I'm back at the warehouse, which remains unchanged. Not that it could change much in the four days I was gone. I'm back to my usual job of moving crates because Roman has only been bringing more crates instead of hiring people to store them.

He doesn't even want to hear that my inventory only helps me carry them, not organize them, which I can only do one by one—and that alone takes most of the time. At least today I should be finished with probably the last shipping container of dust. I shove the final crate into place and step outside, sealing the door with a satisfying clang. Done. Finally.

No more work for the day.

Or so I hope. I still need to report to Roman, see what other menial tasks he has lined up or if I'm miraculously free to go.

I find him in his usual spot, hunched over that disaster he calls a desk. It has become more and more chaotic over the time and he excused himself as some sort of artistic organized chaos. Today, it's more chaos than organized, with crumpled papers scattered everywhere.

And he is chewing on his thumb, a scowl etched deep into his face.

Maybe Cinder chewed him out, or came up with new demands that he doesn't know how to materialize, but that isn't my problem, it's entirely his problem and that makes him miserable.

His misery is one of the few things that brightens my day around here.

"Hey, job's done." I announce.

Roman's eyes flick towards me, a brief spark of interest quickly smothered by annoyance. "Well, well, if it isn't our feline friend. Change of plans, kitty cat. That container you just filled? It needs new cargo."

I blink, certain I've misheard him. "Come again?"

A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth as he leans back, twirling his stupid cane. "You heard me, kitty. Unload it. By evening."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I snarl, my hands clenched into fists, itching to beat that smug face. "I just spent hours loading that thing! Couldn't you have mentioned this? Oh, I don't know, fucking hours ago?!"

The prick rises from his chair, sauntering over with that infuriating confidence towards me. He leans in close, blowing a puff of cigar smoke right in my face. "Now, now, where's the fun in that? Besides, plans change, kitty. That's life in the big bad world. Now, be a good little Faunus and get to work."

This fucking bastard… he is actually enjoying this.

I knew that.

I fucking know that.

And…

And I'm sick and tired of this.

"No."

Roman's eyebrows shoot up, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his features before it's quickly masked by amusement.

"No, fuck you. I won't do shit. Fucking hire somebody else to fix YOUR fuck up." I jab a finger in his direction, my voice dripping with venom.

He uses his cane to lower my hand, slowly letting out a chuckle. "No? My, my, the little stray has grown some claws. Tell me, kitten. Did you forget that funny video of yours? One click and you can return to that nice little cozy cell. I'm sure our good officials from Vale will be happy to book you the same cell as before and throw in some shock therapy as a bonus."

I narrow my eyes, a low growl rumbling in my throat.

I should back down. It would be logical to back down after that clear threat. I'm aware of how fucked I would be and how much I can lose...

But funnily enough... lose what exactly?

"And?! I'm already a fucking outcast in this forsaken world! What else can that video even do to me at this point?!" I finally release a harsh laugh before baring my teeth at him. Much to my own surprise, that i suppress, my brass knuckles materialize between my fingers. "Do it then, you coward. Fucking do it so I have nothing holding me back from wiping that stupid smirk off your face."

Roman narrows his eyes and leans back, his cocky demeanor faltering for a split second, a falter that I noticed and he knows it. "Wow, one small vacation and you've lost all your manners." He has the audacity to exhale in exasperation and wave his hand dismissively. "Neo, be a dear and teach him some manners."

I momentarily freeze when he calls her out, instinctively looking up to find Neo sitting atop a mountain of crates, swishing her boots back and forth.

She grins and hops off, landing with a single jump at Roman's side. Her mismatched eyes gleam with sadistic glee as she twirls her parasol.

He simply gives her a pat on the head, flashing me another smug smile. "Dear, try not to break him too much. We still need him... mostly intact."

Neo happily nods and takes the first step, her mismatched eyes gleaming with what I can only assume is the sadistic glee I have known for a long time.

But I hold my ground, knowing what will happen. My rational mind is screaming at me to back down, to swallow my pride and grovel at Roman's feet. But something deeper refuses to yield and I'm gripping that thing, not letting it go.

Yet what cuts deeper than any blade is seeing Neo taking his side. After all we've been through, after the small moments of kindness she's shown me, the escape she offered... even that evening. Was it all just a game to her?

