, “Yeah, still no real interest in them, but this one’s greater than mine!”

“If you brought us out here just to show us something ‘better than yours’,” Nichol spoke up after all this time, “you are never going to choose where we go again. I have better things to do than marvel at some useless piece of junk.”

“Under normal circumstances I’d be insulted you said that, Nicky,” Oran raised his index finger, “But because you have no idea what I’m trying to show you, I’ll forgive you this time.”

Nichol only responded with a grunt, not entirely up to listening to her partner’s overly happy attitude right now. He wasn’t really in any position to give forgiveness either after all of his other suggestions, but at this point Nichol couldn’t care less where the hyena faunus was taking her, her day was already wasted as is.

“Okay, we’re here!” Oran stopped in front of a white pedestal with a glass box on the top, “Yeah, we’re here alright.”

Team MOON all looked around their teammate and saw what was inside the glass box. Resting on a translucent stand was what appeared to be hunting knife much newer and more advanced than the broken, busted-up weapons surrounding it. The handle’s guard was a blade that curved into the center of the knife, which was black and circular. The actual knife part of the weapon was longer than the guard, with sharp, curved hooks on the blade used for piercing the tough hides of Grimm. In the center of the weapon was a symbol, a stylized silver X.

“Whoa,” Oreonna observed the knife in its entirety, “This is pretty new! I mean, compared to all the rusty swords and shields in this place. Is this what you wanted to show us?”

“Yep!” Oran nodded, looking back at the weapon, “The reason I was able to come here early with you guys is because I actually donated to the museum! I get some special privilege to come and see this old thing whenever I want.”

“You donated this to the museum?” Maybelle inquired, “Awesome! Glad you’re doing something good with your life, Oran!”

“Hey!” Oran felt slightly offended by his friend’s comment, but understood it was all in jest. He eased not a moment later.

“The craftsmanship is beautiful,” Oreonna observed, “The blades look recently sharpened and the whole knife looks like it was cleaned yesterday. Oran, just where did you get this thing?”

Before Oran could answer, Nichol spoke up.

“He stole it,” Nichol answered for her partner, giving a better response than she was sure the hyena faunus could give. Oreonna and Maybelle looked over and gave her a sour look as if she just committed every terrible sin known to human and faunus-kind. Nichol was unfazed by their glares, more than likely because she gave them the exact expression on an almost daily basis.

“We saw the weapon, let’s go back,” Nichol continued, turning to head back to Beacon, “We’ve wasted enough time here. I need to go and practice for my--”

“It was my dad’s.”

Nichol stopped in her tracks. She turned around to face Oran but didn’t change her expression. But that was fine; the fact Nichol stopped to listen to him was enough for Oran. Oreo and May looked at their orange-haired friend with both confusion and intrigue in their eyes, pressing him to continue what he meant by his words.

“Heh heh! Sorry, didn’t mean to sound so serious there, it’s just that I know it’s the only way you’ll actually listen to me, Nicky,” Oran laughed before going back to his train of thought, “But yeah, this thing was my old man’s. See?”

The others hadn’t noticed it before, but right below the glass case was a metal engraving with a description of the item displayed. The thing the team’s eyes were attracted to were the words “Raging Tempest, owned by Valencio Bellows and donated by Oran Bellows.”

“Raging Tempest?” Maybelle smiled at the name.

“Yeah, my dad liked to sound cool,” Oran giggled, “But the best part about this thing is that it could turn into a boomerang and make this big tornado to blow away foes! It was awesome! Sometimes, when I got stuck in the tree near our home, he’d use this to blow me out of it and then he’d... catch me.”

Oran noticeably slowed down as he was finishing his sentence, recalling all of the good times he spent with his dad. Suddenly, he felt a small hand on his shoulder, an act of one of his teammates trying to comfort him no doubt. He chuckled, slowly turning around to see who it was, knowing it definitely couldn’t have been Maybelle.

“Oreo, if you’re worried about me, I’m perfectly fi--”

He stopped talking as he saw who it was that touched his shoulder, her usually piercing orange eyes now calmer and even apologetic, which was a mood Oran never usually saw his partner in.

“I... I can relate to losing family,” Nichol admitted, finally taking her hand off of Oran, “The knowledge of being alone forever? The pain of never truly getting to know your family? I’m sorry, Oran, I had no idea this weapon was your father’s, so I apologize for whatever I said.”

Not being the reaction Nichol expected from, she was legitimately surprised when Oran actually began to laugh. At first disappointed not a single word of her speech got through his thick skull, she was shocked when her partner suddenly began to hug her, continuing his laughing fit. It wasn’t until a few moments later that he finally calmed down.

“Hahaha! Nichol, that was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” Oran soon let go of Nichol, a warm grin ever present on his face, “But I’m fine, honest. Yeah, I was sad when my dad died, but if there’s anything I learned from him, it’s not to think about the past too often or it’ll start weighing you down. After all, I have you guys, don’t I?”

“Aw, come here!” Oreonna jumped at the chance to hug her teammate. Soon enough Maybelle joined in as well. The hug lasted a bit longer than Oran and Nichol’s mainly due to Oran understanding physical contact was one of Nichol’s least favorite things, and that's saying a lot, but of course the hug did eventually come to a close.

“Thanks you guys,” Oran smiled.

“Hey, uh, don’t mean to change the subject of anything, but what happened to your mom?” Oreonna curiously inquired, earning a curious reaction from Oran, “I mean, it’s just that you always talk about how awesome your dad was and we never hear anything about your mom.”

“Well probably because I never knew her,” Oran shrugged, “My dad says she died when giving birth to me. But from the stuff my dad told me, she was pretty cool too, if not a little clumsy. Brunette hair, beautiful emerald eyes and cute little cat ears on her head.”

“A feline faunus?” Maybelle asked.

“Yep! Kinda lucky I didn’t end up as some kinda freaky half-dog half-cat monster,” Oran chuckled, “But yeah, never actually knew my mom so I don’t have too many feelings towards her. I do kinda wish I got to know her though.”

Nichol especially felt a little hurt that Oran could so easily say that about his family. After everything she had been through for her partner to just disregard his family like that pained her, but she didn’t speak up on the topic. She knew she had a tendency of ‘ruining the mood’ as it were, and she had already come dangerously close to doing so today.

“Anyway, the owner said we could stay as long as we like today, so everyone go and enjoy!” Oran sent his team away to have some fun in the museum.

“Sweet! I want to check out that lizard skeleton again!” Oreonna excitedly rushed back to the previous hall to observe the fossilized skeleton from before, “May, you coming?”

“Yeah, sure!” Maybelle walked over to where Oreonna was waiting for her, “And also maybe later we could see some of those

The only two remaining were Oran and Nichol, both looking over the glass case with the former’s father’s weapon sealed and protected within it. Oran attempted to walk away from the display case, but Nichol stopped him.

“Wait,” Nichol halted her partner in his tracks, “One thing still confuses me.”

“Shoot,” Oran turned around, happy to answer anything his friend had to ask.

“I understand your father meant a lot to you, and I understand you’ve moved on from his passing, but,” Nichol paused for a moment before continuing, “Why donate his weapon to the museum? Why not keep it for yourself as a reminder of him?”

“Ah, that,” Oran smiled, “Well, what end would it solve, huh?”

