Chapter Text
Operation: Un-Whipped
Chapter Three: Plan B
Morning light crept through the blinds in thin, pale slats, cutting across the cramped bedroom like bars on a cell. Dust motes swirled lazily in the shafts of gold, undisturbed by the chaos that had reigned only hours before.
Jaune stirred on the floor, his cheek pressed against the carpet, the faint smell of sweat, dust, and stale fear clinging to the air. His back ached from sleeping in his improvised foxhole, and one of his legs was half-numb from being curled too tightly under the bed the night before.
Groaning, he rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as though it held answers. The barricade he'd built stood firm against the door: nightstand, chair, laundry basket, even his shield wedged awkwardly into place. For a brief moment, he wasn't sure if he should be proud of his handiwork… or humiliated.
His throat was dry. His heart still carried the echo of panic from Ruby's siege, and the memory of her singsong voice still haunted his ears. "You'll be stickier than a pancake at a toddler's birthday party…"
He exhaled sharply, rubbing both hands over his face. "Why… why did I think this plan would work?"
The light shifted across the room, warm and unrelenting, forcing him to squint. The apartment beyond the barricade was silent, but that silence didn't comfort him. If anything, it made him more nervous. Ruby quiet was Ruby plotting.
The knight sat up slowly, every muscle stiff, as the weight of the night before pressed heavy on his shoulders. Tired. Hungry. Ashamed. And above all else, painfully aware:
Operation: Un-Whip had already claimed its first casualty.
Jaune reached blindly for his scroll, still lying on the floor where it had fallen during last night's panic. The screen lit up, stabbing his tired eyes with cold light.
A string of missed messages blinked up at him:
[SUN]: Status update. Survived. Barely. Emergency regroup this morning, same spot.
[NEPTUNE]: Can confirm: danger level HIGH. Need to be out before she wakes up.
[REN]: I hate this plan. I might hate all of you. Meeting required.
Jaune's thumb hovered over the screen as he let out a weary groan. "Hopefully we move onto Plan B."
He hauled himself upright, joints popping like old hinges, and shuffled toward the dresser. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair a mess, but he yanked on a fresh shirt and jeans anyway. Anything to wash away the shame of last night's retreat.
Turning back to the barricade, he studied it like a man about to dismantle a trap. The nightstand wedged at an awkward angle. The chair crammed against his shield. The laundry basket tilted precariously, still full of socks.
"Okay…" Jaune whispered, crouching low. "Slow. Quiet. She might still be out there…"
Piece by piece, he eased the furniture aside, wincing at every creak of wood on tile. The shield clattered softly against the wall, and he froze, listening—holding his breath.
Nothing. Silence.
Finally, with the last chair pulled away, Jaune's hand hovered over the doorknob. He twisted it slowly, inch by inch, and cracked the door just wide enough to peek through.
The apartment beyond was still. No humming. No sparks. No Ruby.
Jaune exhaled and stepped carefully into the hall, the quiet somehow more unnerving than her relentless noise the night before.
The living room came into view. Ruby was slumped over the kitchen table, goggles pushed up into her tangled hair, cheek pressed to her folded arms. A soft snore escaped her, the wrench still lying beside her hand like she'd passed out mid-siege.
Jaune's eyes flicked immediately to the fridge. Blessedly shut. No milk carton in sight.
He released the breath he'd been holding and tiptoed across the floor, wincing at every faint creak of the boards. His bag was by the door. He snatched it up, held his breath again, and twisted the knob.
The door clicked softly behind him as he eased it shut. Victory. For now.
He turned—
And nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Morning," Neptune muttered flatly, standing in the hall. His hair was a mess, his shirt half-tucked, and—most notably—one of his wrists still sported the handcuff he'd chained to the couch the night before. The broken length of chain dangled from it like a grim trophy.
Jaune blinked at him, words failing.
Neptune raised his free hand, rubbing his temples. "Don't ask."
Jaune's mouth opened. Closed. Then he just nodded. "…Not gonna."
The two of them exchanged a look, equal parts exhausted and resigned, before trudging toward the elevator together.
Blake groaned softly as she stirred awake, rolling over to bury her face in the pillow. The sheets were still warm on one side, though empty—Sun's side. She stretched a hand out across it, finding nothing but rumpled blankets.
With a sigh, she sat up, rubbing her eyes against the spill of bright sunlight already flooding the room. Her ears twitched at the faint hum of traffic outside. "…It's too bright," she muttered, squinting.
