Remnant's Calling

2x6: Kindling Embers & Distant Echoes

Yang and Pyrrha stood across from each other, beads of sweat rolling down their foreheads. Neither one of them was keen on giving up, and they were pushing their limits to nearly breaking. Yang was strong and quick, but Pyrrha was quicker. They traded blows over and over, and as time was ticking down, both knew one another's aura was close to cracking. Pyrrha drew in a breath while Yang wiped the sweat from her brow. Preparing for a final strike, they took a stance and eyed each other down. Pyrrha moved first, kicking off into a lunge with her javelin hanging loose by her side. Yang followed up with a concussive blast from her Ember Celica gauntlets. The resulting collision kicked up a massive cloud of dust and debris. Small chunks from the gladiatorial platform littered what could be seen. Then, as the dust begun to clear, the two fighters laid across from each other, their auras flickering and dying simultaneously. 

"A draw," Goodwitch said curiously. "There hasn't been one of those in a long time." With a wave of her riding crop, the arena's destruction started to be reversed to its original state. "For future reference, do try not to destroy my arena. Even if fixing the damages is trivial, it gets rather tiresome after some time." 

While Yang and Pyrrha pulled themselves together, the ever-present bell rung, and signaled for everyone else to get the hell out of there. 

"You're an excellent fighter, Yang," Pyrrha told her with respect and admiration for her opponent.  

She chuckled and pointed a finger at the fiery-haired Spartan. "Right back at'cha," Yang said with a wink. 

The gesture made the spartan laugh before they headed to the cafeteria, meeting up with their respective teams. Although a familiar sight greeted them: the lone Jacket-wearing enigma sat by himself. 

"Does anyone know if he talks to anyone but us?" Asked Jaune.

"He barely even talks to us," chimed Nora, sounding mostly sane for once. "What about you guys?" 

"Meh, he doesn't really talk to us that much either," Ruby replied. "But there have been a few times where he has used his voice."

"WHAT!?" Screamed Nora, alerting the whole café. "You get to hear him talk?!" 

"Not all the time!" Ruby replied, glancing at all the prying eyes. "Besides, he only really talks when it's something important. Mostly, anyway." 

The quiet Weiss seems to flinch at the notion. 

"But, I'm sure he would if you asked him to!" Stammered Ruby in a timid tone.

"Hello!" Said the familiarly cheery voice. 

Everyone snapped to the towering Jacket with a recorder in hand. Nora nearly lunged at him, but Jaune and Ren stopped her. 

"Can you talk for us?" Nora asked after calming down. "Without that doohickey."

Jacket stared at her for a few brief moments of silence as he glanced at his food, poking and prodding it with his fork.

"What for?" He asked, his voice sending chills down some of their spines. Except for Nora, who Jacket could've sworn had mini hearts in her eyes.

"It'll help us become more acquainted with you," Ren replied.

Jacket eyed him. "That would be unnecessary. All of you already know what I look like," he said.

"As true as that be, knowing your voice will help us in the case that device of yours—" he pointed at the recorder."—becomes damaged."

"That's unlikely but sure," said Jacket, eating some of the food that he kept close to himself.

"No one's gonna take it, y'know," chimed the snarky Heiress.

He moved the tray, although still seemed tense. "Habit," he said absently.

"What? You pick it up from prison or something?" Jaune joked with half curiosity.

Jacket grunted in confirmation, garnering all of their attention.

The chilling somber, yet tense, air choked the moment. Although they wanted answers, no one had the gall to pry, most of them were thinking the same thing: what did he do?

"Anyway, I'd like to eat in peace."

"Oh, I've got something for you to eat," blurted Yang, making him choke on his steak.

He glared sidelong at her while he had a coughing fit. Yang held back her laughter as she watched him. "Sorry, I had to! The joke was right there to make!" She said through stifled fits of laughter.

The bell rang and the group of dumb kids began taking their leave, except for Yang who stayed with Jacket.

⋯

"You've gotta admit it was funny," Yang said, walking beside him.

"It would've been if I wasn't eating," he stated simply.

"So you admit it was funny?" She asked, shooting him a sidelong glance.

"Maybe," he replied with a shrug. 

"I'll take that as a yes," she said, making him chuckle. "Alright, talk to you later." She waved before disappearing into a classroom. 

Jacket did the same after finding his way to his class. However, as he strolled along, past memories flooded his mind. Waves of nostalgia followed after that, but the most important ones were of his mom and dad. He stopped dead in his tracks and stood like a statue in the middle of the hall. Hot bile burned his throat like acid at the mere thought of forgetting his parents. Disgust twisted his insides as fiery hatred scorched himself.

"Mr. Fritz, are you okay?" A voice asked.

The question snapped him out of his daze and he gazed at the source of the concerned voice.

"You were standing out here by yourself, and you were shaking," added Professor Peach. "It was like you were trying to move but couldn't."

"Uh, sorry about that. I was just lost in thought," Jacket replied with his usual stoicism, running his hand over the back of his neck.

"Are you sure, young man?" She asked. "I don't believe most thoughts could induce such a trance."

He chuckled and waved her off. "I'm fine. Besides, I'd rather not hold up class."

"Please, a lesson can wait if there are more important matters to attend to."

"I'm fine, really, Professor. It's nothing important," he told her.

"If you say so, Mr. Fritz," Professor Peach understood begrudgingly. "Come now, let's not ruin your attendance any further."

He nodded with a thumbs-up and followed after her, his head hanging low.