5. Welcome to Vale(Part 5)

The car door closed with a satisfying thunk, muffling the buzz of the school grounds. Jaune exhaled as he slumped into the passenger seat, greeting his dad and dropping his backpack to the floor by his feet.

His dad glanced over from behind the wheel with a half-smile. "So. Day one at the big city school. Did you get bullied or embarrass yourself?"

Jaune snorted. "Neither. I lived. Barely...."

"Promising start."

The car pulled out of the lot and merged into late afternoon traffic, the sun casting streaks of gold across the dashboard.

Jaune leaned his head against the window, watching the unfamiliar streets blur past. It wasn't a long drive, twenty minutes, give or take.

Just long enough for the weight of the day to sink in.

"Two weeks of catching up to do." Jaune said after a moment. "The classes are all halfway through, with stuff I haven't seen since middle school."

His dad gave a sympathetic hum. "Hmm, you need a tutor?"

"No, I'll manage. But still..."

"Which subject was the hardest then? Physics or... no... don't tell me Art was hard?" his father jested, giving him a half grin.

"Haha, very funny." Jaune scoffed. "Math's dense and Physics was faster than I'd have liked, but I'm not drowning. Ruby helped."

"Ruby?" His dad's tone shifted just slightly.

"Girl that was assigned by the school to be my "buddy". She is in all my classes, and we sat together. She showed me around too. Pretty nice."

"Nice as in helpful? Or nice as in-"

"Dad."

He grinned. "Just asking."

Jaune rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his mouth betrayed him. "Anyway, English was easy. Teacher didn't call on me since I'm new. Art was cool, too. We got to draw whatever we wanted."

"What'd you draw?"

"A mountain. Kinda looked like that ridge near the old bakery. Wasn't great, but better than stick figures."

"You loved that ridge," his dad said, chuckling. "Always said it looked like a dragon laying down."

"It does look like a dragon. You just never had any imagination."

"Ah, right. My mistake. I'll try harder next time."

Jaune turned more in his seat, propping one elbow on the armrest. "Honestly? It wasn't bad. Weird being the new kid again, though. Everyone already seems to have their groups."

"Teenage politics," his dad drolled, sarcastically, "truly a nightmare to navigate."

"Right... like you were the ultimate protagonist in high school."

"Well... I was certainly popular. Lets just say that."

Jaune laughed. "Uh huh... Casanova, much?"

His father shrugged in response.

The rest of the drive passed in light conversation and stretches of companionable silence and as soon they pulled into the driveway, Jaune let his head fall back against the seat, eyes closed, before opening the car door and shimmying himself out.

"Not bad for a first day," his dad said, shutting off the engine.

"Yeah," Jaune murmured. "Not bad at all."

Jaune kicked off his shoes the moment he stepped through the door and let out a long breath as he headed upstairs to his room. The house was still half-full of unpacked boxes, but at least the essentials were in place which made it feel more home-y

When he entered his room, he dropped his bag in the corner, turned on his holo-computer, and flopped into his chair. The screen hummed to life with a soft chime, projecting a floating interface above the desk. He scrolled past unread messages and school notifications before opening one of his favorite games.

A single-player strategy RPG that he'd nearly completed but still loved to sink time into.

Outside his door, he could faintly hear his dad moving around in the kitchen, possibly attempting to cook something edible for the two of them to eat.

"Please don't burn anything," Jaune muttered under his breath, though with a smile.

Time passed quickly. Between side quests and tactical battles, the sun dipped below the horizon, and the dim blue of early night blanketed the windows.

At around eight, a voice called from downstairs. "Dinner's ready!"

Jaune stretched, groaned, and shuffled downstairs.

The kitchen smelled amazing. A dash of garlicky, savory, and rich. His father was already seated at the small table, dishing out a generous helpings of spaghetti onto two plates. The sauce was thick and red, sprinkled with herbs and a bit of cheese.

"This," his dad declared, tapping his fork against his plate, "is a halfway-decent Mistralian dish. Not my best ever, but it'll do."

Jaune took his seat and twirled a forkful. "Looks pretty good to me."

They dug in, the silence between them filled only with the quiet clink of utensils and the occasional satisfied hum.

"Not bad," Jaune said after a few bites. "Definitely on par with Beacon's cafeteria food."

His dad gave a confused smile. "I'll take that as high praise?"

After a moment, Jaune asked, "So, how was work?"

His dad leaned back in his chair slightly, wiping his mouth with his hand, unbothered with the grease stain.

"Busy. Still doing intake stuff. We've got two new hires in admin and about a hundred forms to process between them. Payroll's still a mess. And I spent half the day fixing someone's mistake with shipment records."

"Sounds thrilling," Jaune said dryly.

"Oh, the height of excitement. If I ever write a memoir, it'll be called Death by Paperwork."

Jaune chuckled and took another bite. "Guess we both had pretty exciting days."

"Oh please," His dad scoffed, "yours was certainly more fun than mine. It's not exciting or anything but... it's stable. Pays the bills and gives us a place like this."

Jaune looked around their modest kitchen. It was still new to him, but it already felt more like home than he expected it to.

He gave a small nod.

"Thanks, Dad."

His father just smiled and tapped his glass against Jaune's water cup. "To surviving Monday."

"To surviving Monday," Jaune echoed.

They kept eating, reveling in the quiet warmth of the food. 