“What?” the question wasn’t inquiry on Nichol’s part, more akin to confusion spoken in a rather menacing tone.

“Well, think about it,” Oran shrugged, “Why would I keep something owned by someone I looked up to when I could instead let everyone see it and show them just how awesome and cool my dad was?”

Nichol understood perfectly. With a quick nod, she left Oran and went to see something else in the museum as it seemed she was stuck here until her team was ready to leave. However, she stopped and turned to head half way to say something else to her partner.

But no words were spoken. Having said nothing, Nichol continued on her way to the rest of the museum. Oran wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, but after her surprising apology earlier and legitimate concern with his well-being, he probably had an inkling of what she wanted to tell him. Satisfied, he left the Raging Tempest on its pedestal for all to see when the museum finally did open, running over to join most of his team by the powerful-looking lizard skeleton.

XXXXXX

“Midori, it’s true, I am madly in love with you.”

After Team MOON’s somewhat eventful day at the museum, nighttime for them was a time to just sit down and relax. Oran was sitting on his bed playing a some kind of video game involving penguins while Nichol was on her bed trying to read her book while her teammates were being as loud as ever. She pretended to be reading a book she got from Professor Oobleck and studying, when in reality she was trying to finish up a book called The Lost Melody, a book truly precious to her.

Of course this was difficult as Oreonna decided today was the day she would introduce Maybelle to anime. Nichol had no issues with the art form, she always tried to keep an appreciation for the arts, but Oreonna had somehow mathematically selected the cheesiest anime the silver-haired girl had ever listened to.

“Oh Ao-kun! I’m in love with you too!” the characters on Oreonna’s scroll spoke, “But I’m also in love...” there was a suspenseful pause, “...with your cousin Shiro.”

Maybelle gasped at the outcome of the show while Nichol inwardly groaned, unable to block the sound from her mind. Suddenly a poorly translated song began playing, signalling the end of the episode the two female faunus were watching. Nichol tried her best to not let out a relieved sigh, but a small huff escaped her lips. Thankfully it didn’t sound too much like relief per say and the others continued their lives without acknowledging it.

“Oh my goodness, this show is good!” Maybelle’s eyes lit up in excitement, “The suspense, the intrigue, the romantic plot! Oreo, why haven’t you shown me this ‘anime’ thing before?”

“Ah, I, uh, wasn’t sure you’d like it,” Oreonna sheepishly chuckled, looking back at her scroll and the title of the anime. Kōkō: Karā Mai raifu, which literally translated to High School: Color my Life. It was literally the cheesiest anime Oreonna could find and she put it on as a joke before showing her friend something actually good, unable to foresee May actually enjoying the show.

“Hey-o! Level 10!” Oran exclaimed.

Knowing full well she couldn’t argue with her idiot friends, Nichol slammed her head into her book and groaned.

“Alright, well, it’s been fun, May, but I want my scroll back,” Oreonna flipped her scroll around and exited the video website to pull up her homepage: a news website. She knew her teammates weren’t exactly the most in-the-know kind of people so she felt it was her duty to inform them on things happening in their world, especially after the whole fiasco with Maybelle’s friend Violet. She begrudgingly replaced her father’s website as her homepage to the news outlet.

“Okay, some things going on before we go to sleep,” Oreonna did this every Saturday night just to keep her team aware of goings on, “Wow, some guy one the lottery in Mistral! How about that?”

“Cool,” Oran was sort of listening, focused more on his game than anything else.

“Also it seems Violet’s new trade route proposal between Menagerie and a little inhabited island off the coast of Mistral is in the next stage of development!”

“Oh, that’s good,” May smiled, “I’m glad she’s doing okay. We really need to get together again.”

“Agreed. Maybe a lunch with everyone and not just you?” Oran snickered.

“We’ll see, but I’m sure she won’t mind too much,” Maybelle shrugged.

“Okay, and last but certainly not least, a bad one just to even it all out,” Oreonna read the headline of the story and began to read, not fully processing what the article was going on about, “Museum in Vale is--” it finally hit her, “Oh my god.”

The sudden change of atmosphere caused everyone to look up at Oreonna, awaiting for her to explain what she had just read. Oran especially had perked his head up from the game he was playing to listen in on what his friend was about to say.

“Museum in Vale is robbed,” Oreonna continued, “It says this all took place a within the last hour. Nothing was stolen except a...” she paused, collecting her thoughts, “Except a rare boomerang hunter’s knife donated by Oran Bellows.”

Oran’s scroll dropped out of his hand and onto the floor.

“That’s... no, that’s impossible,” Oran shook his head in denial, getting off of his bed and onto his feet, “Oreonna, please tell me this is some kind of sick joke. It’s not super funny.”

Without hesitation, Oreonna passed her scroll to Oran and allowed him to read what she had just read. After a moment of Oran glossing over the text and getting what information he needed, he slowly lifted his head from the scroll and gave it back to the monochrome-haired feline faunus.

“Why the hell would anyone steal my dad’s knife?” Oran questioned no one in particular, a rare anger starting to build up within him, “Out of everything in that place, there HAS to be something more valuable than it, no offense to my dad of course.”

“Oran, I’m sorry, but unless that place had another knife donated by your long-lost twin brother that went by the same name, your dad’s knife was stolen,” Oreonna spoke up, attempting her best to explain the situation to him.

Oran slumped back down on his bed, the weight of this new info perhaps too much for him.

The room was quiet for a minute, but it honestly felt like hours for the team. The air felt heavy for some reason. It would seem Oran’s usually chipper mood was Team MOON’s primary source of moral, and without that the room just felt emptier and difficult to breathe in.

“I just don’t believe it,” Oran shook his head, “Of all the things there, why my dad’s knife?”

“I can’t say I know, Oran,” Maybelle walked over to him, sitting down next to him on his bed and being careful not to crush the scroll still on the floor, “But remember what you said back in the museum?”

“About not thinking on the past?” Oran looked up at his leader, no, his friend.

“Yeah,” May nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder, “And that whole thing about us being your family and whatnot. It’s true! Family can be a lot of things, but from my own experience I know that family isn’t some hunter’s knife. I know it was important to you, but like you said it’s best not to dwell on the past, right?”

Oran thought about May’s words. The others were unsure of how he would react.

“Heh,” Oran cracked a smile, a wave of relief flowing through the other members, “Yeah, you’re totally right, May. That knife, I don’t need it to remember him,” he looked up at his friends as the smile on his face widened, “And you’re right, or I guess I’m right, hahaha! You guys are like family to me.”

Oran wrapped his own arm around May in a sort of half-hug.

“Thanks, you guys,” Oran nodded, but suddenly began to look a little sad again, “Still, I don’t want my dad’s knife

Suddenly, on the floor of their dorm, Oran’s scroll vibrated. Curious, Oran picked it up and saw that he just got a text from someone, an unknown caller as a matter of fact.

“Who is it?” Oreonna asked him.

“I don’t know,” Oran raised an eyebrow, “Might be a virus,” a grin soon appeared on his face, “but hey, I live on the edge of life! And I need a new scroll anyway.”

Oran opened the text from the unknown messenger. After giving it a quick read to make sure it wasn’t just some junk mail, his smile soon faded away. Oreonna immediately took notice of this and was about to ask him what it said, but Oran was quick to tell his friends anyway.