It took another moment before she blinked properly awake. Something was… off.
She turned, fumbling for her scroll on the nightstand. The screen flared to life—then her stomach dropped.
"…No."
Her scroll showed the time in bold, undeniable numbers. Late. Way past when she usually rose. Her thumb flicked instinctively toward her alarm settings, only to find every toggle switched neatly off.
Blake's brow furrowed. "But I didn't—"
She froze, her thoughts slotting together piece by piece. The empty bed. The alarm mysteriously disabled. The memory of Sun being unusually resistant the night before.
"…He didn't."
She raked a hand through her hair, teeth gritting. "Oh, he did."
Her eyes narrowed as she swung her legs out of bed. The bookstore's new release day was today, which meant it would already be packed by now. Crowded aisles, long lines, new stock flying off the shelves—and her old books still sitting uselessly in a pile by the door.
Blake's ears flicked once, sharp with irritation. "He is so dead."
Outside the café, the morning crowd bustled past—hunters, students, early risers with steaming cups in hand. Sun leaned against the wall, sunglasses in place but no real swagger behind them. His tail twitched in restless arcs, betraying the tension bubbling under his forced grin.
Next to him, Ren sat with his usual composure… or at least, the closest he could manage while wrapped in fresh bandages across his arms and collar. A strip of gauze trailed under his shirt, the aftermath of what could only be described as the Great Vegetable War of Vale.
Sun gave him a side glance. "You look like you fought a Nevermore."
Ren adjusted his sleeve calmly. "Broccoli," he said flatly.
Sun barked a short laugh, then rubbed the back of his neck, nerves creeping back in. His eyes darted to the street, scanning like he expected Blake's silhouette to appear at any second.
Ren raised an eyebrow. "You're unusually jittery."
Sun forced a smirk. "Me? Nah. Just… enjoying the morning, you know? Good air, good vibes. Totally not thinking about how Blake's gonna kill me when she realizes I sabotaged her alarm and left her to deal with the new bookstore crowd."
Ren stared at him in silence. "…You said that out loud."
Sun winced, pulling his sunglasses down to rub his eyes. "Yeah. I know."
Ren exhaled through his nose, calm but weary. "I hate this plan."
"Yeah," Sun muttered, folding his arms. "Me too."
"Morning," Jaune mumbled as he and Neptune trudged up the street. Both looked like they'd barely survived the night: Jaune with his hair sticking in every direction and dark circles under his eyes, Neptune with one cuff still dangling from his wrist like some bizarre accessory.
Ren inclined his head politely. "You look worse than I do."
"Thanks," Jaune muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "I barricaded myself in my room all night. Slept on the floor. My spine hates me."
Neptune jingled the broken cuff with a humorless smirk. "At least you could move. I handcuffed myself to the couch. Do you know how terrifying it is to wake up every creak thinking Weiss is standing over you?"
Sun chuckled nervously, still scanning the street like a hunted man. "Yeah, well, at least your girlfriends aren't prowling the city right now planning your demise." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "Come on. Inside. Less chance of being spotted."
The others exchanged tired looks, but followed as Sun ushered them through the café doors.
Inside, the warm scent of coffee and baked bread filled the air. It should have been comforting, but the Brotherhood of Not Whipped Huntsmen carried themselves like men slipping behind enemy lines. They claimed a booth in the corner, shoulders hunched, voices low.
"Alright," Sun said, pushing his sunglasses up as he glanced from face to face. "Operation: Un-Whip… day two. Time for damage reports."
A sharp knock rattled Ruby awake. She blinked blearily, lifting her head off her folded arms on the kitchen table. A string of drool clung stubbornly to her cheek, and she swiped it away with the back of her sleeve, groaning.
Another knock.
"C-Coming!" she croaked, stumbling to her feet. Her legs felt like lead, her hair a mess of tangled curls. She dragged herself to the front door, yanking it open.
Weiss stood there, looking far too put-together for the early hour. She brushed past Ruby without so much as a greeting, her heels clicking against the floor.
Ruby blinked, rubbing her eyes. "Uh… good morning to you too, Weiss."
"We'll see if it's a good morning or not," Weiss said briskly, her tone sharp as she set her bag down on the counter. "Is Neptune here?"
Ruby yawned, scratching her head. "Nope. Just me and Jaune."
Weiss crossed her arms, clearly displeased. "I see. I didn't sleep well last night. Neptune never came to bed when I told him to. Absolutely ridiculous behavior."