Then what the fuck does that shitty affection system even means?

I knew this was coming. Of course I did. Neo and Roman have been partners for years, while I'm just... what? A stray they picked up a few months ago? A convenient tool? An idiot?

It doesn't hurt. I tell myself it doesn't hurt. But the sensation in my chest betrays me. It sucks. It really fucking sucks.

If only she'd hesitated. If she'd shown even a flicker of doubt, of restraint. But no. She's all smiles and eager compliance. And that... that makes me feel more alone than I've ever felt in this godforsaken world.

Still, I raise my fists. My brass knuckles glint in the dim light, with the resolve to fight back. I'm at a disadvantage, sure, but when have I ever not been? I've spent my whole life fighting uphill battles. What's one more?

Neo's grin widens at my defiance. She pulls out a stiletto from her parasol with a flourish; the blade catching the light.

She pauses before me, only to blow a mocking kiss.

And then she spins on her heels, quick as lightning, and starts jabbing Roman's stomach with her weapon. His yelp of surprise echoes through the warehouse.

"W-what?! Ouch ouch! Knock it off, Neo!" Roman's voice rises to a pitch I've never heard before as he stumbles backward, frantically trying to fend her off.

But Neo is relentless. She darts around him, poking and prodding him as many times as she wants, all while giggling like the madwoman she is.

"Stop it, dammit! You'll ruin my jacket!" Roman's desperation is palpable as he swings his cane wildly, missing Neo by miles. "FINE, FINE, YOU WIN!"

Only when he accepts defeat does Neo finally cease her 'attack', a triumphant smirk playing on her lips.

Roman straightens up, indignation plastered all over him. "You're supposed to be on my side, you little minx." He frantically adjusts his jacket, checking for damage with a scowl. "But fine, if you want to coddle the stray, be my guest. I'll find someone else to clean up this mess."

His attention shifts to me, and I realize I'm still poised for a fight. Roman's eyes narrow, a mix of annoyance and calculation in his gaze. "As for you, kitten, do whatever the hell you want. Just make sure the job gets done. Understood?"

With that, Torchwick storms off, probably leaving the warehouse.

But in my case, I slowly lower my guard, still surprised by the sudden turn of events. Neo stands before me, twirling her parasol with that enigmatic smile of hers.

"Why did you help me?"

Neo's smile falters, replaced by a quizzical tilt of her head. But that only serves to irritate me.

"Don't give me that look," I snarl, my ears flattening against my head. "I know you. What's your angle here? What do you want from me? Because I sure as hell don't understand anymore."

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I see the shift in her expression. The playful glint in her eyes dims, replaced by something else entirely that makes inexplicably uncomfortable.

 

[Affection with Neo Politan decreased by 1, 30/100]

 

Shit…

I immediately store my weapons.

"No. Neo, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like a complete asshole. I... fuck. I seriously didn't think..." I pause and scratch my head with both hands, growing more frustrated as words fail me. "Look, Neo-"

She silences me with a finger to my lips, her mismatched eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something darker. Before I can react, she pinches my cheek hard, her grip just shy of painful.

Wait, that's what adults do to naughty children.

I suppress the urge to lash out, forcing myself to endure this childish punishment.

'Angry kitten, cute kitten'

The words appear above her head and I release a long, tired sigh, my hand slowly reaching for hers. I hold it for a moment before gently moving it aside.

"Thank you for standing up for me," I mutter. "I just... I really thought you took his side. It's what I've come to expect, you know? The logical thing, stick with your partner, not someone lik-"

Neo's response is swift as she flicks my nose, hard enough to sting.

'Dummy'

"Oi!" I growl, rubbing my nose and glaring at her.

Neo's response is a smug smile and a playful stick of her tongue. She twirls her umbrella open, resting it jauntily on her shoulder as she saunters past me.

I turn, reaching out instinctively to stop her, but my body freezes. I watch, hand outstretched, as she vanishes from sight, leaving me alone with my confusion.

I should've stopped her. Should've... what? Apologized more? Asked her to stay?

It's this letting go? No, that's dumb.

No, this is... it's better this way. She needs space. I need space. Some time to think and get my head straight.

