A Rabbit Among Wolves

Chapter 28

"James."

"I know it's him."

"James, you can't arrest a man based on his abs."

"Those abs are guilty, Ozpin. Just look at how they twitch with guilt!"

"You especially can't arrest a faunus based on his abs, at a time when faunus-human relations are the most important thing we have, and where your enemy benefits from labelling you as racist." Ozpin said. "Do you have any idea what kind of message this sends?"

"That hiding behind a mask will not save you."

"And buttoning a shirt will," Glynda muttered.

"That Atlas will not rest, will not stop-"

"And will not hesitate to analyse every last crease in a muscle structure." Ozpin interrupted. "James, this is madness. You realise that. This is all some practical joke, right? The cameras are about to come out any moment, Mr Wukong will point at me and everyone will be shouting about how I fell for it."

Ozpin had a sinking suspicion there were no cameras.

General Ironwood didn't respond. Sun Wukong was in a room guarded by two soldiers, but rather than a one-to-one interrogation, Ironwood was behind a glass mirror with Ozpin and Glynda. He claimed it was more unsettling that way, seeing little wrong in the idea of unsettling a student. A transfer student, no less. If the newspapers didn't want Ozpin's head on a platter by morning, Lionheart would.

Angrily, Ironwood gripped the speaker and asked, "Where were your abs on the date in question?"

Mr Wukong blinked. "Uh. Attached to my body...?"

"Ahah!" Ironwood barked. "So you admit you were there!"

"Where?"

"Don't play dumb, Wukong. You've already slipped up once."

"I must be dumb because I feel pretty confused right now..."

He wasn't the only one. Ozpin looked forlornly at his cane and considered where a strong enough tap to the back of James' head might solve this issue or not. Alas, he had diplomatic immunity and strong relations were not forged by the braining of one's allies.

"James," he tried diplomatically. "Can we talk?"

"We are talking. Go ahead. I can multi-task."

Something about that had Ozpin's eyes narrowing. "You're using your Semblance."

"Of course I am. The White Fang need a strong leader to be taken down. There can be no room for distractions, Ozpin. That's your problem. You have too much on your plate."

Oh bloody hell, James was using his Semblance again. Ozpin sent a quick look and a nod to Glynda, who slipped out the room with more haste than was characteristic of her. Ozpin took the chance to step forward and place a hand on his old friend's shoulder.

"When was the last time you slept, James?"

The General sent him an annoyed glare. "I recuperated from 2300 hours to 0300 hours. Why?"

"Four hours. And when was the last time you had more than four hours sleep?"

"The body can be adequately sustained by four hours, Ozpin. Anything more is wasteful. Don't get started on eight. That's 33% of the day. You might as well ask the White Fang to clap us in chains."

Mettle was a curious Semblance. It allowed James to hyper focus on his given task by removing all the little mental distractions that would get in the way. Doubt, compassion, fear – common sense. You wouldn't have thought the latter would have to go, and it wasn't like he became an idiot, just... too focused on the goal. Much too focused.