Homeless Bunny 21 (Patreon)

Homeless Bunny 21

Tianyu Yue

In the end, making sure the bottles of panacea weren’t wasted was as simple as a text message to Ozpin. The man had a ridiculous amount of pull in the city and having them be taken from evidence to a secure hospital was a simple matter.

I was still a domestic terrorist though. Apparently, there wasn’t much he could do about the court of public opinion.

I put my questionable criminal status out of mind in favor of staring down my adorable minions. “Right, are you ready for our first team training session?”

“Yay…” Melanie cheered unenthusiastically. “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?”

“Obviously. It’s Tianyu. Of course this is going to hurt,” Miltiades sighed, already resigned to suffering in the name of progress.

“Ugh, this team should come with hazard pay.”

“Totes.”

“Quit whining, you two,” I chided. I pulled out an old, weathered scroll. Or, it looked old anyway; Laura may have spilled coffee on it when she first read it. “I even have a super secret foot technique I developed personally for rookies.”

“A foot technique? Like kicks? That’s only helpful for Melanie,” Miltia pointed out.

“No, not kicks. This one’s a movement technique. In fact, it’s the most basic movement technique that eventually graduates to my personal martial art, the Lunar Revel.”

“Really? So learning it will mean we’ll be as strong as you one day?”

“Nope, I’m a Campione. I’m… kind of a freak of nature. Actually, now that you mention it, having received help from the Peach Blossom Alchemy might preclude you from ever becoming a Campione… Not sure what mom would say about that to be honest. But as strong as Laura? Sure.”

“We have no idea who that is, bun-bun.”

“Laura Kinney, my first apprentice and the sous chef of the Lunar Palace. She used to be a part of an old project to create supersoldiers, escaped, and ran into me. Long story short, she’s basically immortal now and inherited Baihu’s spirit.”

“What’s a Baihu? You know you explaining things only leaves us with more questions, right?”

I sighed. She had a point. They had no frame of reference for any of this. “Laura’s a catgirl now. Well, White Tiger of the West, but close enough.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry about it. Back to the foot technique. My wife, Luo Hao, finally accepted that I’m a martial master in my own right when I created the Lunar Revel. I mean, she still hands me my ass, but you know, Luo Hao. She told me that now that I had my own martial art, I should create some guidebooks for any future acolytes I might have. This is one of them.”

“Cool, lay it on us, bun-bun.” I tossed her the scroll. She glanced at it and coughed. “‘Moon Bunny’s Hippest Hops: The idiot’s guide to bunny hopping?’ You’re fucking with us.”

“Mil, he named our team after food. What were you expecting?” Melanie said, exasperated.

“Yeah… I don’t know about this one.”

“And there was the Moon Bunny Combat Arts or whatever. Rabbit Eating Hawk or something?”

“Hawk Eating Rabbit,” I corrected, trying not to giggle. It was always fun watching people react to the stupid names I gave my techniques. “And I’ll have you know, bunny hopping is a time-honored tradition. It greatly improves your dexterity, sense of balance, and leg strength, all while providing a full body workout.”

“Tianyu, we have aura. We’re not going to get tired because we do some calisthenics.”

“Which is why you get to work out in increased gravity.”

“What?”

With a shit-eating grin, I tapped the ground beneath me. The golden sigil that marked my “Semblance” bloomed beneath our feet, before turning a deep indigo hue. I was of the moon, and the moon had historically been associated with several concepts: purification, illumination of secrets, the ocean, and of course, gravity.

Three pairs of knees hit the ground with dull thuds as the pull of the world spiked steeply. It wasn’t my most powerful domain, but providing a good training area was well within my abilities. After all, what could be lightened could also be reversed.

“Read the scroll,” I told them. “You’ll have to get used to moving. I expect proper form from you three.”

That made Amber look at me with betrayal. “Wait, me too? I’m a mage, you know. I can skip this, right?”

“Nope. Good physical conditioning is the basis of any decent mage-knight.”

“I’m not a mage-knight!”

“Yet.”

X

The cafeteria was filled with the rich aroma of my tamales. I’d come to an agreement with Chef Orion. So long as I shared the recipe with him, he agreed that I could take over lunch preparations today. Finally, the great injustice my team suffered at the hands of ignorance would be corrected today.

“‘What’s a tamale?’” I muttered under my breath. “Fucking unbelievable. Stupid backwards-ass society. Stupid ignoramus kid.”

“You’re really offended by that, huh, fluffy?” Melanie asked.

“Yes! No! It’s the principle of the matter. That stupid comment is symptomatic is what it is. It’s proof that Remnant is a culinary desert and it’s my divine right and duty to correct it.”

“Sure, fine, you’re a chef. We get it. Just one question.”

“What?”

“Why are we serving lunch?”