“Meet me outside Vale at these coordinates if you want your knife back. Come alone,” Oran read the message aloud in its entirety save for the confusing coordinates that he knew he had no hope of deciphering, “Uhhhh... Well then, either someone’s trolling me or someone legit has my dad’s knife out there.”

“Does it say who it’s from?” May asked.

“No, May, it doesn’t,” Oran rolled his eyes and shook his head, “What’s weird is that I haven’t given my number out to anyone but you guys. So unless Nichol over there suddenly decided she found pranking someone else funny, I would of course applaud her because she got me good. But in all seriousness, I think this person is for real.”

“It wasn’t me,” Nichol responded not defensively but rather harshly.

“Yeah, highly doubt it was grumperella over there,” Oreonna chuckled, “But if this is the real deal, what are you going to do, Oran?”

Oran thought for a moment on his options. On one hand he could contact the authorities about this, which seemed like the most obvious and safest choice he had. The only downside was he may never know just who the messenger was, which was a question plaguing his mind for a while now. On the other hand, he could ignore the message and go about his merry way enjoying his time with his teammates, but this was probably the most dangerous option as the thief could use his father’s boomerang knife for anything they wanted. A lot of people could get hurt because he chose to do nothing.

On a third, imaginary hand which Oran didn’t have but wanted to think it was his foot somehow, Oran could follow the text’s instructions and seek out the messenger. It could mean threatening his very life, he didn’t know, but he knew if he did this he would get the answers he was seeking. He had made his choice.

“Oreonna,” Oran spoke up.

“Hm?”

“Would your uncle still be awake?”

Oreonna grinned.

XXXXXX

“You’re damn lucky I have such a wonderful niece, kid, or I would say no a thousand times!” Roman Torchwick twirled his cane around his arm, his other hand resting on the red motorbike he definitely didn’t steal.

If there was anyone in the entire kingdom that would be happy enough to give Oreonna anything she wanted it was Roman Torchwick, ex-criminal mastermind (or so he said). While not related to her by blood, certain ties lead Roman to be a sort of godfather for her, though the nickname a younger Oreonna gave him was so loved by the ginger-haired man it just sort of stuck. Now Roman would do anything for his niece, lest his ex-girlfriend and Oreonna’s mother, Neo, did something bad to him.

“Whoa! You’re giving me this?!” Oran sounded surprised by the revelation.

“No, I’m letting you borrow it,” Roman scowled, “And if I find out a scratch is on her, something real bad is gonna happen to--”

Oreonna coughed, alerting Roman.

“...my insurance,” Roman backpedaled probably faster than he ever had in his life, “I was going to say my insurance.”

“Right,” Oreo snickered before looking at her hyena friend all too eager to get on the bike and ride off, “Oran, I put the coordinates in the bike’s GPS already, so don’t worry about getting lost.”

“Got it,” Oran nodded.

“And if you get in a tussle, don’t hesitate to run.”

“Yep.”

“And make sure you don’t--”

“Oreonna, I got this,” Oran laughed at his friend’s fear for his safety, “I won’t do anything too stupid, I promise.”

“...Okay,” Oreonna nodded and backed away, “I just wanted to hear it from you. Just please, don’t die, alright?”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want a dead teammate on our team,” Maybelle attempted to add some humor into this situation, a trick that appeared to work as Oran giggled at her joke. Just before Oran was about to ride off and meet with this mysterious person who stole his father’s knife, Nichol stepped forward and spoke up.

“I’m going too,” she said flatly.

“Nicky, I appreciate it, but the message said that this guy wants me to come alo--”

Nichol pulled out her spoon-shaped blade and held it to Oran’s neck faster than anyone could react. She spoke not a word and simply glared at her teammate, keeping the blade up to his neck until he responded.

“Now usually when a friend threatens to kill another friend, it’s usually a bluff to get what they want,” Oran said, feeling his pulse getting faster as Nichol’s blade was getting closer and closer to slicing off his head, “But because I know for a fact you actually WOULD kill me, hop on.”

Without a word, Nichol lowered her weapon and got on the back of the motorcycle, grabbing some goggles on the side compartment of the bike and putting them over her eyes. Oran soon followed, forgetting the wind in his face would probably blind him while he was driving. With one final wave farewell, the two drove off to go and meet with the messenger.

“Oh, so you let grumps-a-lot over here threaten your friend but not me?” Roman voiced his complaint to his niece after the two were gone around the corner, noticing she and her other friend did nothing to stop the silver-haired girl from holding the equivalent to a knife up to Oran’s throat.

“Yep,” Oreonna simply responded.

“And how come?” Roman was becoming increasingly aggravated by the faunus girl.

“Because I know Nichol wouldn’t have killed Oran,” Oreonna explained, “She likes him too much, even if she’s too prideful to admit it. After spending a lot of time with her, you start to notice little quirks in her mood when she’s around certain people, y’know? But you on the other hand would have absolutely killed him and felt nothing afterwards.”

“Eh, you’re probably right,” Roman shrugged, “I just hope that brat can bring my baby back home safe and sound.”

Oreonna punched him in the arm for that one. Hard. Harder than she probably should have, but after hearing her uncle’s comment she felt as if he kinda deserved that one.

XXXXXX

“We’re here,” Nichol was paying attention to the coordinates more than Oran, mostly so he could focus on driving. Hearing his friend’s words, Oran stopped the bike and parked it off the road on the off chance anyone would be driving this far out from the city.

Oran and Nichol looked around. The countryside near Vale was always pretty, just a continuous grove of grass, trees and flowers as far as the eye could see, but it was usually infested with Grimm at this time of night. Why nothing had attacked them yet was a mystery to both partners, but on the chance something did get the jump on them, they had their weapons readied for battle.

“There’s nothing here,” Nichol pointed out.

“You wanna head back?” Oran asked.

Nichol didn’t respond.

“Making an observation, got it,” Oran smiled for a brief moment before putting his hand up to his mouth and shouting: “Hey! Anyone there! I got your message!”

“That might attract Grimm, you oaf,” Nichol scolded her partner.

“Relax, only negativity attracts Grimm,” Oran assured her before taking another quick look at Nichol, “So, y’know, maybe you shouldn’t have come after all. And why DID you come along anyway?”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t screw something up,” Nichol responded.

“Aww, Nicky cares!” Oran giggled before being punched in the shoulder, “Hey, ow!”

“Not like that, moron,” Nichol explained herself, “The last thing I want is Oreonna and Maybelle hating themselves over your death, and that means even more noise when I’m trying to study.”

“Sure,” Oran didn’t feel like continuing this conversation, but knew full well he would have eventually won, probably, “But thanks for coming along anywa--”

“I hate to cut this talk short, but didn’t I say for you to come alone?”

A voice spoke out from the darkness of night. Only the moon was any good source of light, and even then it wasn’t bright enough to illuminate the shadows underneath the trees which the voice more than likely came from. It was female, a bit older than Oran and Nichol but still rather pretty. Either partner couldn’t for the life of them figure out which tree the voice came from, but they both readied their weapons for battle.

“Relax, you two,” the voice spoke again, “Unlike you I actually uphold promises and came alone myself. I’m unarmed. I just want to talk.”

