As hard as it is to say it, Luna Fall hadn't been a complete and total failure of a parent. Granted, in this instance 'not a complete and total failure of a parent' just means Cinder is capable of washing and dressing herself, which most five year olds are...I think. It has been a while since I've known any other five year olds. That doesn't mean I will overlook even some of her actions even slightly, though. An abusive parent is still an abusive parent even if they've done even some of the bare minimum expected of them.

True to his word, Doc had found Cinder a new set of clothes and...and..

Cinder looked adorable. Gone were the rags she once wore. Instead, she wore a clean, white shirt with matching trousers. This was coupled with a grey sweater vest and thick wooly socks. The ensemble was clearly prioritizing comfort over appearance, something I can appreciate.

"That's better." I said, and Doc nodded in agreement. "How do you feel, Cinder?"

"M-Mister Casper?" Cinder's answer was hesitant. "These clothes smell weird."

I glanced at Doc, who simply shrugged. Kneeling down so as to be as close to face to face as I can, I opened my arms wide, and she happily stepped into my embrace. It was whilst she was in my arms, it dawned on me what she had meant. These clothes are clean, and she finds it strange.

"It's fine, Cinder." I told her. "..It's just what we use to clean clothes. Nothing to worry about,"

"Oh." A puzzled expression appeared on the young girl's face, before giving way to a small, shy smile. "Okay then!"

I let out a quiet sigh of relief, and stood myself back up. Before I could even offer it, Cinder slipped a small hand into my own. It is an odd thing for me to even contemplate, being Cinder's 'safety blanket', almost like her canon counterpart was to Emerald…

Now that was a situation to avoid. Not only was it decidedly uncomfortable on canon-Cinder's part, it can't have been remotely healthy for canon-Emerald.

Speaking of, did we ever learn which city she and Cinder met in?

I shook my head lightly to break myself out of those thoughts. Right now they weren't important. I turned to face Doc. "...Thank you for this. I owe you one."

"Th-Thanks Mister Doc!" Cinder chimed in, almost cheerfully.

The old man smiled warmly at Cinder. "You are very welcome, young lady."

With a nod towards Doc, I led Cinder out of his office. As we made our way through the halls of the Airship, I suddenly came to a halt, to which Cinder looked at me with near alarm.

"I need to drop something off with the Lieutenant, then we'll head back to my quarters, alright?" I told her. "Growing girls need rest, and I need to go over a few things I uncovered today."

"Okay Mister Casper." Cinder nodded, calming down.

___________________________________________________________________________

I saluted as I entered Ironwood's office. The man had obviously not eaten this evening, if the mountain of paperwork and empty coffee pot on his desk was anything to go by. His eyes darted towards me, and then to Cinder, before he spoke. "Archivist Schwartz, Miss Fall. Is there something you need?"

I slipped a hand into my pocket, and after approaching Ironwood's desk, placed the letter I'd found next to Cinder upon it. "I found this when I found Cinder, Sir. Figured I'd best hand it in to you."

Ironwood sat back in his chair, and raised an eyebrow. "And you didn't give this to me earlier?"

Jerking my head in Cinder's direction, I explained. "I believed I had more important matters, Sir. Such as ensuring the health of our young guest."

Lieutenant Ironwood held my gaze for a moment or three, before nodding in agreement. "That you did. That also brings us to a major point. What is it we should do with her?"

"Sir?" I didn't like where this was going.

"The obvious route would be to place her into the foster system upon our return to Atlas." Ironwood said. "Not an ideal option, but it is nonetheless the most obvious one."

I knew that was coming. I knew it.

"..Lieu-...James." I used his first name for emphasis, protocols be damned. "Do you know how utterly shit our foster system is?"

Ironwood stared at me for a few moments, before closing his eyes and letting out a long sigh. "I do actually."

I froze. "You...You do?"

James reopened his eyes, and smiled sadly. "My past as an FSB is not something I often disclose, Archivist Schwartz. Needless to say, I am well aware of how...woefully inadequate the system is."

"...FSB?" I asked carefully. This was entirely uncharted territory for me after all. This was not part of canon information. At all.

"Foster System Brat, Archivist." Ironwood replied. "...Most FSB's end up as Blues."

"Ah." I will confess, there was very little else I could find myself to say to that. To think that all those fostered children ended up as simple frontline infantry was...disconcerting, to say the least. "I see."

An entirely awkward silence fell upon the room. I was unsure of how to respond to this new, unsettling information. Thankfully, Ironwood came to the rescue.