Ruby's brows furrowed as she leaned against the doorframe. "Huh. Weird."
But then, as Weiss continued to fume, Ruby's gaze drifted down the hall.
Her breath caught.
The barricaded bedroom door—no longer barricaded. The chair and nightstand gone, and the door itself slightly ajar.
Ruby blinked, realization dawning as her lips pressed into a thin line.
"…He escaped," she muttered.
Ruby's muttering was quiet, but Weiss's ears were sharp. She froze mid-rant, eyes narrowing. "Excuse me—'escaped?'"
Ruby's pout deepened. "Yeah." She stomped past Weiss, bare feet smacking against the floor, and shoved the bedroom door fully open. The room was empty. The barricade was dismantled. No Jaune in sight.
Ruby's shoulders slumped, and she puffed out her cheeks in frustration. "See? He's gone! Snuck right out when I wasn't looking."
Weiss followed, arms crossed, her expression unimpressed. "And why, pray tell, would he feel the need to sneak out of his own home?"
Ruby rubbed the back of her neck, cheeks pink as she mumbled, "...Well, we might've had a little… argument."
Weiss arched an elegant brow. "Argument?"
Ruby shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I, uh… kinda told him he had to bring me a nice treat in the morning if he wanted forgiveness. And when he said no, I may have… threatened to, y'know, dump milk on him amongst other things. Again."
Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. "Ruby Rose. Must we revisit this milk incident so frequently?"
Ruby pouted harder, folding her arms. "Hey, it works!"
"Clearly, it doesn't," Weiss snapped, then paused. Her expression softened into something more thoughtful, calculating. She tapped her chin. "Wait… Neptune and Jaune were resistant yesterday?"
Ruby blinked. "Wait—you're right."
"Yeah…" Weiss said firmly, her voice dropping. "Two sudden streaks of defiance from the most easily led men I know? Something is going on."
Ruby tilted her head, brows knitting. "...Like what?"
Weiss's eyes narrowed, sharp as glass. "I don't know. But I intend to find out."
She pulled her scroll free with a practiced flick, the glass screen catching the morning light.
Ruby blinked. "Uh… what're you doing?"
"Enlisting backup," Weiss said coolly, thumbs already gliding across the screen. "If something is happening, the others need to know."
Ruby's eyes widened. "Wait, you mean—"
Weiss cut her off with a sharp glance, then focused back on her scroll.
[WEISS]: Blake. Nora. Report. Have your boyfriends acted strangely in the last twenty-four hours?
A moment later, she sent another follow-up before either could respond.
[WEISS]: Correction—have they acted more strangely than usual? This may be important.
Ruby leaned in, peering at the messages nervously. "Uh… are we sure this is necessary? I mean, it's not like they're scheming or anything."
Weiss arched a brow at her. "Jaune barricaded himself inside his own bedroom because you threatened him with dairy. I'd call that suspicious."
Ruby pouted, cheeks pink. "…That's not suspicious, that's just… us."
Weiss sighed, shaking her head. "We'll see what the others say."
The Brotherhood sat huddled in their corner booth, mugs of coffee and tea barely touched. All four looked worn out in their own ways—Jaune's hair still a disaster, Neptune nervously jingling his cuff, Sun jittering as he glanced between his scroll and the café window, and Ren calmly finishing his account.
"…and eventually," Ren said, stirring his tea with measured precision, "I managed to get her to swallow a single piece of broccoli before she passed out."
There was a long silence.
Neptune blinked. "…Still sounds like you choked her out, bro."
Ren took a slow sip. "She's alive. That's all that matters."
Jaune rubbed his temples. "We're all alive. Barely."
Sun straightened, slapping his palm down on a napkin where he'd been scribbling notes like a battlefield strategist. "Okay! Let's recap, gentlemen." He pointed his pen dramatically at each of them in turn.
"Jaune—barricaded himself in his own bedroom, lost an entire night's sleep, and almost died of dairy warfare."
Jaune groaned, sinking lower into his seat. "Why do you have to say it like that?"
Sun ignored him, tapping the pen against Neptune next. "Neptune—defied Weiss, survived the night, but spent it handcuffed to a couch like a criminal."
Neptune held up the dangling cuff and shook it weakly. "Still can't find the key."
Ren arched a brow. "Pathetic."
"Moving on," Sun said quickly. He jabbed the pen at Ren. "Ren—entered full combat with Nora, ended with scratches, bruises, and one vegetable technically consumed. Calling that a draw."