But the warehouse feels a lot colder now despite having aura.

Clearly, I can't stay here for another second. Too much has happened in too short a time. My mind is a mess at the moment.

Even so, I can't contain the smirk of satisfaction that creeps across my face. I technically got back at that smug bastard Roman. It felt good. That, I cannot deny.

Pulling out my scroll, I check the time. I've got at least three hours before my shift starts at the club. Three hours is more than enough time to do something both useful and distracting. Something to help clear my head.

Like buying a new motorbike.

---

The golden hues of evening sunlight bathe Vale in a warm glow as I exit the postal office. The sky will darken within the hour, ushering in the city's vibrant nightlife. The three hours were enough to tackle the most pressing items on my to-do list.

I swing my leg over my new bike, a sleek machine painted a deep blue. At 65,000 Lien, it wasn't cheap, but as I feel the engine purr to life, I can't help but think it was worth every lien. Just need to get the plates sorted and register it properly following Neo's advice from when I still had that bimbo's bike.

My mind wanders back to the letter I've just sent. After months of waiting and hoping, I've finally taken matters into my own hands. The intercontinental fee to Menagerie was expensive, but the postal worker's assurance that it would reach Levi gave me some hope that I will finally get a response from her.

"Better late than never," I mutter to myself, unable to shake the regret of not doing this sooner.

But beating myself over this won't change anything. At least now I can say I've tried.

The bike roars to life as I kick the engine, and I weave through Vale's busy streets towards the commercial district.

Before long, I'm pulling into the alley behind the club. I store the bike in my inventory and approach the back door. The bouncer gives me a curt nod, stepping aside to let me in. Professionalism, that is what I can expect from Junior men.

Inside, I navigate the maze of corridors to the makeshift dressing room. I change quickly, donning the formal bartender's uniform. As I adjust my bow tie around the necklace, I catch a glimpse of myself in the detached mirror.

I do look good in a suit.

With a deep breath, I head towards my workplace.

The usual thumping bass that one would expect from a loud club is absent, replaced by soft lounge music. The club is eerily empty, save for the staff doing repairs and Miltia, perched on the bar counter in her usual red dress. Her leg is crossed over the other, and she's idly swinging her foot, looking a bit bored.

"You know, by the way Melanie was talking about you, I thought you'd be sulking in a corner somewhere," I comment as I enter the bar area, reaching for a glass. "Drink?"

She slowly turns her head and nods. "Yep."

"Knew it." I roll my eyes and head back to mix her a simple drink. Of course adding those small umbrellas as a finishing touch.

I slide it towards her, and she quickly picks it up, taking a short sip and humming in satisfaction.

However, an awkward silence soon falls between us. I was actually expecting her to start something.

Pressing my lips into a thin line, I grab a clean rag and start wiping down the counter, or more like polishing it.

Miltia keeps her silence, occasionally sipping her drink.

"So, any idea when the club will open back?" I finally ask.

She stops and turns to look at me with a dry look. "Gosh, you really are hopeless at this, aren't you?"

I stop my quick polishing, glaring right back. "And you aren't making it any easier, like what I'm supposed to say here?"

"Nothing?" She tilts her head, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"Uh, what?"

"Nothing. You aren't obligated to talk to me just because I'm here."

"Then why are you even here?" I gesture to the bar counter, exasperation creeping into my voice. "Trying to be eye candy or something?"

"Yeah?" She frowns, as if I've just stated the obvious. "It's part of the job, you idiot."

I blink, I thought they were bouncers or I'm misremembering things. "Part of the... wait, so you're telling me you're just here to look pretty and make awkward small talk with customers?"

Miltia sighs softly, swirling her drink. "Not everything's a conspiracy. Sometimes I'm eye candy, sometimes I'm breaking kneecaps. And sometimes..." She pauses as she leans closer, "I'm picking up all sorts of interesting tidbits from idiots who think flattery and a pretty face are all it takes to loosen my lips. You'd be amazed at what people let slip when they think they're in control."

"And Junior can sell that if it's juicy enough, right?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Bingo." Miltia finishes her drink, gently placing the glass beside her with a practiced grace that makes me want to roll my eyes. "And here's a freebie, Ma'iq: work on that poker face of yours."