"...Would you be willing to become Miss Fall's legal guardian, then Archivist Schwartz?" Ironwood asked. "I would do so myself, but.."

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"You're in the running for Captain, and a child would negatively affect that." I stated, a small, grateful smile on my face. I couldn't even blame him. There were only twenty Captain's in the entire Atlesian military after all, all of whom answered to the General, and the positions were unsurprisingly highly sought after. Given his canon self, James' rise from Lieutenant to Captain to General and-slash-to Headmaster must have been very swift. Canon is only twelve years away, after all.

"..Quite." Ironwood's reply was cool in tone, a curious mix of frustration, depression and honesty. "...A sad truth, but nonetheless the truth."

I glanced down at Cinder, who was clearly fighting back sleepiness, and dozens of thoughts ran through my head. Did I really want to do this? Was this the right choice?...and most importantly..Am I fit to raise a child?

I knelt down, and picked the little girl up. She quickly made herself comfortable in my arms, and slowly began to nod off. I looked back at the Lieutenant, who kept an expectant expression on his face. "..If I agree to this, I'll need-"

"...Done." Ironwood interrupted me, and held up a hand when I tried to speak again. "..Schwartz, you are not one to make frivolous requests. If you say you need something, then you will actually truly need it. Whatever it is you need, I shall sign off on."

"..A week off to get her settled in should be all I need" I replied plainly.

James looked at me with an odd expression. "...No money to buy her supplies?"

I smiled, my gaze falling to the child in my arms. I remained silent for a few moments, and nodded to myself. "...I should be alright. And speaking frankly sir, if I am going to do this, I'd rather do it properly."

Ironwood nodded in understanding. "Very well. But I want your word that you won't be stubborn about asking for help should you need it."

I nodded. "Done."

Ironwood nodded. "Very well. I shall get the paperwork readied for your signature. That is the least I can do for you, Archivist."

There was a silence, then something almost as unusual as suddenly becoming a foster father occurred.

James Ironwood actually chuckled. "I suppose you'll need to learn to cook then, Casper."

"I'm not Bruno, but I am capable of cooking for myself, thank you very much." I truly did. I allowed myself to cast my mind back to days off, and my apartment filling with the smells of various attempts at making food from my original world. "Cooking for one more, and a child at that shouldn't be a problem, Sir."

I see Ironwood pause for a moment, before he realised who I was talking about, and a half amused, half annoyed look crossed his face. "...Corporal Shen should be addressed correctly whilst in the field. Regardless of his personal preference for informality, Archivist."

I grinned. "Of course sir. Thank you for reminding me."

"...You are welcome, Archivist Schwartz." Ironwood replied, the ghost of a good natured smile on his face. "..Dismissed. Send Adjutant Vocino in on your way out, if you would."

I nodded, and took a half bow given my lack of free hand. "Of course, Sir. Have a good evening."

Ironwood smiled, and nodded in return. "And you, Archivist."

___________________________________________________________________________

The Lieutenant watched the Archivist leave. He leaned forward, picked up his mug from his desk and took a gulp of coffee, before placing it back onto his desk with a sigh.

Things had gotten complicated fast. This was supposed to be a simple 'Search, Explore and Catalogue' mission. And yet…

And yet..

He smiled. Archivist Casper Schwartz. A curious individual, to be sure. When he first read the man's file, it had pricked his suspicions. Granted, a man with absolutely no past or records...or any evidence that he had existed at all before being found in that snow drift would rouse suspicion in any sane person. But after working with him a few times, that had faded. Schwartz didn't care much for politics, as far as he could tell. He cared about doing the job he was paid to do, to the utmost of his ability. He wasn't an overzealous patriot, like many in the military, and vehemently disapproved of 'altering history' just to suit a political point.

The only thing Schwartz lacked, just like he himself lacked, was a storied name. He was the first Ironwood, and a former FSB to boot. The older families, almost all of which had been nobility before the abolition of the monarchy, still held immense sway over politics even now. A 'first generation' could consider themselves lucky if they managed to get even one family backing them in their bid to be on the Atlesian Council, much less remain on it.

Ironwood's eyes drifted to the letter that Schwartz had brought to him. He moved to read it, but at that moment, Adjutant Vocino walked in, snapping off a salute as she did so. As part of Military Admin, her uniform had Orange highlights, but lacked any sort of armour."Sir!"

Quickly pocketing the letter, the Lieutenant's face turned neutral. He stood up, and moved around his desk to address the Adjutant in a more appropriate manner.

"...Recall anyone we have in the field." Ironwood ordered. "I want to be in the air first thing tomorrow morning. We're going home."

"Yes sir."