Homeless Bunny (RWBY/Campione)

Homeless Bunny 19

Tianyu Yue

I hummed merrily as I pounded corn kernels into fine powder in a large molcajete, a traditional Mexican mortar and pestle. It weighed more than a hundred pounds and the pestle could easily be used as a club. It was also more than a century old.

I’d had the thing made when I visited Mexico for Annie’s twenty-second birthday bash. I found a volcanic outcrop, dug down until the bedrock, and quarried the hunk of rock myself. Then I traded seasoning tips with a group of old abuelas to get the ideal color and sheen. The thing still worked like a dream today, each use adding to the complexity of flavor.

Beacon had blenders of course. I didn’t need to make my own corn flour this way. But why wouldn’t I? We were done with class and there was something to be said for traditional tamales.

It was remarkably easy to decorate the center expanse of our room. The twins texted Junior, he had their things wrapped by the time class let out, and I made a quick hop to Vale to go get them. The round trip took ten minutes, and only because I stopped to make Junior a cup of coffee.

Next to me, my partner leaned against my back with her crimson guitar on her lap. She gently plucked at the strings, matching her strumming to the steady grinding of my pestle. Across the room, Melanie read some trashy bodice-ripper while Amber watched something on the news.

We could be training; we had time. Beacon had a small number of core classes because this was a vocational school. In the same way a school program for air traffic controllers didn’t need to teach advanced biochem, many classes had been stripped down or specialized to better instruct huntsmen.

And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to disturb our moment of tranquility. The twins had mellowed out around Amber. I wouldn’t call them friends, but they looked like they’d get along well enough to not start a cat fight the moment I turned my back.

It was the first day. I could cut us some slack.

Our silence was interrupted by a loud gasp from Amber. She pulled off her earphones and floated over. The way her eyes flickered from her scroll to me, then to the corn in my bowl told me I probably wouldn’t like it.

I sighed and bit the bullet. “Yes, Amber? What’s going on?”

“Just watch this,” she said.

She held out the scroll for us to see and turned up the volume. There was Lisa Lavender, the darling belle of Vale News Network. She was once again in her studio, the emblem of the White Fang projected behind her.

“This just in, the White Fang may be supplying their food shortages by raiding local farms. An alleged operative stripped a cornfield bare before leaving behind a dozen vials of an unknown drug in ‘payment,’” she said, curling her fingers in mocking apostrophes. “We have Violet Dupree on-site with the latest.”

The camera then toggled out to a familiar farm, where the man I’d met last night stood with some young reporter.

“Thanks, Lavender,” she said. She waved to the field to her right. Sure enough, it was the exact same field I’d “purchased” my ingredients from. She thrust the mic in the farmer’s face. “As you can see, the entire cornfield has been stripped bare. Mr. Hughes, can you tell us what happened last night?”

“Yeah, it’s the darndest thing. So I was sleeping with the missus, right? Then at one in the morning, there’s a polite little knock on my door. Well, I can never be sure these days, so I opened the door with a shotgun. There was this little rabbit faunus fella, who, polite as could be, asked if he could have some of my corn husks.”

“Corn… husks…?”

“That’s right. Now, I thought it was a prank, maybe some of his buddies would be out back trying to tip my cows or something, but nope. We argued a bit, he told me he wanted to give me these all-cures or whatever, and then the next thing I knew, I was waking up on my couch and he was gone.”

“I see. And your harvest is gone now?”

“No, no. The little fella was true to his word. All the corn was shucked and stored in my silo, just like I’d do it myself. The husks though? They were gone.”

“What about this payment he promised?”

“Oh, those, I couldn’t trust them, you see. When I called the cops, I gave it to them so they could figure out what all was in the little green vials.”

“You heard it here, Lisa. Back to you.”

The camera turned back to the studio. She wasn’t alone. Seated next to her was a man in a police uniform, a ten-gallon hat set authoritatively in front of him.

“Thank you, Violet. With me here is Detective Powers of the Vale Police Department to offer his expert opinion. Detective, what do you think is going on? Has the VPD confirmed that this is White Fang activity?”

Detective Powers twirled his mustache, almost as impressive as Port’s. “While we cannot conclusively say so at this time, nor can we reject the possibility. We are investigating with all the seriousness this deserves. If this is indeed White Fang activity, this represents a great escalation in their operations, likely headed by an elite agent of theirs who recently snuck into the city.”

“An elite agent? Please elaborate.”

“Months prior, a rabbit faunus posing as a traveler assaulted two of the gate guards before leaping into the city with a movement-enhancing Semblance. He had snow-white hair and crimson eyes, but had never been cataloged before despite his obvious criminal actions and recognizable face. That suggests a degree of skill that is only seen at the highest levels of the Fang leadership.”

I stared slack-jawed at the scroll. This fucker… He… He was calling me a terrorist! I left a dozen panaceas and I was a terrorist! Me! Again!

The twins looked at my stupefied face and promptly bust out laughing.

“Furthermore, though he was never apprehended, all charges on this individual were dropped. The case against him was closed through orders from up top without any explanation provided beyond that he had a ‘character witness,’” he said derisively. Ozpin. Ozpin had closed the files when I moved to Beacon. “As if a rat bastard criminal could have a valid character witness. But now the case is open again. It’s clear that he’s laid low until now but we’ll get to the bottom of those plans!”

“But Detective Powers, when approached, Mr. Hughes stated for the record that nothing of worth was stolen, just the corn husks, and that he was not pressing charges. In fact, he said that his harvest was ahead of schedule thanks to this mysterious rabbit faunus.”

“Bah! Hogwash! You think the White Fang could be trusted to do something good for the hardworking farmers? Mark my words. Those drugs we confiscated were his attempt at getting the farmer addicted, pushing a new product.”

“Why though? The White Fang has never peddled narcotics before.”

“And that’s why I’m saying this is an escalation in their operations! The Fang are eyeing the city’s food supply and they sent a lone elite to show us how bad things could get. You’ll see. After this comes the threat. They’ll have the city cave to their demands.”

Lisa looked concerned now. Whether this was because she thought he was an idiot or because she was starting to buy his bullshit, I didn’t know. “Detective Powers, do we know he is the same rabbit faunus as before?”

“Snow-white hair. Red eyes. Short enough to be in middle school. Oh, yeah, that’s him.”

Amber shut off the scroll. She looked at the corn in my molcajete and then at me. I could tell by the way her mouth twitched upward that she was stifling a laugh. Still, she managed to keep a mostly placid face and raise an eyebrow in mocking question.

“So, team leader,” she drawled, “would you like to tell us something?”