My ears twitch in confusion. "My poker face?"

"I can read you like a cheap comic book," she says, green eyes boring into mine. "You're lucky it's me telling you this. My sister would've been less... polite about it."

"Am I that obvious?" I start to argue, but catch myself. No point in denying it. "No, you're right. Neo told me the same thing a while back. Guess I didn't really take her advice to heart. Seems like a running theme with me lately."

That gets her attention, one eyebrow arching up. "Still can't wrap my head around how that psychotic little mute hasn't gutted you already. Or at least broken a limb or three, no offense. But I've known for a long while."

I open my mouth to defend Neo, but the words die in my throat. Miltia isn't wrong, after all. I sigh, shoulders slumping. "Neo is... complicated. Confusing as hell, really. We're not even together, if that's what you're implying. It's... I don't know what it is. She can be surprisingly nice, someone I want to be around, but other times she's a real pain in the ass."

Instead of responding, Miltia reaches out and pokes my forehead, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. "And that, kitten, is how we get you to loosen those lips."

"Wait, what?" I blurt out, eyes widening as the realization hits me like a ton of bricks. My ears flatten against my skull as I scold myself for telling her about my private life.

"Okay, fuck you for that," I growl, heat rising to my cheeks.

The twin let out a laugh. "We've been in this game for years, Ma'iq. I would retire out of shame if I couldn't crack an amateur like you."

"I'm not an amateur," I retort, slightly frowning.

Miltia giggles. "That's adorable. But for now, stick to your job and I will stick to mine." She points somewhere behind me, making me look back over my shoulder and find people already taking seats and waiting for their drinks. "But if you really want to learn a few tricks, you know where to find me."

With that, she hops off the counter with grace. I watch her saunter away, her hips swaying with each step, clearly trying to tease me some more. Which is ineffective against me.

I'll keep her offer in mind, though. Could learn useful.

I move in to attend to the customers which are very straightforward as the majority only ask for beer.

Then one patron catches my eye. She points to a complex cobbler drink, its main ingredient strawberry. A challenge, but nothing I can't handle. I set to work, my hands moving with practiced efficiency. In less than five minutes, I'm placing the goblet in front of her, complete with a straw.

She flashes a smile as she takes it, but there's something off about that grin. It's too... smug.

Then her eyes shift, blue melting into pink and brown.

"Neo?!" I exclaim, my voice embarrassingly loud. Heads turn, and I quickly cover with a coughing fit. Thankfully, the other clients quickly lose interest as they drown their beers.

I lean in close, hissing through clenched teeth. "What are you doing here?"

She gives me an odd look and points at her strawberry drink… honestly I should have been more perceptive after such an obvious answer

But then my scroll buzzes with a notification.

'Just dropping by.'

Typical.

'I like the uniform but drop the bow tie. And it would be perfect.'

"No," I tell her flatly, adjusting my tie a little more. "Does Junior or the twins even know you're here?"

She flashes that knowing grin of hers, the one that makes me want to simultaneously smile and scowl.

"Okay, dumb question," I chuckle, shaking my head.

'Pretend you didn't see me.'

I look up, confused, to find her expression has turned serious. It's a jarring shift that inexplicably sets my nerves on edge. But before I can ask why, movement catches my eye.

But then I spot the reason, and my heart skips a beat. A woman in a long red dress is descending the stairs, oozing with confidence.

Cinder.

And she is alone.

My eyes dart to Neo, seeking any sign, any hint of what to do, but she's turned away, sipping her drink like any other patron. Right, she doesn't want to be spotted. I can't be the idiot who blows her cover.

Shit.

Why is Cinder here? And alone, no less? How can she strut around in the same outfit I described to Ozpin? She should be in hiding, laying low.

Fuck...

No, I can't panic now. I need to stay calm. I'm not alone in this mess. Junior's men and Neo will help if things go south... Well, at least I'm sure Neo will after what happened earlier today.

Cinder finally notices me and starts walking in my direction. But I stand my ground, watching her approach until she finally takes a seat on a stool, away from the other clients.

I take a couple of deep breaths, grab a menu card, and head towards her, treating her like any other customer. I place the menu in front of her and open my mouth to greet her.

"I won't apologize."

I didn't mean to say that. The words tumbled out before I could stop them.

