This is going to say chapter two, when in reality it's actually the rewritten chapter one. Could I just reupload the story? I mean yeah, but then I'd be going against what I said before about deleting this.
Chapter 1: The Moon And The Stars
Ek-guh!
A harsh breath forced itself out of Jaune's body as a burly fist slammed just beneath his ribcage. His assailant laughed, joined by the three of his lackeys as they kept Jaune's guard wide open. Jaune was sure that most people never got bullied with such ferocity. This experience would be an eye-opener for someone that had never been in this position before. They were lucky to have never met Cardin Winchester, Russel Thrush, Sky Lark, and Dove Bronzewing.
In a regular school, this kind of beating would immediately not be tolerated, and if he were fortunate they would all be suspended.
Unfortunately, this was not a regular school. This was Beacon Academy, a preparatory school that trained the strongest potential huntsmen and huntresses in all of Remnant.
And for Jaune Arc, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, huntsman-in-training that forged his way into a school where he definitely did not belong…
This was noon, on a typical Tuesday unlike any other. Except that the aggression for Jaune Cardin managed to keep seemingly boiled over right as morning classes concluded.
"Arc my ass." Cardin Winchester spat. Another fist came out, this time nailing him square on the nose. The blow surely would've broke it if not for his large aura reserves, but that didn't stop the ringing in his head that came from it.
A groan tore itself from Jaune's throat. Russel, Dove, and Sky wasted no time punishing him by pummeling him together. Fists and feet came at him in a flurry, forcing him to curl up into a ball. After a few stomps they brought him to his knees, aiming his face directly over the toilet bowl.
"Maybe you should just give it up, Jauney," Cardin teased. Russel and Dove pulled his arms behind him as Sky kept his head up by his hair, pulling roughly. Another thunderous fist came down on the back of his neck, making stars dance in his vision. He felt violently ill. "Beacon just isn't for you. Maybe you should give up, and give that Nikos bitch to me here. I'll be sure to take very good care of her."
There was only a beat before Dove's fist connected with Jaune's temple, blackening his vision. Spots of white were the only thing that remained in his fleeting consciousness before he heard Cardin command they dunk his head into the toilet bowl.
The shock of drowning awoke him from his daze sharply, but he couldn't fight back. Not yetm anyway. The energy would be wasted, and nothing would be gained from doing it now except risking expulsion. Even if Cardin made sure to always target him where the CCTV couldn't capture them, he didn't doubt Cardin would get him in trouble the first time he fought back.
And besides, this behaviour would end soon enough. It would end tomorrow, in fact. If Jaune had his way, it would end permanently for every one of Cardin's targets.
He curled himself into a ball after they pulled his face out of the toilet. He pretended their raucous laughter and preening at Cardin's praise of a 'job well done' didn't make his blood run magma hot. He laid there, soaked on the cold, tile floors of the bathroom for what felt like hours.
Eventually when he did pick himself up, he did it with a groan. Everything was sore, and he hated the fact he felt powerless in that situation. Hell, he hated a lot of things, right now. He knew it was the more irrational part of his mind, but when everything about you screamed 'dead-last,' you figured there was some justification in it somewhere.
His fist struck the stall door, relishing in the sound it made as the lock shook. Repressed rage finally frothing over to the surface. He hated how he had come to a school for heroes only to get bullied. He hated how he wasn't fit enough to be Pyrrha's partner. He hated the look of pity everyone gave him. He hated being made to look weak in front of his team. He hated that despite everything he tried to do, he couldn't help the fact he was dead last in combat and academics. Hell, he even hated the fact that anger, discontentment, and rage were the only feelings he seemed to hold in his body.
All of his rage was punctuated by repeatedly hitting the stall door. It wasn't until the door finally busted open, the lock permanently damaged, did he calm down.
He took off his blazer, shirt, and tie, casually throwing them atop the railing of the stall. Part of him had insisted he vent his frustrations on the soap dispenser too, but instead he pressed it repeatedly, amassing what felt like a ton of soap. He dunked his head under the faucet, washing his face, shoulders, neck, and hair.
He caught his reflection in the mirror. His blond hair was a mess, and his right eye had the beginning of a bruise forming despite his aura. He even took a look at his body. Though he had suffered from insecurity when he was younger, he was definitely changed by then. He certainly wasn't unfit, not with the arduous activity he underwent at night. And with the status of his training and his progress, he could certainly fight off Cardin now.
He just couldn't fight off CRDL. Individually, it was probably cake at this point. But there was strength in numbers, and he couldn't stand for opting to cower behind his teammates. Especially not when his partner was Pyrrha Nikos, the Invincible Girl.
