Where you from?

With a heavy sigh, Guts let go of the doorknob and turned back to Qrow. "Fine. I'll stay, but I want a sword to defend myself with," he said, his voice low and rough.

Qrow nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Okay, that's fair. I can see what I can do. A longsword would be good for you," he said, reaching for his pack.

Guts shook his head, his eyes narrowing. "No, a greatsword," he said, determination and a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.

Qrow raised an eyebrow, a look of skepticism crossing his face. "A greatsword? Kid, I don't think you could lift it," he said, his tone laced with amusement.

Guts squared his shoulders, his sense of pride fueling his determination. "I lifted yours just fine," he said, his voice laced with a hint of defiance.

Qrow's expression softened as he realized the truth in Guts' words. 'He did, even with the aura lock, which is impressive as it doubles the weight, making it less likely to be stolen,' he thought.

"Alright, I'll accept these terms. So long as you stay and tell me your story," Qrow said, his voice laced with a hint of weariness.

Guts shrugged, a sense of resignation settling over him. "Don't expect much. I'm not much of a talker," he said, his voice low and gruff.

As the night wore on, Qrow sat in his room at his desk, talking on his scroll to Ozpin. In the next room, Guts lay on the bed, tense and edged. While Qrow hadn't made any advances toward him, it didn't mean he wouldn't try.

Guts sat up, his ears perking up as he heard Qrow's muffled voice. 'Oz?' he thought to himself as he reached for the Chief's knife he had swiped from the kitchen before going to bed. He quietly made his way to Qrow's room and pushed open the door, his hand gripping the knife's hilt tightly.

As the door opened, Qrow's shoulder visibly tensed as he hunched over his desk, his voice low and urgent. "I'm telling you, Oz, the kid, is just strange," Guts heard him say.

Guts' eyes narrowed as he approached Qrow, his grip on the knife still tight. "What's up, kid? Can't sleep?" Qrow asked, turning to look at Guts with concern and wariness.

"Do you always talk to yourself?" Guts asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

Qrow's eyes narrowed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I wasn't talking to myself," he said, his tone defensive.

As Guts spoke, his piercing gaze seemed to penetrate Qrow's soul, causing him to falter under the weight of those piercing brown eyes. "There is no one here, and you were talking…so, yeah, you kinda were," Guts said, his voice laced with suspicion.

Qrow's heart skipped a beat as he realized his mistake. "No, I wasn't. I-… oh, crap. You don't know what scrolls are," he stuttered, feeling a sense of panic.

Guts raised an eyebrow in confusion, his rugged face contorting into a look of befuddlement. Qrow spun around, desperate to explain the concept of the scrolls to Guts. "It's a way for us to talk to other people across long distances," he said, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"Is this more electricity?" Guts asked, his tone laced with skepticism.

"Electricity… and… it's a byproduct," Qrow said, feeling frustrated. Guts nodded, not believing him but not thinking he was lying.

"I'm curious. Why did you name them after rolled-up piles of paper?" Guts asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Qrow couldn't help but chuckle at the question. "Piles of paper, kid. Are you okay?" he asked, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice.

'First not knowing about Grimm, then not knowing about Huntsman. What's next? This kid believes he's from a different universe?' Qrow thought, a sense of bewilderment coursing through him.

"Who were you talking to?" Guts asked as he approached Qrow, his kitchen knife clutched tightly in his hand.

"My boss," Qrow said, looking up as his aura healed the injury to his head.

"… about me?" Guts asked inquisitively, his voice laced with suspicion.

Qrow looked at Guts out of his eye, trying to gauge his reaction. "You're quite observant," he said, trying to deflect the question.

Guts scoffed, "I had to be if I wanted to live."

"Yes, about you… the situation here is complicated, and we don't know where you fit into it. I'm not trying to judge you. It's just-"

"Security is of utmost importance…." Guts said, his voice laced with understanding.

Qrow was shocked but nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Guts for understanding. "Yeah…" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Guts nodded, "I understand. Talk to your, Oz… I'm going to bed." Guts said as he left the room, his footsteps echoing through the empty hallways. Qrow watched him go, noticing the glint of the kitchen knife in his hand.

Qrow's mind raced with suspicion as he redialed Ozpin's number. "Hey Oz, it's me again," he muttered, frustration evident in his voice. "The kid caught me off guard; he's a curious one. Listen, so..."

As he spoke, Guts returned to his room and collapsed onto his bed, exhausted from the day's events. His breathing slowed as he drifted off into a deep slumber.

But the following day, Guts was jolted awake by a voice to his left.

"Hey," it whispered.

Without a second thought, Guts reached for the Chief's knife at his bedside and launched it toward the voice.

"WOAH!" Qrow exclaimed, narrowly dodging the blade as it embedded itself in the wall behind him.

Qrow stared at the knife in shock, his eyes wide with fear. Guts, equally stunned, looked at Qrow with shock and guilt. It was clear that Guts was not to be messed with - a lesson that Qrow learned the hard way.

Taking a deep breath, Qrow tried to compose himself. "I've made breakfast for you downstairs," he said, attempting to diffuse the tension. "After that, we can figure out a weapon and equipment for you."

Guts narrowed his eyes at Qrow's question and asked, "I thought you wanted to keep an eye on me?" The other man's nonchalant demeanor only fueled his suspicion.

Qrow replied a hint of amusement in his voice, "I am. But my boss wants to test you. He says you might qualify for this 'special program.' You know, see if you have what it takes to join us."

Guts' eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Is he from the government?" he inquired, trying to make sense of the situation.

"No, he's a headmaster and school professor," Qrow answered, leaning against the counter as he spoke.

Guts let out a sigh of frustration and exhaustion clear on his face. "Very well," he said, getting up and dressing. Qrow left the room, leaving Guts to his thoughts.

When he went to the kitchen, he found Qrow standing by the counter, waiting for him. Guts pulled out his knife and placed it in the block before sitting at the table. Qrow gestured for him to eat, saying, "Sit and eat. There will be plenty of time for us to talk after." Guts obliged, shoveling the simple pile of eggs into his mouth.

Qrow asked, "So, first question: where are you from?"