Ren sighed. "I call it suffering."
"And finally—me." Sun puffed out his chest, scribbling down the last note. "Sun Wukong, boldest of the Brotherhood, infiltrated Blake's scroll and disabled her alarm. Victory: achieved."
Jaune gave him a look. "She's gonna kill you when she finds out."
Sun smirked, waving the pen. "Not if we stick to the plan."
He finished scribbling, underlined something three times, then leaned back with a grin far too confident for a man on the verge of doom. "Alright, boys. Phase One was… let's call it 'tactically inconclusive.' But fear not. It's time we initiate…" He slapped the napkin like it was classified intel. "Plan B."
Neptune leaned forward, brow furrowed. "Plan B? You mean the strategic retreat?"
Sun grinned, nodding. "Exactly. We shower them with affection. Do everything they want. Act like the most whipped boyfriends in the history of Remnant." He jabbed the pen into the napkin. "We go so over the top with it, they'll never suspect what's really going on."
Ren arched a brow. "Reverse psychology?"
"Reverse psychology," Sun confirmed, his grin widening. "Once the heat dies down, once they think they've got us firmly on the leash—that's when we launch Plan C."
Jaune slouched in his seat, rubbing his temples. "Which is?"
"Independence!" Sun said triumphantly. "True freedom! Plan C is the counterstrike. They'll never see it coming."
Neptune frowned, skeptical. "So Plan B is… being whipped on purpose?"
"Exactly," Sun said, smirking as if he'd solved the universe. "Sometimes the best way to win is to make 'em think they've already won."
Ren stared at him for a long moment. "…This is going to backfire spectacularly."
Jaune sighed, lifting his mug. "Yeah. But at this point? I'm too tired not to try."
Sun leaned forward, lowering his voice like a commander outlining a covert op. "Okay, but here's the catch: if we all suddenly crank the affection dial to maximum at the same time, they might get suspicious."
Jaune's head thunked against the table. "Might? Weiss could smell that from a mile away."
Neptune raised a hand. "So what's our excuse when they press us on it?"
Ren sipped his tea calmly. "The truth. That this is a terrible idea."
"Denied," Sun said instantly. "We need a cover story. Something consistent, believable, and bulletproof."
Jaune groaned. "You realize that's impossible, right?"
Neptune twirled the cuff still dangling from his wrist, frowning. "We could say… training exercises? Like, we're focusing on team morale, and you guys know how girls are—they love when we're all motivated and united."
Ren gave him a flat look. "So our excuse for being suspiciously affectionate is that we're… training?"
"Exactly!" Neptune said, snapping his fingers. "Team-building exercises. Builds unity, builds positivity, builds, uh… affection!"
Sun grinned. "I like it. Makes us sound smart and responsible."
Jaune squinted at him. "Responsible boyfriends don't usually need cover stories."
Sun waved that off. "Details, details. So, if they ask why we're all suddenly whipped, we say it's part of a new training regimen." He tapped the napkin triumphantly. "Gentlemen, we've got our alibi."
Ren set his cup down with a heavy sigh. "I hate this plan."
Before any of them could speak further, the faint squeak of a mop bucket rolled across the café floor. The janitor shuffled past their booth, his cap pulled low, his expression dark as he glanced their way.
His eyes lingered just long enough to make the memory sting—the memory of four huntsmen being chased out of his storage closet only a night ago.
Jaune shrank slightly into his seat. Neptune fiddled with his cuff. Ren sipped his tea like nothing was happening.
The janitor's brow furrowed, his stare sharp.
The four of them, almost in unison, straightened in their seats and locked eyes back on him, meeting his glare head-on. Not a word spoken, but the silent declaration was clear: they would not be cowed.
After a beat, the janitor huffed, muttered something about "idiots," and pushed his mop bucket toward the back.
Sun leaned back with a grin, slapping the table. "See? Already working as a unit. Brotherhood solidarity."
Neptune rolled his eyes. "You're comparing us glaring at a janitor to battle tactics."
"Hey," Sun said, wagging his pen, "victory comes in many forms. And that, gentlemen, was one of them."
Ren murmured into his tea. "You're insufferable."
Jaune sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "And doomed. Don't forget doomed."
Blake sat at the kitchen table, still fuming as she stacked her old books into a neat pile. Her scroll buzzed against the wood, pulling her attention.
[WEISS]: Blake. Nora. Report. Have your boyfriends acted strangely in the last twenty-four hours?