Cinder is completely unfazed by my words and slides the menu towards herself, lifting it to read.

"I never expected you to," she replies without looking at me."I'm mildly pleased to see you haven't completely lost your spine."

I frown, slightly confused by her calm demeanor.

She leans forward slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you had groveled, I would have incinerated you where you stand. Consider yourself... lucky."

"I see. What can I get for you tonight... ma'am?"

"Dragon's Blood. Let's see if your skills match your new found bravado."

A woman who can turn anyone to ashes with a touch, and she orders a literal flaming drink. Fitting, in a way.

"As you wish."

I move to gather the ingredients, aware that she's picked one of the most complex cocktails on the menu. She wants to see me fail. Shame on her that I've prepared all these drinks before.

I start by tossing a handful of raspberries into the shaker, adding fresh lime juice before muddling them into a sweet, tangy pulp. Next comes a generous splash of rum, followed by a drizzle of thyme-infused simple syrup. I add ice, close the shaker, and give it a vigorous shake.

With the cocktail mixed, I strain it into an ice-filled glass. For the final touch, I grab a sprig of thyme, set it atop the drink, and strike a match. The thyme ignites, flames dancing above the ruby-red liquid.

Only then I pass it over to her who looks actually surprised because I've managed to make this drink, but that surprise turns into a scowl and blows the fire, effectively snuffing out the flame.

She brings the glass to her lips, savoring the taste with deliberate slowness.

"Impressive." She lowers her glass. "You have more qualities than meets the eye, don't you?"

I shrug. "Been told plenty of times. But I appreciate the sentiment, nonetheless"

I snatch up a nearby glass to polish to occupy my hands and somewhat distract my mind.

"But wouldn't you think this is very limiting to you, and what can you achieve?" She asks a strange question, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the counter. "Aren't you tired of being nothing but a street rat, eating the scraps of other?"

My ears perk up but quickly flatten against my head as I frown at that comment. "Yeah, I'm tired of it. But I'd rather take my chances alone than with you." The words come out harsher than intended, but I don't care. Whatever game she's playing, I want no part of it. She already fucked me over. I don't want to be even more.

She maintains a neutral expression as she picks up her drink again, going for another sip and lowering it as she starts swirling it. "You know, usually I take care of problems before they become annoying. All my problems were short-lived after all."

I stop polishing the glass. "And why didn't you?"

"Because unlike some…" A flicker of disgust crosses her features. "I recognize potential when I see it. Raw, untamed... but potential nonetheless." She drains her glass in one fluid motion, her eyes never leaving mine. "Might makes right, isn't that right, kitten?"

The patronizing tone makes my face contort into a scowl. But two can play at this game.

"Even if I beat up your… subordinate twice? I don't know if Mercury already told you, but if Emerald tries to attack me again or try anything funny, then I will kill her."

A dangerous smile plays on her lips. "Emerald's failures are her own. Her continued usefulness is... tenuous at best." Her eyes gleam with cruel amusement. "Although your threat to kill her was rather bold. I do appreciate initiative."

"You're direct." I set the glass down with more force than necessary.

"Correct. So I hope you can consider your choices carefully." She reaches into her dress, and I tense, only to see her produce a sleek card. And then she places it on the counter. "Good choices are met with rewards."

I carefully pick up the plastic card and send it to my inventory.

 

[500000 lien has been added to your inventory.]

 

I struggle to keep my face neutral, my mind reeling at the amount of money she's so casually tossed my way.

Cinder picks up her empty glass, studying it with feigned interest. "And poor choices... " The glass begins to melt in her grasp, rivulets of molten glass dripping onto the counter. Which thankfully, doesn't start a fire.

Although, I hope Junior doesn't blame me for that.

"I will think about it."

I won't, but whatever gets her to leave this place.

"See that you do." With a final, predatory smile, she rises and walks towards the exit with grace at every step.

I don't relax until she's completely out of sight. My legs nearly give out, and I slump against the counter, ears drooping, and I can even feel my tail go limp.

Neo slides onto the stool in front of me, her disguise still in place. But I can see the concern in her mismatched eyes.

"Let's just... go home," I whisper. "I think I've had enough of playing with fire for the day."

---