“Because I’m your team leader and we, as Team Tamale, must enlighten the uncultured masses.”

The girls rolled their eyes in synchronicity. Even Amber, the mildest of them. Traitor.

Then again, their bodies were still trembling from the workout so perhaps a bit of misplaced resentment was forgivable.

Truly, I was a most gracious and forgiving bunny.

“I’ve made three different fillings,” I told them, pointing out each enormous steamer basket. Any one of them could have fit a small child, or me, curled up. “Now, traditionally, they were filled with any kind of meat the native peoples could get their hands on. Turkey, fish, frog, gopher-”

“You’re kidding. These aren’t actually filled with frog, are they?” Militia asked, nose turned up.

“No, but frog really isn’t that bad. Tastes just like chicken, which is what that one is filled with.”

“Tianyu, that isn’t very reassuring, you know. Are you sure it’s chicken?”

“I don’t know. It went ‘ribbit’ but flapped around,” I said sarcastically. “Of course it’s chicken. The one Mel’s holding has pork in it. Amber’s also has pork, but also with butterfish and chicken because I couldn’t get my mind off Hawaiian lau lau while making this. It’s pretty experimental, but I think it should be fine.”

“Pork… fish… and chicken… in one package?”

“Yup. It’s pretty good, though traditional lau lau is cooked in taro leaves and I had to Macgyver a spice mix to better fit the corn dough. Save one of each for yourselves because I made plenty.”

“Ehh, at least it gets us out of class,” Miltia mused as she grabbed three tamales for herself.

Amber frowned. “Not that I’m complaining, but how does this get us out of class? We’re still technically students, right?”

“You’re right,” I nodded.

“And?”

“And I am a Campione. Ergo, your argument is invalid.”

“You bullied Ozpin, didn’t you?”

“I did no such thing.”

“I don’t buy it.”

“Same,” the twins chorused. The girls really were starting to mesh well, at least when it came to doubting their glorious leader.

“I bribed him with coffee,” I told them. Really, what kind of uncultured musclehead did they think I was?

“Oh, never mind. That I believe.”

Then the students came in for lunch. There were a few raised eyebrows at seeing our team behind the counter, but no one asked too many questions. The twins and Amber, mostly Amber, were able to explain the dish to people who asked.

Then, I saw the boy who’d dare interrupt my team naming ceremony. Faster than the eye could see, I plated three tamales and blurred into his path.

“Here. Sit. Eat. Educate yourself.”

“Huh?” he blinked owlishly. His name was Pierre or something, the “P” in SPHR, sapphire to go with ruby.

“This is a tamale,” I said, pushing the plate into his hand insistently.

“Wait, did you seriously hijack the kitchen just to make me food?”

“No, of course not. Chef Orion and I have an understanding. And I didn’t take over the kitchen to make you food,” I huffed. “I took over the kitchen to educate you.”

“Alright, alright, geez. I’ll take your silly cake-thing.”

“Tamales,” I growled, a hint of my divine aura seeping out into the world

“Geez, holy shit, fine! Tamales!”

“That is one angry bunny,” his teammate whispered to him as I blurred away.

“Fast too. Hey, at least we get an interesting lunch out of it,” another said.

He and his team sat down at their table with a weirded out expression. Then the aroma of my food fully registered and they were compelled to take a bite.

The cafeteria sounded like a brothel. There was no other way to put it. It was like Vale’s entire porn industry showed up to reenact one of Melanie’s trashy YA novels, loud, exaggerated, orgasmic moans and all.

I stood by my team and the regular cafeteria staff as we watched the Beacon student body have the closest thing to a religious experience possible in this literally gods-forsaken world.

“I-Is this normal?” Chef Orion asked, utterly bewildered by the sight before him.

“Shamefully, yes,” Amber replied with a defeated sigh.

I shrugged in a “What can you do?” gesture. “At least no one’s naked.”

“Is that an actual worry? Because, might I remind you, this is a school.”

“Probably not. I think the Nakiri family’s just fucked up like that. Are you going to eat? We’ve finished serving everyone so it’s time for lunch,” I said, tugging Amber and Mil by the hand towards an empty table. Melanie followed along, with our drinks in hand.

“R-Right, I’ll go serve the leftovers to the Beacon staff,” Chef Orion said, eyeing the food with equal parts dread and relish. Then he mumbled under his breath, “And eat this somewhere private…”

I munched my tamale as the symphony of delighted groaning echoed around us. My own teammates were not exempt either.

Food is life. Cooking is art. Cuisine is history. That was and is my motto. And today, I made Remnant history.

Life was good.

X

I didn’t know what to expect from Professor Goodwitch’s combat class. How was it structured? Was it primarily outdoor activities and killing grim? That was the core mission of all huntsmen, right? Or would the class be like a military boot camp, with a set self-defense style beaten into each student in case they lost their favored weapon?