She blinked, ears twitching. Before she could answer, a follow-up pinged.
[WEISS]: Correction—have they acted more strangely than usual? This may be important.
Blake's lips pressed into a thin line. Slowly, her ears flicked. She typed back.
[BLAKE]: He turned off my alarm. New bookstore's release day and I missed the window. He's hiding something.
Meanwhile, across town, Nora sprawled on her bed in Ren's hoodie, nibbling cold pancakes as her scroll lit up. She squinted at Weiss's message, then burst into laughter.
[NORA]: Ren tried to force feed me veggies. It was war. I nearly won. He looked so serious, though… like it was part of some plan.
Within seconds, Weiss's response flashed back.
[WEISS]: Exactly. That's two of them acting abnormally. Neptune refused to come to bed when I told him, and Ruby just informed me Jaune "escaped." Something is happening.
Blake leaned back, her suspicion deepening. "A coordinated something."
Ruby, still pouting with her arms crossed, peeked at Weiss's scroll. "Wait—you don't think…"
Weiss's eyes gleamed, sharp and cold. "Oh, I do. They're up to something. And I intend to find out what."
Blake sighed, gathering her stack of books. "I'm already certain Sun's behind this."
Nora stuffed another pancake bite into her mouth and grinned. "Ooooh, so this is like a counterattack, huh? Operation: Get 'Em First?"
Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated, though the faintest smirk tugged her lips. "Not exactly what I'd call it, but yes. If the boys want war, then we'll give them war."
Weiss set her scroll on the coffee table and tapped a few buttons. Within moments, three more faces popped up on-screen: Blake seated neatly at her desk with a mountain of books behind her, Nora sprawled upside down on her bed in Ren's hoodie, and Ruby perched cross-legged on her couch, Crescent Rose leaning casually against the wall in the background while only a few feet away from Weiss herself.
"Good," Weiss said crisply. "Now that we're all here, let's discuss the matter at hand."
Nora waved cheerfully, pancake still stuffed in her mouth. "Operation: Get 'Em First!" she mumbled through the bite.
Weiss pressed her fingers to her temple. "That is not what we're calling this."
Ruby leaned closer to the camera, pout still firmly in place. "But seriously, Weiss… do you really think they're, like, scheming? I mean, Jaune's not exactly the scheming type. He can't even play cards without showing his hand."
"Exactly," Weiss shot back, eyes narrowing. "That's why this is so concerning. Jaune's not a liar, Ren doesn't waste energy, Sun is too scatterbrained, and Neptune—well, Neptune wouldn't dream of defying me." Her jaw tightened. "And yet all four are suddenly acting against type. Which means…"
"…They're plotting," Blake finished softly, her voice calm but her ears flicking with irritation.
Ruby's expression fell. "So… what do we do?"
Nora sat upright, her grin wide. "Easy! We go full counterstrike! Each of us, one on one, on our own turf. Let's see how long they last."
Weiss considered it, then gave a small nod. "For once, Nora's chaotic energy has merit. If they're planning something together, the most effective counter is to divide and conquer. Each of us will address our respective… culprits individually."
Ruby sighed, curling into her knees. "So it's just me versus Jaune?"
Blake's golden eyes glinted as she stacked her books. "Me versus Sun."
Nora pumped her fist. "Me versus Ren."
"And, naturally, me versus Neptune," Weiss finished. She adjusted her hair, regal as ever. "Let them think they have the upper hand. We'll strike when they least expect it."
The four nodded together, the call ending with grim determination.
The café had emptied out some, the morning rush passing into memory. Sun, Ren, Neptune, and Jaune sat in the booth with their drinks finally half-finished. The table was cluttered with napkins, crumbs, and Sun's scribbled "battle plans."
But there was no more talk of glory or independence. Each of them was lost in thought, clutching their chosen "weapons."
Sun leaned back, flipping a small envelope between his fingers. A bright gift card to Blake's favorite bookstore. His grin was faint but resolute.
"Got us a private slot in the new reading room," he said, more to himself than to anyone else. "She can bury me in novels for a whole afternoon if she wants. I'll even read one out loud if it gets me off the hook."
His tail flicked once, betraying nerves. He shoved the card back into his pocket with a sigh. "That'll prove I'm whipped enough to be innocent."
Ren sat upright, posture perfect, a small shopping bag at his side. From it protruded the ear of a massive gummy bear, its plastic wrapping gleaming in the sunlight. He regarded it like one might regard a live grenade.