“Who are you?” Nichol angrily asked the voice, not letting down her guard.

“Hey, hey now, Nicky, this is my mission so I’ll ask the questions, probably more politely than you anyway,” Oran stopped Nichol, and not wanting to argue right now she stepped back, “Thanks. Anyway, WHO ARE YOU?!”

“Quite the tone difference,” the voice spoke sarcastically, letting out a short though not in any way malicious laugh, almost as if she was... proud? “You got a lot from him, I guess.”

“Okay, no, but seriously, who are you?” Oran asked again, calmer and less jokey this time.

“You really don’t know, do you?” the voice spoke again, somewhat concerned but mostly saddened, “Well, I suppose you wouldn’t. But perhaps some reminders are in order.”

“Reminders?” Oran inquired, “Uh, what kind of--”

“Your full name by birth is Orange Vermilion Bellows, but your first name was changed and shortened to just Oran a week later,” the voice spoke again, listing off official information about Oran “You were born in an Atlas military camp, and you were put in an Atlassian orphanage after your father, Valencio Bellows, died fighting to protect you. You were released at fourteen to attend Alsius academy in Atlas and afterwards traveled to Beacon to finish your huntsman training.”

“Okay, so you know a lot about me,” Oran said skeptically, “But I’m no moron! Uh, most of the time, anyway, heh. You could have easily pulled that info from anywhere!”

“True,” the voice spoke again, admitting the information was easily obtainable, “But tell me, do you know exactly how your mother died?”

“My mother?” Oran felt his heart race again, “She... She died giving birth to me. It was extreme blood loss after an unsuccessful--”

“Caesarean section operation?” the voice finished Oran’s sentence almost mockingly.

“Y-Yeah, how did you--?”

“And because of how ‘unsuccessful’ it was, you earned a permanent scar across your chest when a doctor’s knife slipped and cut your skin, right?”

“That’s what my dad told me,” Oran admitted, “But why do you know this? How do you know this? I never even told my friends about that scar!”

“Oran, something’s wrong,” Nichol expressed her concern with where this conversation was going, “I don’t think this person is just some stranger toying with you. I think she’s--”

“Wait, Nicky, just hold on,” Oran stopped his friend, causing her to clench her fists and teeth in frustration, “I want to hear it from her side.”

“Ah, so Valencio didn’t completely lie to you,” the voice spoke, a soft chuckled coming from the trees, “That makes this a little easier. So tell me, Oran, do you truly have no idea who I am?”

“No, I don’t,” all jokes were off the table. Oran wanted, no, needed to know just who this person was that was telling him all these things regular people, let alone some common thief shouldn’t know. As he answered this, the voice’s owner finally stepped out from the shadow of a nearby tree, revealing herself.

The woman was much older than Oran and Nichol but still retained a pleasant and rather attractive face. She was tanned, though it seemed to be because she was out in the sun for long periods of time. She wore a brown, short-sleeved vest with a belt of dust bullets of different attributes around her torso. All over her arms were several bandages covered in dirt and even some blood, and the parts not covering her arms Oran could seen tons of scratches and scars. Ripped, black pants held up by a blue belt with a gold buckle protected her legs, and on the belt was a weapon either teammate couldn’t quite see what it was. On her feet were a pair of dark red, spiked sneakers most likely used for climbing walls. Her long, brunette hair was tied into a braid that went down her back and was kept together with an orange band at the end. The feline faunus ears atop her head twitched from excitement, and her brilliant emerald eyes with cat-like slit pupils shone brilliantly in the light of the moon.

“Still no clue?” the woman finally spoke again, raising an eyebrow.

A moment passed where just Oran and the woman stared at each other.

“...Nope, not a clue,” Oran finally shrugged, giving up.

Nichol slapped her face.

But then, something happened that neither she nor her partner saw coming. The woman, despite her intimidating appearance of a hardened thief living her life away from society, began to laugh. It wasn’t even a light giggle, or a low and menacing chuckle, this woman was laughing because she found it legitimately hilarious. Nichol had heard that laugh before, so many times since she arrived at Beacon academy. There was no mistaking it.

“Hahahahaha! Ahaha! Ahhh...” The woman finally calmed down, “Oh, sorry, that was just funny to me. You got your dad’s charms for sure, kid! I’m wondering if you got anything from me now besides my eyes.”

Like a freight train hitting a duck and before getting slammed into by a massive airship and then gunned down by every soldier in the Atlassian army, the realization of who this woman was hit Oran.

“Y-You don’t mean--”

“Sorry for being so mean and mysterious earlier, I wanted to look edgy and cool for a first impression,” the woman apologized, “And I don’t even think I introduced myself! Hahaha! Well, let’s fix that. My name is Nerine Oblivia, but you can just call me Nerine if you want. Oran, I’m...”

She paused, taking a deep breath and preparing herself before continuing her introduction.

“...I’m your mother.”

Description
“Ma-a-an! Wow, they did some serious renovations in this place!” a certain orange-haired hyena faunus exclaimed as he looked about the rather large hall.

Saturday meant free time for Team MOON, and as per usual Saturday also meant exploring the kingdom of Vale to see what sights could be seen. Each week the four members would take turns selecting what they would do that day, whether it'd be roaming the streets looking for new and exciting things or choosing certain locations to check out. Oran's turn this week had him choosing the latter, and the rest of Team MOON were sure he was going to take them all to an amusement park of some sort. Not that Oreonna and Maybelle would have minded going to such a place, of course.

What they didn't expect, especially Nichol who was always insistent on telling her teammates that an outing picked by Oran was a wasted one, was for Oran to take them to a rather large museum in downtown Vale.

The museum was gorgeous; white painted walls and a finished, glossy stone floor made way for an already fantastic display of foreign and exotic flowers from all over the world. At the end of a long, blue and gold carpet was a reception desk with a marble desk and no one currently stationed there. This odd lack of presence from the staff urged Oreonna to finally speak up.

“Hey, Oran, this is cool and everything, but what's the catch?” Oreonna skeptically asked her friend.

“The catch?” Oran responded innocently, “Oh, dearest Oreonna, perhaps I simply enjoy the finer things in life such as observing the past. Have I ever brought you three to someplace nice-looking and forgotten to mention there was a catch to it?”

“Yep,” both Oreonna and Maybelle spoke at the same time, recalling the time Oran brought the team to a high class restaurant with every intention of dashing and dining. They somehow never got caught, but they're all pretty sure they aren't allowed there anymore.

“Twice,” Nichol actually spoke up to express her own thoughts, remembering the time when her partner thought it was a good idea to bring his friends fishing in a Grimm infested lake. Oran wanted to try to fish up some aquatic Grimm just to impress her and ended up aggravated a Sea Dragon. Nichol still wasn't sure how they managed to survive, only that they did and Nichol was exhausted at that point.

“Okay, okay, so I haven't been 100% honest with you guys during my location suggestions,” Oran begrudgingly admitted, speaking the understatement of the century, “Which is why I've brought you all to this museum to chill out and not panic during our time together!”

“So no catches?” Maybelle inquired, still unsure of what to make of Oran's strange choice.

“Absolutely none, I promise this time,” Oran promised and swore, “In fact, I'll even tell you three why I've brought you here so there's no confusion.”