I walked in and saw the room. It was arranged like a college lecture hall, save for the central pit which had been replaced by an arena.

‘How disappointing,’ I thought. As a rule, sparring against humans was most useful to teach someone to… fight humans… If the grim were the existential threats everyone made them out to be, a class layout like this felt suboptimal.

But then again, what did I know? It wasn’t as if I’d ever taught a class. Or at least, not one that wasn’t about food in some way. Perhaps the curriculum would shift over time as students became accustomed to one another.

I led TAMM to the lower benches; if I had to sit through a bunch of kids squabbling, I at least wanted ringside seats. Behind us sat VALN, with RWBY to our immediate right.

“Where did you learn to cook like that?” my “sister” asked as she took a seat next to me.

“Oh, here and there. Before I came to Beacon, I was something of a wandering chef,” I said with a smile. “This might come as a surprise, but the best ethnic recipes aren’t found in fancy hotels or restaurants. They usually come from little, old grannies who’ve been making the same dish for fifty years.”

“Yes, I suppose there is truth in that. There is something to be said for tradition and dedicated experience after all. You could easily be a chef, Tianyu.”

“Because I am a chef, big-little sister. I am a chef first, husband second, Campione third, and a huntsman a very distant last.”

“Husband? Y-You’re married?” she squawked, louder than strictly necessary because every eye was on us now.

“Yup. Surprised? You have a sister-in-law you’ve never met before,” I teased. I tapped my finger against the desk, bringing attention to a simple, wooden band.

It was a ring of peachwood grown from my personal garden in the Lunar Palace. Peachwood, to symbolize elemental balance, sanctification, and eternity.

And yet, despite these lofty ideals, the ring itself was completely unadorned. Nor did it have any great enchantment on it save for one to enhance its durability, lest I be tempted to risk it in some trivial battle or contest. Its mere presence served its purpose, as a reminder of mine and Luo Hao’s marriage.

“I see… W-What is her name?”

“Luo Hao, or Luo Cuilan depending on how formal you want to be. She’s also called the Ruler of the Martial Realm, the Eminence of China, and the Master of the Holy Cult of Five Mountains.”

“That’s a rather presumptuous title, don’t you think?”

“Which one?”

“The Ruler of the Martial Realm. I don’t know what a China is, or the Holy Cult of Five Mountains, but I suppose she could be a big deal in her village, wherever that is.”

I laughed. Weiss had no frame of reference for what a Campione was. She’d never heard of China, for obvious reasons, so she thought those titles referred to some podunk village out in the frontier territories. I opted not to correct her. Teaching her about the multiverse could wait for when we weren’t in combat class.

“I suppose it is a pretentious title,” I said with a smile. “The Ruler of the Martial Realm? It’s the kind of title you can only use when you’re the undisputed best at it. So much so that if you claimed to be second best, no one in the world would be brave enough to say they’re first.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Call me biased, but that’s exactly what she is: the undisputed best.”

“You must love her a lot,” she said diplomatically. “You have a really nice smile when you talk about her.”

“Of course I do. She’s great. Beautiful, dedicated, kind, wise, and unexpectedly funny.”

“I-I never knew… D-Do you think she’d like me?” she asked shyly.

I found it amusing that she cared about the opinion of someone who she didn’t even know existed until three seconds ago. And yet, that was Weiss; beneath the prickly exterior, she was an unexpectedly tender girl.

I considered the question. What would my beloved think of me adopting a “little sister?”

Truthfully, she wouldn’t care one bit. She’d probably test her new “junior sister,” only to be immediately disappointed once she found out how mediocre Weiss was at martial arts. Which wasn’t to say Weiss was untalented, but my wife’s standards were… a little unreasonable.

And then she’d take Weiss to her temple for the most grueling year of her life.

“She’d probably try to teach you a thing or two about swordsmanship,” I said honestly. “You know, trade some pointers.”

“Oh? That doesn’t sound bad. I’d be delighted.”

If Yinghua was here, he’d probably burst into tears. The poor girl had no idea what she was promising.

Still…

“Then when we next meet, I’ll tell her you would appreciate a few lessons.”

“I’d like that.”

“Great! It’s settled then. You can earmark a year of your life to training under Luo Hao.”

“A full year? I don’t think I’ll have time for that once I graduate from Beacon.”

“Ehh, just think of it as college. University, but to become a legendary swordsman. Because you will become a legend, assuming you survive the experience.”

“She can’t be that strong or I’d have heard of her,” Weiss sniffed in disbelief.

I said nothing, instead opting to pat her hand reassuringly. Luo Hao likely wouldn’t visit for a while yet. Weiss had time; I would permit this sweet, summer child to maintain her delusions a little longer.