"…She's wanted one of these for months," he said flatly. "I also stocked up on every possible stir-fry ingredient. Tonight, whatever she asks, I'll make it."
A pause. Then, with a weary exhale, "I will endure."
Neptune tapped his cuff absently against the edge of the booth, his other hand resting on a bag of clinking glass bottles. He pulled one out briefly: massage oil, the label floral and faintly ridiculous. Beneath it in the bag, a couple of lavender candles rolled around.
"She likes the princess treatment," he muttered, tossing the bottle back inside. "So, fine. Princess treatment it is. Candles, oils, the whole nine yards. Weiss won't question a thing if I play doting boyfriend."
For a moment, he almost smiled at the thought—then quickly shook it off, nerves creeping back in.
Jaune was the most disheveled of the four. A small stack of bakery boxes was piled beside him on the seat, each tied with twine from a different shop. Nestled between them was a new sharpening kit, Crescent Rose's logo still faintly imprinted on the packaging.
"I hit four bakeries," he muttered, staring at the stack like it might devour him first. "Cakes, cookies, cream puffs, even those jelly-filled things Ruby likes. And… this." He patted the sharpening kit with a shaky smile. "If she doesn't forgive me after this, I'm done for."
He sagged back into the booth, rubbing his eyes. "Completely done for."
The four sat together in silence for a long moment, each surrounded by their offerings. They looked less like warriors and more like men about to surrender their kingdoms.
Sun finally broke the quiet with a shaky grin. "See? We've all got our strategies. Plan B is airtight."
Neptune chuckled humorlessly. "Airtight… or life-ending."
Ren sipped his tea. "I still hate this plan."
Jaune stared at the boxes, jaw tight. "…I hope this works."
The sun was already high by the time Jaune trudged up the stairs, bakery boxes stacked precariously in his arms. The sharpening kit pressed awkwardly against his ribs, slipping with every other step. By the time he reached his door, his shoulders ached, and his nerves were frayed.
He paused outside the apartment, staring at the handle like it might bite him. His reflection in the polished knob looked pale, tired, and altogether doomed.
"…Alright," he muttered under his breath. "This is it. Plan B. Strategic retreat. I'm whipped, I'm devoted, I'm innocent. She'll never suspect a thing."
Balancing the boxes against his knee, he fumbled the door open and stepped inside.
The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.
Ruby wasn't at the table this time. No sparks flew from the "workshop" kitchen. No humming, no clattering tools. Just the still air of an empty home.
Jaune's boots scraped softly against the floor as he carried his peace offerings inside. He set them carefully on the counter, adjusting them so the twine bows looked neat. The sharpening kit, he placed front and center, the "crown jewel" of his surrender.
Then he leaned on the counter, exhaling slowly.
"…Ruby?" he called out, cautious. "You home?"
Silence.
His stomach twisted. She's plotting something. I know it. She's plotting.
Jaune ran a hand through his hair and muttered, "Oh Brothers, this is gonna blow up in my face…"
Jaune's pulse quickened as the silence stretched. The apartment felt heavier somehow, like the air itself was waiting to pounce. He swallowed hard, turning slowly—
Click.
The overhead light flared on, blinding after the dimness.
Ruby stood in the corner, half-shrouded by shadow, her silver eyes glowing beneath the tangle of her bangs. A wrench gleamed faintly in her hand as she stepped forward, every inch the Huntress ready to strike.
Jaune yelped, stumbling back against the counter. "R-Ruby! I—I wasn't sneaking, I swear—!"
She narrowed her eyes, voice low and ominous. "Funny… looks a lot like sneaking to me."
Panic seized him. In one frantic motion, Jaune dropped to his knees, sliding the bakery boxes and sharpening kit forward like sacred offerings. His arms shot up in surrender, head bowed low.
"Forgive me!" he blurted. "I went to four different bakeries! FOUR! Cream puffs, cakes, cookies—you name it, I got it! And I bought you a new sharpening kit! Please don't hurt me! Or cover me in milk!"
Ruby blinked, her serious façade cracking at the sheer desperation in his voice. The wrench dipped, her lips twitching.
"…Four bakeries?" she repeated softly.
Jaune nodded furiously, still kneeling. "Every single one on the east side of Vale! I—I'm sorry for everything! I wasn't acting myself yesterday!"
For a long beat, Ruby stared down at him in silence. Then her shoulders shook—once, twice—before she broke into a laugh.