“Okay, so why are we here?” Oreonna raised an eyebrow.

“I asked the owner of the museum, a good friend of mine, a little earlier if we could come in before opening hours so I could show my friends something,” Oran began.

Already a few red lights were blaring for Team MOON. For starters, how would someone like Oran have a guy like the owner of a museum as a friend. Furthermore why would he let Oran come in early? Friend or not that was just bad for business. But lastly, and probably strangest of all, what in the blue hell was Oran so insistent on showing his team that he came to a museum, a place he usually found boring and uneventful, before opening hours to show it?

“Now I don’t want to spoil the surprise, so everyone just follow me.”

Unsure of what to make of Oran’s plan, both Oreonna and Maybelle nonetheless agreed this time Oran was telling the truth. Besides, he was their friend and he deserved a chance to redeem himself for all of his past suggestions. They went along with him, Nichol not too far behind as she too was interested in what Oran had to show his team.

Passing by all the ancient artifacts and wonders of the past, the team went deeper and deeper into the practically abandoned museum. They passed by armors worn by legendary heroes long since gone and sculptures crafted in their honor. They even saw a skeleton of a creature that lived on Remnant a billion years ago. But despite all that, they pressed on.

“Uh, it’s not the lizard skeleton over there?” Oreonna inquired, confused as something like that would usually be the only thing Oran was interested in when visiting a museum.

“Nope,” Oran shook his head, a light, jovial chuckle coming from him afterwards, “Though that IS pretty cool! No, what I want to show you guys is in the weapons section.”

“Oran, wait,” Maybelle stopped, the rest of her team following in accordance “Since when have you been interested in weapons?”

“Since, like, forever?” Oran’s eyebrow rose up, his arms and by extension his weapons, the Gust Bracers, flexing for a brief moment not long after, “It’s kinda hard to repair these bad boys when you don’t know at least a little bit about weapons and weapon repair, yeah?”

“Well, yeah,” Maybelle shrugged as the team continued their walk to Oran’s desired destination “but what I mean is your hands have been the only weapon you’ve ever concerned yourself with, so, like... y’know.”

“I think I see what you’re trying to say, May,” Oreonna stepped up, taking her friend’s place and finishing her question, “Basically, she’s asking where the whole interest in weapons came from when you’ve only ever looked at your gauntlets, let alone weapons from a previous era.”

“Ah, ah, ah! I getcha!” Oran winked, “Yeah, still no real interest in them, but this one’s greater than mine!”

“If you brought us out here just to show us something ‘better than yours’,” Nichol spoke up after all this time, “you are never going to choose where we go again. I have better things to do than marvel at some useless piece of junk.”

“Under normal circumstances I’d be insulted you said that, Nicky,” Oran raised his index finger, “But because you have no idea what I’m trying to show you, I’ll forgive you this time.”

Nichol only responded with a grunt, not entirely up to listening to her partner’s overly happy attitude right now. He wasn’t really in any position to give forgiveness either after all of his other suggestions, but at this point Nichol couldn’t care less where the hyena faunus was taking her, her day was already wasted as is.

“Okay, we’re here!” Oran stopped in front of a white pedestal with a glass box on the top, “Yeah, we’re here alright.”

Team MOON all looked around their teammate and saw what was inside the glass box. Resting on a translucent stand was what appeared to be hunting knife much newer and more advanced than the broken, busted-up weapons surrounding it. The handle’s guard was a blade that curved into the center of the knife, which was black and circular. The actual knife part of the weapon was longer than the guard, with sharp, curved hooks on the blade used for piercing the tough hides of Grimm. In the center of the weapon was a symbol, a stylized silver X.

“Whoa,” Oreonna observed the knife in its entirety, “This is pretty new! I mean, compared to all the rusty swords and shields in this place. Is this what you wanted to show us?”

“Yep!” Oran nodded, looking back at the weapon, “The reason I was able to come here early with you guys is because I actually donated to the museum! I get some special privilege to come and see this old thing whenever I want.”

“You donated this to the museum?” Maybelle inquired, “Awesome! Glad you’re doing something good with your life, Oran!”

“Hey!” Oran felt slightly offended by his friend’s comment, but understood it was all in jest. He eased not a moment later.

“The craftsmanship is beautiful,” Oreonna observed, “The blades look recently sharpened and the whole knife looks like it was cleaned yesterday. Oran, just where did you get this thing?”

Before Oran could answer, Nichol spoke up.

“He stole it,” Nichol answered for her partner, giving a better response than she was sure the hyena faunus could give. Oreonna and Maybelle looked over and gave her a sour look as if she just committed every terrible sin known to human and faunus-kind. Nichol was unfazed by their glares, more than likely because she gave them the exact expression on an almost daily basis.

“We saw the weapon, let’s go back,” Nichol continued, turning to head back to Beacon, “We’ve wasted enough time here. I need to go and practice for my--”

“It was my dad’s.”

Nichol stopped in her tracks. She turned around to face Oran but didn’t change her expression. But that was fine; the fact Nichol stopped to listen to him was enough for Oran. Oreo and May looked at their orange-haired friend with both confusion and intrigue in their eyes, pressing him to continue what he meant by his words.

“Heh heh! Sorry, didn’t mean to sound so serious there, it’s just that I know it’s the only way you’ll actually listen to me, Nicky,” Oran laughed before going back to his train of thought, “But yeah, this thing was my old man’s. See?”

The others hadn’t noticed it before, but right below the glass case was a metal engraving with a description of the item displayed. The thing the team’s eyes were attracted to were the words “Raging Tempest, owned by Valencio Bellows and donated by Oran Bellows.”

“Raging Tempest?” Maybelle smiled at the name.

“Yeah, my dad liked to sound cool,” Oran giggled, “But the best part about this thing is that it could turn into a boomerang and make this big tornado to blow away foes! It was awesome! Sometimes, when I got stuck in the tree near our home, he’d use this to blow me out of it and then he’d... catch me.”

Oran noticeably slowed down as he was finishing his sentence, recalling all of the good times he spent with his dad. Suddenly, he felt a small hand on his shoulder, an act of one of his teammates trying to comfort him no doubt. He chuckled, slowly turning around to see who it was, knowing it definitely couldn’t have been Maybelle.

“Oreo, if you’re worried about me, I’m perfectly fi--”

He stopped talking as he saw who it was that touched his shoulder, her usually piercing orange eyes now calmer and even apologetic, which was a mood Oran never usually saw his partner in.

“I... I can relate to losing family,” Nichol admitted, finally taking her hand off of Oran, “The knowledge of being alone forever? The pain of never truly getting to know your family? I’m sorry, Oran, I had no idea this weapon was your father’s, so I apologize for whatever I said.”

Not being the reaction Nichol expected from, she was legitimately surprised when Oran actually began to laugh. At first disappointed not a single word of her speech got through his thick skull, she was shocked when her partner suddenly began to hug her, continuing his laughing fit. It wasn’t until a few moments later that he finally calmed down.

“Hahaha! Nichol, that was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” Oran soon let go of Nichol, a warm grin ever present on his face, “But I’m fine, honest. Yeah, I was sad when my dad died, but if there’s anything I learned from him, it’s not to think about the past too often or it’ll start weighing you down. After all, I have you guys, don’t I?”

