A/N]] This is my first time attempting a project this big, and my first time putting something on . The first three chapters aren't too long, since, at the time I wrote them, I wasn't in the greatest of moods, but the fourth chapter is probably longer than the first three combined. Anyway, the story starts out in the view of our protagonist, M, a swordsman who is trying to leave his past behind, but he will soon find out that not all things are meant to be forgotten.
Beacon Academy. Even better than I'd pictured. I took in a breath of the fresh air as I stepped off the airship, pulling my baggy red sleeves over my concealed weapons. It would still be a while before we were required to gather in the main hall. The ship took off behind me, presumably to go pick up more students. With nothing else to do, I headed to the main hall, before starting to wander the halls, seeing little to no students there. Everything seemed to be going normally, but then I heard a girl scream.
"Please, stop! I didn't do anythi- Ow!" I began running to the source of the disturbance. I rounded a corner, disgusted by what I saw. A group of students were standing around a girl who was on the floor curled up, trying to keep herself from getting too badly hurt. A crossbow-like weapon was a few feet away. I assumed it was hers, otherwise she'd be defending herself. A student kicked her, eliciting a cry of pain from her, and her doubling over. Another student kicked her, causing her to cry out once more. I snapped out of my shock, before deciding what to do.
"Hey!" I shouted. All three of them turned to look at me, confusion, fear and anger on their faces. Subjective Bastille's blades unfurled from my arms. "Leave. Her. Alone." I ordered. "Or what?" one of them taunted. "Or, you'll get one of these blades lodged in your chest. Give or take a few Dust infused shotgun shells." To emphasize my point, I transformed Subjective Bastille to their gun modes. One of them took a step towards me, but another placed a hand on their shoulder, stopping them.
"Don't." They said to the other. "He was in the top 25 highest ranking students in his class to graduate from Sanctum. He may be a first year like us, but he's seen more than we could imagine. There's a reason all he goes by is 'M.' You don't wanna mess with him." He said. I didn't want to brag, but it was true. The first student grunted. They shrugged the other's hand off, turning around and walking away. One of the trio followed him, showing no other response to what was said. The last one, who knew who I was, stayed behind. I gave him a nod, and he returned the gesture. I had some respect for him; he didn't partake in the group's beating up the student-who was still on the ground. He walked away, and Subjective Bastille returned to their rightful places on my arms, in storage mode. I picked the girl's weapon up off the ground in one hand, offering my other to help her up. She took it, and I pulled her up. Seeing nothing else to say, I asked her what her name was. "R-Rebecca..." She responded, keeping her eyes firmly locked on the floor. "Hey." I put my hand on her chin, tilting her head upwards. Her eyes locked with mine. "They're gone now. If they ever come back, just give me a shout. Everyone calls me 'M.' Don't ask why." I said. "Well, see ya." I said, removing my hand from her chin and tapping her shoulder. I handed her the crossbow, and turned around, starting to walk away.
"W-Wait!" She shouted. I stopped, turning back around. "Yes?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. She opened her mouth, as if trying to say something. Her face turned a light shade of scarlet. She turned her head to the ground once more. "Thanks..." Was all she said. I nodded, smiling.
"No problem. Like I said, if you ever need a hand, just give me a shout." I responded. She glanced up at me, her face still pink. "I will, M." I nodded, turned around, and walked back out to the doors to the main hall. More airships were arriving with more students. A large amount of them walked past me directly into the hall, though a handful just wandered the campus. There was a small dust-influenced explosion in one of the courtyards, but I wasn't even going to ask about that. Some girl wearing a white combat skirt sauntered past me, glancing at me, then looking forward again. Note to self: do not to ask her the time of day... I thought. I brushed it off, deciding not to be bothered by it. She probably has her reasons. I waited there for a few minutes, before entering the hall once more. It took a few more minutes before Professor Ozpin cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention.
"I'll... Keep this brief. You have traveled here today in search of knowledge, to hone your craft and acquire new skills. And when you have finished, you plan to dedicate your life to the protection of the people. But I look amongst you, and all I see is wasted energy, in need of purpose, direction. You assume knowledge will free you of this, but your time at this school will only prove knowledge can only carry you so far. It is up to you, to take the first step." He said. "You will gather in the Ballroom tonight. Tomorrow, your initiation begins." Professor Goodwitch added. Something about what he said didn't sit right with me. Seeing some people already heading to the ballroom, I decided to not let it bother me, for the time, at least. I simply wandered the grounds, trying to see if I could find a spot that could become mine and/or my future team's 'usual spot.'
Hours Later
I entered the Ballroom, intrigued by the academy's sleeping arrangement. And by sleeping arrangement, I meant a bunch of sleeping mats, spread quite hastily on the floor. I peeled off my red coat, though I still wandered the room, tired, but not sleepy. I spotted Rebecca in the corner of the room; she had moved a sleeping mat into said corner. She was wearing a light blue nightgown with navy blue accentuations, quite the contrast to her dark purple hair. She was reading a book, in an almost fetal position. Before I could realize it, I was practically looming over her, no recollection whatsoever of walking over to her.
"Hey." I said. She yelped from me surprising her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." "It's alright." She quickly responded. "May I sit?" I asked, motioning to the spot next to her. "Hm? Oh. Uh... Sure." She replied. I put my back to the wall, sliding down it and sitting next to her. "Whatcha reading?" I asked. "Oh... Nothing..." She said, putting the book away. "So, you're from Sanctum. Did anyone else you knew from there come here?" She questioned. Had she planned this? "Well, I know Pyrrha Nikos is here this year." I replied. "The girl on the Marshmallow Flakes boxes?" She inquired. "Yeah, her." I chuckled.
"Oh, not you again!" I heard from across the room. It was the girl who was wearing the combat skirt earlier, and two others. Well three, but the third one didn't seem to be paying attention to the others. Rebecca giggled. "I'd hate to be over there right now. I'd rather not suffer the wrath of the 'Ice Queen,' Weiss Schnee." She said. THAT'S The Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company? "Agreed." I said, before yawning. "Well, I'm gonna call it a night." I said, standing back up. "Okay, talk to you tomorrow!" She said, smiling. I walked back to my mat and laid down, quickly falling asleep.