That was as far as we got. The bell rang and Professor Goodwitch swept into the room, her half-cape fluttering behind elegantly.

“Right, good afternoon, class. We’ll begin with a series of duels between students. To make this more interesting, one person will be selected at random. That student may challenge another, or may also request a random opponent. Am I clear?”

When no questions were forthcoming, she opened up a program on her scroll, projected onto the monitor, with the class roster. The names scrolled by and I looked around at my classmates curiously.

For the most part, attitudes were ambivalent; this clearly wasn’t anything new for them. I deemed that duels like this were fairly normal in combat schools. There were a few people who looked nervous however, especially those who glanced towards the redhead, the chameleon-girl’s partner. If I remembered the twins’ briefing right, she was Pyrrha Nikos, a celebrity tournament fighter known for a perfect win streak.

Yang also got some wary looks. She’d apparently ranked at the top of her class at Signal, the local preparatory school. She likely had a reputation for those who were Vale natives.

Students got up to fight as the class wore on. Most were decent enough, better than any normal soldier could hope to be at any rate, but nothing worth writing home about. Weiss beat up some guy called Dove and looked inordinately proud of her showing. Nora, leader of VALN, almost turned Miltia into a pancake.

In fact, neither of the twins did especially well. Not only were they unused to fighting huntsmen, they were also dead tired from my morning training. Melanie lost to some student wielding a flail that I didn’t bother to remember the name of. He was at least a good sport about it and helped her up.

When Glynda called Pyrrha’s name, the entire room fell silent, each wondering if they’d be the one challenged. It was almost as if she was a Campione in her own right. Her reputation as the Invincible Girl cowed everyone in the room, winning the fight for her before her opponent could even be decided.

The look of unmitigated disappointment in her eyes reminded me of a puppy. She’d been looking forward to this, a new school that was a full continent away, perhaps somewhere her reputation wouldn’t stifle her growth.

“Is there anyone you’d like to challenge?” the professor asked with a little pity in her voice. Glynda looked at me, then at Amber, the two who were definitely strong enough, but neither of us moved to volunteer.

Finally, Pyrrha sighed and picked the option that would spare the egos of her peers. “I’d like to duel my partner, please.”

“Very well. Ilia Amitola, up front, please.”

Ilia’s body changed hues, from a bronze tan to a deepening mahogany, then burgundy. I had no idea what those colors meant, but her expression was flat as she reached for her whip.

What followed was what I could only describe as a measured beatdown. Pyrrha was holding back, though not as much as she might have. She left openings I could tell she was fast enough to close, intentionally misplaced her footing to give Ilia the chance to catch her leg with her whip, and performed little flourishes of her weapon every time she swapped forms, taking precious seconds to give Ilia time to prepare herself.

Ilia wasn’t bad by any means, more than good enough to embarrass the twins as they were now. It was obvious that Ilia had real experience in life or death scenarios. She was incredibly agile, bouncing from place to place with an ease that spoke of countless hours of fitness training.

She was also absolutely vicious. She struck at eyes, throat, groin, and whatever other perceived vulnerability to stay in the fight for as long as possible. With how flexible her weapon was, I could see her being a tough contender for most of the students here.

She infused her whip with lightning and vanished into the background, melding seamlessly despite her mobile fighting style. She even managed a few good hits, channeling electricity through her weapon to shock Pyrrha even when she blocked.

And yet, when the battle ended, people treated it as though it was a foregone conclusion. Pyrrha Nikos emerged victorious, shying away from the applause in favor of helping Ilia up.

“I’m sorry,” I heard her whisper. “I didn’t know who else to pick.”

“It’s fine,” Ilia replied. “You’re… strong.”

“W-We could train together?”

“Maybe…” Ilia said skeptically. She likely didn’t have many chances to interact with trustworthy humans in the Fang. Then, her gaze roamed to Blake, the catgirl princess of Menagerie, and she nodded slowly. “You know what? I’d like that.”

Author’s Note

Someone actually paid for a commission of this crack-fic. I'm not upset, I love writing this one, but I didn't expect anyone to think this would be worthwhile. Thanks, you know who you are.

Tianyu is a chef. But Luo Hao is a xianxia protagonist. She’s rubbed off on him a bit.

Lau lau is steamed in a packet of taro leaves and differs from kalua in that it’s not roasted underground. It’s pretty mild in flavor but quite good.

The original quest this is based on was a mega-crossover with Campione as the base, including The Boys, Harry Potter, Worm, My Hero Academia, Overwatch, Marvel, and of course, Shokugeki no Soma. It didn’t get very far (I’ll pick up the quest again someday) so I didn’t get the chance to blend the lore as well as I’d like, but it had a bunch of different characters from these settings.

It’s been a running joke that Mana Nakiri, after tasting his food once, spent several years trying to get Tianyu to marry her daughter.