“Aw, come here!” Oreonna jumped at the chance to hug her teammate. Soon enough Maybelle joined in as well. The hug lasted a bit longer than Oran and Nichol’s mainly due to Oran understanding physical contact was one of Nichol’s least favorite things, and that's saying a lot, but of course the hug did eventually come to a close.

“Thanks you guys,” Oran smiled.

“Hey, uh, don’t mean to change the subject of anything, but what happened to your mom?” Oreonna curiously inquired, earning a curious reaction from Oran, “I mean, it’s just that you always talk about how awesome your dad was and we never hear anything about your mom.”

“Well probably because I never knew her,” Oran shrugged, “My dad says she died when giving birth to me. But from the stuff my dad told me, she was pretty cool too, if not a little clumsy. Brunette hair, beautiful emerald eyes and cute little cat ears on her head.”

“A feline faunus?” Maybelle asked.

“Yep! Kinda lucky I didn’t end up as some kinda freaky half-dog half-cat monster,” Oran chuckled, “But yeah, never actually knew my mom so I don’t have too many feelings towards her. I do kinda wish I got to know her though.”

Nichol especially felt a little hurt that Oran could so easily say that about his family. After everything she had been through for her partner to just disregard his family like that pained her, but she didn’t speak up on the topic. She knew she had a tendency of ‘ruining the mood’ as it were, and she had already come dangerously close to doing so today.

“Anyway, the owner said we could stay as long as we like today, so everyone go and enjoy!” Oran sent his team away to have some fun in the museum.

“Sweet! I want to check out that lizard skeleton again!” Oreonna excitedly rushed back to the previous hall to observe the fossilized skeleton from before, “May, you coming?”

“Yeah, sure!” Maybelle walked over to where Oreonna was waiting for her, “And also maybe later we could see some of those

The only two remaining were Oran and Nichol, both looking over the glass case with the former’s father’s weapon sealed and protected within it. Oran attempted to walk away from the display case, but Nichol stopped him.

“Wait,” Nichol halted her partner in his tracks, “One thing still confuses me.”

“Shoot,” Oran turned around, happy to answer anything his friend had to ask.

“I understand your father meant a lot to you, and I understand you’ve moved on from his passing, but,” Nichol paused for a moment before continuing, “Why donate his weapon to the museum? Why not keep it for yourself as a reminder of him?”

“Ah, that,” Oran smiled, “Well, what end would it solve, huh?”

“What?” the question wasn’t inquiry on Nichol’s part, more akin to confusion spoken in a rather menacing tone.

“Well, think about it,” Oran shrugged, “Why would I keep something owned by someone I looked up to when I could instead let everyone see it and show them just how awesome and cool my dad was?”

Nichol understood perfectly. With a quick nod, she left Oran and went to see something else in the museum as it seemed she was stuck here until her team was ready to leave. However, she stopped and turned to head half way to say something else to her partner.

But no words were spoken. Having said nothing, Nichol continued on her way to the rest of the museum. Oran wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, but after her surprising apology earlier and legitimate concern with his well-being, he probably had an inkling of what she wanted to tell him. Satisfied, he left the Raging Tempest on its pedestal for all to see when the museum finally did open, running over to join most of his team by the powerful-looking lizard skeleton.

XXXXXX

“Midori, it’s true, I am madly in love with you.”

After Team MOON’s somewhat eventful day at the museum, nighttime for them was a time to just sit down and relax. Oran was sitting on his bed playing a some kind of video game involving penguins while Nichol was on her bed trying to read her book while her teammates were being as loud as ever. She pretended to be reading a book she got from Professor Oobleck and studying, when in reality she was trying to finish up a book called The Lost Melody, a book truly precious to her.

Of course this was difficult as Oreonna decided today was the day she would introduce Maybelle to anime. Nichol had no issues with the art form, she always tried to keep an appreciation for the arts, but Oreonna had somehow mathematically selected the cheesiest anime the silver-haired girl had ever listened to.

“Oh Ao-kun! I’m in love with you too!” the characters on Oreonna’s scroll spoke, “But I’m also in love...” there was a suspenseful pause, “...with your cousin Shiro.”

Maybelle gasped at the outcome of the show while Nichol inwardly groaned, unable to block the sound from her mind. Suddenly a poorly translated song began playing, signalling the end of the episode the two female faunus were watching. Nichol tried her best to not let out a relieved sigh, but a small huff escaped her lips. Thankfully it didn’t sound too much like relief per say and the others continued their lives without acknowledging it.

“Oh my goodness, this show is good!” Maybelle’s eyes lit up in excitement, “The suspense, the intrigue, the romantic plot! Oreo, why haven’t you shown me this ‘anime’ thing before?”

“Ah, I, uh, wasn’t sure you’d like it,” Oreonna sheepishly chuckled, looking back at her scroll and the title of the anime. Kōkō: Karā Mai raifu, which literally translated to High School: Color my Life. It was literally the cheesiest anime Oreonna could find and she put it on as a joke before showing her friend something actually good, unable to foresee May actually enjoying the show.

“Hey-o! Level 10!” Oran exclaimed.

Knowing full well she couldn’t argue with her idiot friends, Nichol slammed her head into her book and groaned.

“Alright, well, it’s been fun, May, but I want my scroll back,” Oreonna flipped her scroll around and exited the video website to pull up her homepage: a news website. She knew her teammates weren’t exactly the most in-the-know kind of people so she felt it was her duty to inform them on things happening in their world, especially after the whole fiasco with Maybelle’s friend Violet. She begrudgingly replaced her father’s website as her homepage to the news outlet.

“Okay, some things going on before we go to sleep,” Oreonna did this every Saturday night just to keep her team aware of goings on, “Wow, some guy one the lottery in Mistral! How about that?”

“Cool,” Oran was sort of listening, focused more on his game than anything else.

“Also it seems Violet’s new trade route proposal between Menagerie and a little inhabited island off the coast of Mistral is in the next stage of development!”

“Oh, that’s good,” May smiled, “I’m glad she’s doing okay. We really need to get together again.”

“Agreed. Maybe a lunch with everyone and not just you?” Oran snickered.

“We’ll see, but I’m sure she won’t mind too much,” Maybelle shrugged.

“Okay, and last but certainly not least, a bad one just to even it all out,” Oreonna read the headline of the story and began to read, not fully processing what the article was going on about, “Museum in Vale is--” it finally hit her, “Oh my god.”

The sudden change of atmosphere caused everyone to look up at Oreonna, awaiting for her to explain what she had just read. Oran especially had perked his head up from the game he was playing to listen in on what his friend was about to say.

“Museum in Vale is robbed,” Oreonna continued, “It says this all took place a within the last hour. Nothing was stolen except a...” she paused, collecting her thoughts, “Except a rare boomerang hunter’s knife donated by Oran Bellows.”

Oran’s scroll dropped out of his hand and onto the floor.

“That’s... no, that’s impossible,” Oran shook his head in denial, getting off of his bed and onto his feet, “Oreonna, please tell me this is some kind of sick joke. It’s not super funny.”

Without hesitation, Oreonna passed her scroll to Oran and allowed him to read what she had just read. After a moment of Oran glossing over the text and getting what information he needed, he slowly lifted his head from the scroll and gave it back to the monochrome-haired feline faunus.