Jaune's head shot up, confused. "…You're laughing? Is that good?"
Ruby smirked, stepping closer and crouching down so her face hovered inches from his. Her voice dropped, playful and sharp all at once. "It's adorable."
Ruby plucked the top box from his stack and opened it right there on the floor. Inside, delicate cream puffs gleamed under a dusting of powdered sugar. She took one, bit into it, and hummed happily as she chewed.
Jaune blinked, still frozen on his knees. "…So… does this mean… I'm forgiven?"
Ruby licked a bit of cream from her lip and smiled down at him. "Mhm. You're forgiven."
The wrench clattered to the counter as she set it aside, scooped up the sharpening kit, and held it like a prize. "And this? Perfect." She leaned forward to kiss his forehead lightly. "Good boyfriend."
Jaune's shoulders sagged with relief, his whole body slumping against the counter. "Oh thank the Brothers… Plan B actually worked…"
Ruby tilted her head. "Plan B?"
Jaune stiffened, eyes wide. "Uh—I mean, plan… B for… bakery! Yeah. Bakery run. Totally planned it."
Ruby giggled, not pressing the point. She stood and gathered the rest of the boxes, humming as she carried them toward the kitchen.
Jaune exhaled in triumph, a shaky grin spreading across his face. "I won," he whispered to himself, pumping a fist weakly. "I actually won." (see: "won" as "survived")
Sun whistled casually as he bounded up the steps to his and Blake's apartment, tail swishing in rhythm with the tune. His hand toyed with the gift card in his pocket like it was a badge of honor, his grin wide despite the lingering unease in his gut.
He pushed open the door, calling out brightly, "Honey, I'm home!"
The apartment was quiet, save for the faint creak of a chair. Blake was seated at the table, her hair perfectly straight despite having just woken, golden eyes locked on him. A neat stack of old books sat beside her, a silent accusation.
Sun froze mid-step, his grin faltering. "…Hey, babe."
Her ears flicked once, sharp. "The bookstore. New release day. I missed it."
Sun swallowed, still fumbling for charm. "Y-Yeah, funny story about that—" He pulled the card from his pocket like a magician revealing his ace. "Surprise! I, uh, got us a private slot tomorrow in the new reading room. Just you, me, and… well, a mountain of books."
Blake's eyes narrowed, studying him. He held the card out like a shield, his smile strained.
After a long beat, she plucked it from his hand, examining the embossed logo. Then, slowly, her lips curved into the faintest smile. "…Private session?"
Sun's grin returned full force. "Yup! All the books you want. I'll even, uh… read out loud if you want."
Blake set the card down neatly, then stood, brushing past him with a faint swish of her ears. "You're lucky," she murmured, heading toward her room. "That's exactly the sort of peace offering I needed."
Sun stood frozen in the doorway, relief washing over him in waves. He pumped both fists silently, whispering, "Still got it, Sun Wukong!"
Neptune juggled a paper bag in one hand and his keys in the other as he slipped quietly back into the apartment he shared with Weiss. The faint scent of lavender candles wafted from the bag, mixing with the subtle clink of glass bottles inside. He shut the door softly, as though minimizing sound might somehow minimize his guilt.
The living room was pristine, as always, everything in its proper place. Weiss was seated on the sofa, a book open on her lap. She glanced up the instant he entered, her icy blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
"You're late," she said coolly, closing the book with a sharp snap.
Neptune forced a casual smile. "Had some errands. You know, guy stuff. Important… errands."
Weiss arched a brow, gaze flicking briefly to the faint cuff still dangling from his wrist. "Errands."
"Y-Yeah," he stammered, shifting the bag behind his leg. "Just errands."
There was a pause. Then, in a desperate flourish, Neptune set the bag down on the coffee table and revealed its contents: massage oil, candles, and a few small jars of lotion lined up like sacred relics.
Weiss's expression didn't change. "…What is this?"
"Princess treatment," Neptune said, straightening his collar like a man declaring war. "You've been stressed, Weiss. You deserve to relax. So tonight, I'll handle everything. Candles, massages, whatever you want."
Her eyes lingered on him, cold and sharp as glass. He resisted the urge to shrink under her gaze, forcing his confident smirk to hold.
At last, Weiss reached into the bag, lifting one of the candles. She turned it over in her hands, studying the label. Then she set it down and gave the faintest nod.
"…Acceptable," she said at last.