After the last fork clinked against an empty plate, Jaune stood and began gathering the dishes.

They worked side by side in the kitchen, his dad rinsing while Jaune dried, the faucet hummed softly amidst their teamwork in the background.

"I think this is the most domestic I've felt in years," Jaune faux complained, wiping off water from a plate.

"Oh yeah?" his dad smirked. "Should I be worried you're going to start baking again?"

"Tempting. But I left my apron in Ansel."

His dad chuckled, handing over another plate. "Shame. I miss the blueberry tarts."

They were just finishing up when the scroll on the counter buzzed.

His dad glanced at it and immediately blanched. "Oh no."

Jaune didn't need to ask. He saw the caller ID and winced in sympathy.

"NICHOLAS ARC!"

Jaune flinched, and the volume wasn't even aimed at him.

His dad winced and held the phone a few inches from his ear. "Yup. That's the one."

"How DARE you not call me after his first day! Do you know how long I've been waiting for a message?! A call?! A single photo?! It's his first day at a new school in a new city and you—!"

Her tirade continued without pause. Jaune counted a solid sixty seconds before his dad managed to sneak in a word.

"We were going to call after dinner!"

"That's what you always say, Nicholas! You forget! You always forget!"

"Why didn't you just call Jaune's phone?" His dad muttered under his breath.

"What was that?!"

Jaune tried to cover his snickering behind a cough. His dad shot him a betrayed look as the scroll continued its verbal assault.

Finally, Jaune reached over. "Maybe I should take that."

His father handed it over like it was a live grenade. "Please."

Jaune pressed the scroll to his ear. "Hey, Mom."

The yelling halted like someone hit pause. "Jaune?"

"Yup. It's me."

"Oh thank goodness," she said, breathless and emotional now instead of furious. "Are you okay? Did you eat? Were the kids nice? How are the teachers? What did you wear? Was the air clean? Was the food edible? Were there chairs?"

Jaune blinked. "Uh… Yes. Yes to all of that. It was fine. Kind of overwhelming, but I survived. I even made a friend. Ruby. She showed me around."

"Oh! Is she cute?"

"Mom!" he exclaimed.

They chatted for a while longer, his mom firing off a dozen more questions in rapid bursts. Jaune filled her in on his schedule, his classes, and the view from the art room window. She was still insistent she should've driven to Vale with them "just to make sure everything was settled properly," and Jaune had to gently reassure her several times that things were fine.

Eventually, the energy in her voice softened.

"I'm proud of you, Jaune."

He blinked. "Thanks, Mom."

"Call me tomorrow."

"I will."

"Every day."

"…We'll see."

She made a dramatic sigh and finally hung up. Jaune handed the scroll back to his dad.

"That go well?" his dad asked, drying his hands.

"Better than it could've," Jaune said. "I think I dodged the 'daily photo check-ins' for now."

"Miraculous."

They stood there for a moment longer before Jaune checked the time.

"I should probably get started on homework. Ruby gave me some notes to help catch up."

His dad nodded. "Alright. If you need anything, I'll be in the living room. Being old."

Jaune grinned. "Got it."

He headed upstairs, his footsteps a little slower than before. The day was starting to weigh on him again—but this time, in a good way.

Once in his room, he sat down at his desk, the soft hum of his holo-computer kicking on again. A digital notebook floated into view, and he pulled up the notes Ruby had sent him. Algebra first. Then Physics. Maybe.

The first day was behind him.

Now... came homework...

Fortunately, Jaune wrapped up his last subject just after ten, blinking at the glowing text suspended in the air. It took a couple of hours, but by the end of it, he felt more caught up than he expected.

A knock came at his door.

His dad poked his head in. "Hey, just a heads-up. I've got to start leaving earlier for work, so I won't be able to drive you to school tomorrow. You remember what I told you earlier today?"

Jaune nodded, stretching. "Yeah. I'll take the train."

His dad nodded.

"There'll be breakfast on the stove before I go. Don't forget to eat."

"I won't."

His dad gave him a thumbs up, wished him good night and disappeared down the hall.

Jaune set an alarm on his scroll, just to make sure he would wake up on time tomorrow, then powered down the holo-computer. The familiar whirr faded out, replaced by the quiet hum of the city outside.

He changed into a loose T-shirt and sweats, brushing his teeth and splashing water on his face before returning to his room. He hesitated at the edge of his bed for a second, then collapsed onto it with a muted groan, pulling the covers up.

It had been a long day.

He climbed into bed, the room dark except for the faint city glow filtering through the blinds.

And with that, he let sleep take him.

But sleep would be the last thing on Jaune's mind, for it seemed that the moment he closed his eyes...

He was elsewhere.

His soft, comfortable bed had vanished—replaced by something cold and coarse. There was a sour, musty stench in the air, thick enough to make his nose wrinkle. The warmth of his blanket was gone, and he could feel every chill in the air biting through his shirt.

Jaune's eyes snapped open. "What the hell?!"

He sat up, heart pounding, and stared in disbelief.

The room around him was ruined.

He had been lying on what could barely be called a mattress—its cover torn and stained, the stuffing half-spilled, with jagged springs jutting out like rusted bones. The walls were cracked and broken, chunks of plaster missing, exposing rotted beams and slivers of sky through fractured gaps in the ceiling. The floor was littered with debris: crumbled drywall, broken glass, and water-stained furniture, all steeped in decay