“Why the hell would anyone steal my dad’s knife?” Oran questioned no one in particular, a rare anger starting to build up within him, “Out of everything in that place, there HAS to be something more valuable than it, no offense to my dad of course.”

“Oran, I’m sorry, but unless that place had another knife donated by your long-lost twin brother that went by the same name, your dad’s knife was stolen,” Oreonna spoke up, attempting her best to explain the situation to him.

Oran slumped back down on his bed, the weight of this new info perhaps too much for him.

The room was quiet for a minute, but it honestly felt like hours for the team. The air felt heavy for some reason. It would seem Oran’s usually chipper mood was Team MOON’s primary source of moral, and without that the room just felt emptier and difficult to breathe in.

“I just don’t believe it,” Oran shook his head, “Of all the things there, why my dad’s knife?”

“I can’t say I know, Oran,” Maybelle walked over to him, sitting down next to him on his bed and being careful not to crush the scroll still on the floor, “But remember what you said back in the museum?”

“About not thinking on the past?” Oran looked up at his leader, no, his friend.

“Yeah,” May nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder, “And that whole thing about us being your family and whatnot. It’s true! Family can be a lot of things, but from my own experience I know that family isn’t some hunter’s knife. I know it was important to you, but like you said it’s best not to dwell on the past, right?”

Oran thought about May’s words. The others were unsure of how he would react.

“Heh,” Oran cracked a smile, a wave of relief flowing through the other members, “Yeah, you’re totally right, May. That knife, I don’t need it to remember him,” he looked up at his friends as the smile on his face widened, “And you’re right, or I guess I’m right, hahaha! You guys are like family to me.”

Oran wrapped his own arm around May in a sort of half-hug.

“Thanks, you guys,” Oran nodded, but suddenly began to look a little sad again, “Still, I don’t want my dad’s knife

Suddenly, on the floor of their dorm, Oran’s scroll vibrated. Curious, Oran picked it up and saw that he just got a text from someone, an unknown caller as a matter of fact.

“Who is it?” Oreonna asked him.

“I don’t know,” Oran raised an eyebrow, “Might be a virus,” a grin soon appeared on his face, “but hey, I live on the edge of life! And I need a new scroll anyway.”

Oran opened the text from the unknown messenger. After giving it a quick read to make sure it wasn’t just some junk mail, his smile soon faded away. Oreonna immediately took notice of this and was about to ask him what it said, but Oran was quick to tell his friends anyway.

“Meet me outside Vale at these coordinates if you want your knife back. Come alone,” Oran read the message aloud in its entirety save for the confusing coordinates that he knew he had no hope of deciphering, “Uhhhh... Well then, either someone’s trolling me or someone legit has my dad’s knife out there.”

“Does it say who it’s from?” May asked.

“No, May, it doesn’t,” Oran rolled his eyes and shook his head, “What’s weird is that I haven’t given my number out to anyone but you guys. So unless Nichol over there suddenly decided she found pranking someone else funny, I would of course applaud her because she got me good. But in all seriousness, I think this person is for real.”

“It wasn’t me,” Nichol responded not defensively but rather harshly.

“Yeah, highly doubt it was grumperella over there,” Oreonna chuckled, “But if this is the real deal, what are you going to do, Oran?”

Oran thought for a moment on his options. On one hand he could contact the authorities about this, which seemed like the most obvious and safest choice he had. The only downside was he may never know just who the messenger was, which was a question plaguing his mind for a while now. On the other hand, he could ignore the message and go about his merry way enjoying his time with his teammates, but this was probably the most dangerous option as the thief could use his father’s boomerang knife for anything they wanted. A lot of people could get hurt because he chose to do nothing.

On a third, imaginary hand which Oran didn’t have but wanted to think it was his foot somehow, Oran could follow the text’s instructions and seek out the messenger. It could mean threatening his very life, he didn’t know, but he knew if he did this he would get the answers he was seeking. He had made his choice.

“Oreonna,” Oran spoke up.

“Hm?”

“Would your uncle still be awake?”

Oreonna grinned.

XXXXXX

“You’re damn lucky I have such a wonderful niece, kid, or I would say no a thousand times!” Roman Torchwick twirled his cane around his arm, his other hand resting on the red motorbike he definitely didn’t steal.

If there was anyone in the entire kingdom that would be happy enough to give Oreonna anything she wanted it was Roman Torchwick, ex-criminal mastermind (or so he said). While not related to her by blood, certain ties lead Roman to be a sort of godfather for her, though the nickname a younger Oreonna gave him was so loved by the ginger-haired man it just sort of stuck. Now Roman would do anything for his niece, lest his ex-girlfriend and Oreonna’s mother, Neo, did something bad to him.

“Whoa! You’re giving me this?!” Oran sounded surprised by the revelation.

“No, I’m letting you borrow it,” Roman scowled, “And if I find out a scratch is on her, something real bad is gonna happen to--”

Oreonna coughed, alerting Roman.

“...my insurance,” Roman backpedaled probably faster than he ever had in his life, “I was going to say my insurance.”

“Right,” Oreo snickered before looking at her hyena friend all too eager to get on the bike and ride off, “Oran, I put the coordinates in the bike’s GPS already, so don’t worry about getting lost.”

“Got it,” Oran nodded.

“And if you get in a tussle, don’t hesitate to run.”

“Yep.”

“And make sure you don’t--”

“Oreonna, I got this,” Oran laughed at his friend’s fear for his safety, “I won’t do anything too stupid, I promise.”

“...Okay,” Oreonna nodded and backed away, “I just wanted to hear it from you. Just please, don’t die, alright?”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want a dead teammate on our team,” Maybelle attempted to add some humor into this situation, a trick that appeared to work as Oran giggled at her joke. Just before Oran was about to ride off and meet with this mysterious person who stole his father’s knife, Nichol stepped forward and spoke up.

“I’m going too,” she said flatly.

“Nicky, I appreciate it, but the message said that this guy wants me to come alo--”

Nichol pulled out her spoon-shaped blade and held it to Oran’s neck faster than anyone could react. She spoke not a word and simply glared at her teammate, keeping the blade up to his neck until he responded.

“Now usually when a friend threatens to kill another friend, it’s usually a bluff to get what they want,” Oran said, feeling his pulse getting faster as Nichol’s blade was getting closer and closer to slicing off his head, “But because I know for a fact you actually WOULD kill me, hop on.”

Without a word, Nichol lowered her weapon and got on the back of the motorcycle, grabbing some goggles on the side compartment of the bike and putting them over her eyes. Oran soon followed, forgetting the wind in his face would probably blind him while he was driving. With one final wave farewell, the two drove off to go and meet with the messenger.

“Oh, so you let grumps-a-lot over here threaten your friend but not me?” Roman voiced his complaint to his niece after the two were gone around the corner, noticing she and her other friend did nothing to stop the silver-haired girl from holding the equivalent to a knife up to Oran’s throat.

“Yep,” Oreonna simply responded.

“And how come?” Roman was becoming increasingly aggravated by the faunus girl.

“Because I know Nichol wouldn’t have killed Oran,” Oreonna explained, “She likes him too much, even if she’s too prideful to admit it. After spending a lot of time with her, you start to notice little quirks in her mood when she’s around certain people, y’know? But you on the other hand would have absolutely killed him and felt nothing afterwards.”