Neptune exhaled so hard he nearly deflated, flopping onto the couch beside her with a grin. "Knew you'd love it." He glanced at the cuff still jingling from his wrist, then muttered, "…Hey, uh, random question. You wouldn't happen to know where the key for this thing is, would you?"
Weiss didn't even glance up from her book. "No. And frankly, you deserve to wear it."
Neptune groaned, slumping deeper into the cushions, the cuff clinking against the frame. "…Still counts as a win," he mumbled to himself.
"Quit mumbling and start on these shoulders, good-looking."
Ren stood outside his apartment door, grocery bag in one hand and an absurdly large, plastic-wrapped gummy bear in the other. He took a long, steadying breath before stepping inside.
The air smelled faintly of burnt sugar. Not a promising sign.
Inside, Nora was sprawled across the couch in Ren's hoodie, flipping idly through channels with the energy of someone who had already decided chaos was tomorrow's problem. Her legs kicked lazily in the air as she glanced over at him.
"Ren!" she chirped, beaming. "You lived!"
Ren set the bag gently on the counter, his voice calm but firm. "I brought… a gift."
Her eyes lit up the instant he hefted the gummy bear into view. It was nearly half her size, its rubbery red face staring soullessly through the wrapper.
Nora gasped like he'd produced a legendary relic. "Ren! It's beautiful!"
Ren allowed himself a small smile as he set it down. "And tonight, I'll cook whatever you want. No arguments. No vegetables unless you ask for them."
Nora dropped the remote, bouncing up from the couch to tackle him in a hug. "Best boyfriend ever!" she squealed, squeezing him tight. "You've finally learned the way to Nora's heart!"
Ren let out a quiet breath of relief, arms wrapping around her in return. "…So Plan B does work," he muttered under his breath.
"What?" Nora asked, looking up with wide eyes.
"Nothing," Ren said smoothly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Just… glad you're happy."
Nora giggled, already dragging the gummy bear toward the couch like she was adopting a pet. "Happy? Ren, this is war-winning happy!"
Ren just sighed softly, returning to the kitchen. "I still hate this plan."
Hours later, the apartment was quiet save for the steady rhythm of Ruby's breathing. She lay curled against Jaune's chest, one arm draped lazily over him, completely content after devouring half of his bakery spoils.
Jaune stared up at the ceiling in the dim light, his hand resting lightly on Ruby's shoulder. His body still hummed with tension, but slowly—carefully—it began to ease.
"…It worked," he whispered to himself, barely audible. "Plan B actually worked."
He let out a long sigh, the kind that carried both exhaustion and disbelief. Ruby shifted in her sleep but didn't stir, nestling closer against him.
Jaune's lips quirked in a tired smile. For the first time since this whole "operation" began, he wasn't staring down sparks, wrenches, or the looming threat of dairy warfare.
His thoughts drifted. Did they even need a Plan C? Sun's speeches about "independence" and "counterattacks" suddenly felt distant. Maybe… maybe it was enough to accept this role. To take the easy path. The whipped path. Maybe the Arc cycle of men just didn't need to be broken?
"…At least it's a life with less dairy," he murmured, chuckling weakly.
Jaune's eyes had just started to flutter shut when the faint buzz-buzz of his scroll lit up the nightstand. He winced, carefully sliding it into his hand so he wouldn't wake Ruby.
The Brotherhood group chat blinked across the screen.
[SUN]: Status check. Report in, brothers.
[SUN]: I repeat, Plan B success stories only.
Jaune sighed, thumb hovering.
[NEPTUNE]: Princess treatment delivered. She bought it. I live another day.
[REN]: Gummy bear and dinner plan effective. Temporary peace achieved. Still hate this plan.
[JAUNE]: Bakery tour sharpening kit. Worked. She's… happy.
For a moment the thread went quiet. Then Sun's triumphant reply popped up:
[SUN]: See? I told you. Plan B is airtight. We now have DATA, gentlemen. Cold, hard data on how to get out of the dog house in the future.
Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling softly. "The fact that he's right about buying our freedom in the future for any arguments actually makes me mad."
[SUN]: Lay low for a few days. Keep acting whipped. Then… Plan C. The counterstrike.
Jaune stared at the words for a long moment, Ruby's warmth pressed against him. He locked the scroll, setting it back on the nightstand with a heavy sigh.
"…Why do I have to be so damn loyal?" he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.
Ruby stirred slightly, nuzzling closer into his chest, and Jaune let out another resigned groan. Sleep finally claimed him—but not without the weight of knowing Plan C loomed just ahead.