“Eh, you’re probably right,” Roman shrugged, “I just hope that brat can bring my baby back home safe and sound.”

Oreonna punched him in the arm for that one. Hard. Harder than she probably should have, but after hearing her uncle’s comment she felt as if he kinda deserved that one.

XXXXXX

“We’re here,” Nichol was paying attention to the coordinates more than Oran, mostly so he could focus on driving. Hearing his friend’s words, Oran stopped the bike and parked it off the road on the off chance anyone would be driving this far out from the city.

Oran and Nichol looked around. The countryside near Vale was always pretty, just a continuous grove of grass, trees and flowers as far as the eye could see, but it was usually infested with Grimm at this time of night. Why nothing had attacked them yet was a mystery to both partners, but on the chance something did get the jump on them, they had their weapons readied for battle.

“There’s nothing here,” Nichol pointed out.

“You wanna head back?” Oran asked.

Nichol didn’t respond.

“Making an observation, got it,” Oran smiled for a brief moment before putting his hand up to his mouth and shouting: “Hey! Anyone there! I got your message!”

“That might attract Grimm, you oaf,” Nichol scolded her partner.

“Relax, only negativity attracts Grimm,” Oran assured her before taking another quick look at Nichol, “So, y’know, maybe you shouldn’t have come after all. And why DID you come along anyway?”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t screw something up,” Nichol responded.

“Aww, Nicky cares!” Oran giggled before being punched in the shoulder, “Hey, ow!”

“Not like that, moron,” Nichol explained herself, “The last thing I want is Oreonna and Maybelle hating themselves over your death, and that means even more noise when I’m trying to study.”

“Sure,” Oran didn’t feel like continuing this conversation, but knew full well he would have eventually won, probably, “But thanks for coming along anywa--”

“I hate to cut this talk short, but didn’t I say for you to come alone?”

A voice spoke out from the darkness of night. Only the moon was any good source of light, and even then it wasn’t bright enough to illuminate the shadows underneath the trees which the voice more than likely came from. It was female, a bit older than Oran and Nichol but still rather pretty. Either partner couldn’t for the life of them figure out which tree the voice came from, but they both readied their weapons for battle.

“Relax, you two,” the voice spoke again, “Unlike you I actually uphold promises and came alone myself. I’m unarmed. I just want to talk.”

“Who are you?” Nichol angrily asked the voice, not letting down her guard.

“Hey, hey now, Nicky, this is my mission so I’ll ask the questions, probably more politely than you anyway,” Oran stopped Nichol, and not wanting to argue right now she stepped back, “Thanks. Anyway, WHO ARE YOU?!”

“Quite the tone difference,” the voice spoke sarcastically, letting out a short though not in any way malicious laugh, almost as if she was... proud? “You got a lot from him, I guess.”

“Okay, no, but seriously, who are you?” Oran asked again, calmer and less jokey this time.

“You really don’t know, do you?” the voice spoke again, somewhat concerned but mostly saddened, “Well, I suppose you wouldn’t. But perhaps some reminders are in order.”

“Reminders?” Oran inquired, “Uh, what kind of--”

“Your full name by birth is Orange Vermilion Bellows, but your first name was changed and shortened to just Oran a week later,” the voice spoke again, listing off official information about Oran “You were born in an Atlas military camp, and you were put in an Atlassian orphanage after your father, Valencio Bellows, died fighting to protect you. You were released at fourteen to attend Alsius academy in Atlas and afterwards traveled to Beacon to finish your huntsman training.”

“Okay, so you know a lot about me,” Oran said skeptically, “But I’m no moron! Uh, most of the time, anyway, heh. You could have easily pulled that info from anywhere!”

“True,” the voice spoke again, admitting the information was easily obtainable, “But tell me, do you know exactly how your mother died?”

“My mother?” Oran felt his heart race again, “She... She died giving birth to me. It was extreme blood loss after an unsuccessful--”

“Caesarean section operation?” the voice finished Oran’s sentence almost mockingly.

“Y-Yeah, how did you--?”

“And because of how ‘unsuccessful’ it was, you earned a permanent scar across your chest when a doctor’s knife slipped and cut your skin, right?”

“That’s what my dad told me,” Oran admitted, “But why do you know this? How do you know this? I never even told my friends about that scar!”

“Oran, something’s wrong,” Nichol expressed her concern with where this conversation was going, “I don’t think this person is just some stranger toying with you. I think she’s--”

“Wait, Nicky, just hold on,” Oran stopped his friend, causing her to clench her fists and teeth in frustration, “I want to hear it from her side.”

“Ah, so Valencio didn’t completely lie to you,” the voice spoke, a soft chuckled coming from the trees, “That makes this a little easier. So tell me, Oran, do you truly have no idea who I am?”

“No, I don’t,” all jokes were off the table. Oran wanted, no, needed to know just who this person was that was telling him all these things regular people, let alone some common thief shouldn’t know. As he answered this, the voice’s owner finally stepped out from the shadow of a nearby tree, revealing herself.

The woman was much older than Oran and Nichol but still retained a pleasant and rather attractive face. She was tanned, though it seemed to be because she was out in the sun for long periods of time. She wore a brown, short-sleeved vest with a belt of dust bullets of different attributes around her torso. All over her arms were several bandages covered in dirt and even some blood, and the parts not covering her arms Oran could seen tons of scratches and scars. Ripped, black pants held up by a blue belt with a gold buckle protected her legs, and on the belt was a weapon either teammate couldn’t quite see what it was. On her feet were a pair of dark red, spiked sneakers most likely used for climbing walls. Her long, brunette hair was tied into a braid that went down her back and was kept together with an orange band at the end. The feline faunus ears atop her head twitched from excitement, and her brilliant emerald eyes with cat-like slit pupils shone brilliantly in the light of the moon.

“Still no clue?” the woman finally spoke again, raising an eyebrow.

A moment passed where just Oran and the woman stared at each other.

“...Nope, not a clue,” Oran finally shrugged, giving up.

Nichol slapped her face.

But then, something happened that neither she nor her partner saw coming. The woman, despite her intimidating appearance of a hardened thief living her life away from society, began to laugh. It wasn’t even a light giggle, or a low and menacing chuckle, this woman was laughing because she found it legitimately hilarious. Nichol had heard that laugh before, so many times since she arrived at Beacon academy. There was no mistaking it.

“Hahahahaha! Ahaha! Ahhh...” The woman finally calmed down, “Oh, sorry, that was just funny to me. You got your dad’s charms for sure, kid! I’m wondering if you got anything from me now besides my eyes.”

Like a freight train hitting a duck and before getting slammed into by a massive airship and then gunned down by every soldier in the Atlassian army, the realization of who this woman was hit Oran.

“Y-You don’t mean--”

“Sorry for being so mean and mysterious earlier, I wanted to look edgy and cool for a first impression,” the woman apologized, “And I don’t even think I introduced myself! Hahaha! Well, let’s fix that. My name is Nerine Oblivia, but you can just call me Nerine if you want. Oran, I’m...”

She paused, taking a deep breath and preparing herself before continuing her introduction.

“...I’m your mother.”