He dried himself with a copious amount of paper towel, rubbing furiously. Even then, no amount of rubbing could remove the grimy shame he felt. He took one final look before the mirror. His reflection seemed to sulk more than he did.
"Do better."
And with those final words, he left the bathroom and began the journey back to his dorm to change.
/ - N - /
"Please, make it stop!"
A fist nailed the redhead boy on the side of his face, dragging him to the floor in a heap. Kicks and stomps rained down on him, the combination of thunderous blows eliciting pained grunts and shrieks from the victim.
"I'm sor-"
A satisfying stomp shut him up, and Jaune relished in the sound of the boy's broken sobs. And he stomped, and he stomped, and he stomped, and he stomped, and he stomped, and he—
"Jaune?"
The vibrant atmosphere of the cafeteria was the first thing that shook him from his stupor. He had to take a moment to recount what one of his friends said. Despite hours passing and the day eventually turning to night, there was still a dull ringing in his ears. His focus was all over the place, his eyes settling on Cardin bullying a second-year.
"Jaune?"
Blue eyes clenched hard at the display, his anger rising. He could feel his heart race increase as he watched the bully pull on the girl's rabbit ears, despite her insistence that it hurt. It would be all too easy to run Cardin through right now. His knuckles turned white as his hands balled into fists.
"Jaune!"
The blonde's head swiveled towards Ruby. He didn't even know he was rising until he near-slipped out of his seat. He found her eyes, concern shining through in silver. "Are you okay?"
His teammates and sister-team's eyes were all directed at him. He gave them a thumbs up, forming a smile that was not fully there. "I'm great. Never better!"
The silence was awkward and deafening. Ruby shared a look between her partner and her sister before sighing.
"You sure?" she asked, "It's just that…"
"You haven't touched any of your food since we've made our way down here," Pyrrha spoke. "You've just been pushing it around your plate since you've sat down."
Sweat beaded down Jaune's brow, his body getting hot at the prospect of being caught. What could he say? What could he do?
"I… had a big breakfast?" Jaune said, unsure. He nodded his head, buying into his lie before anyone could say otherwise. "Yeah. A humongous breakfast in fact."
Ren and Nora shared a look between each other before sighing. Pyrrha spoke up, "You know Jaune, if you need our help all you have to do is ask."
"Help? Me? Nah," Jaune said, waving it away. He took a few bites of his lunch, a mixture of steak and vegetables with mashed potatoes before standing up quickly. "Wow, I could not eat another bite."
He stood up, ignoring the trash-can to his immediate right and opting for the one right next to Cardin. The burlier teen had ceased his harassment of the sophomore faunus girl when he saw Jaune approaching.
Jaune held his head up high, pretending he didn't notice Cardin suddenly stick his leg out. The blonde tripped clumsily, a shrill shriek leaving his throat. He remained dry though, as Cardin was covered from head to toe in what remained of Jaune's lunch.
Their eyes locked, the two men fixated on each other angrily. Cardin was seething, his anger reaching it's boiling point as Jaune only looked at him with a smarmy expression. "Oh," Jaune said, all too pleased for Cardin's liking.
"I'm so sorry," Jaune said, dryly. His voice didn't even hint at an ounce of remorse in his body.
Cardin was quick to grab him, suspending Jaune in the air with one arm. His other was prepared to strike his face. "I'll make you sorry, Arc!"
"Wi-"
"Will you?"
Jaune, Cardin, and crew turned to the source of the voice. Emerald eyes burned in passionate fury. Pyrrha Nikos, champion fighter, world-acclaimed Invincible Girl, and Jaune Arc's partner, stared Cardin down.
"Huh?" Cardin said, casually discarding Jaune and taking a step forward.
"Gah!" Jaune gasped. Sharp pain exploded from his back, only for it to be dulled eventually as he forced aura towards it.
Cardin Winchester, a slab of meat covered in muscles, towered over Pyrrha. To say sparks were flying between their eyes was an understatement. In all actually a torrent of electricity flew between them. Anyone caught in the crossfire would find themselves hurt.
"Run that back to me one more time, Nikos," Cardin seethed. "I don't think I heard you properly."
"I said, Will you make Jaune sorry?" Pyrrha returned. "Because the moment you try anything, I promise I will return it in three times its kind."
"Big words coming from the Invincible Bitch," Cardin sneered. "Go on. You and your drop out partner can get the fuck out of my face now."
Jaune rocketed up, his hand clenched into a fist. "What did you—!"
Pyrrha's arm shot out, catching the fist and pulling him back. "We're going back to our table."
"Did you not hear what he—"
"We're. Leaving."
Jaune pulled his arm away, pushing past Pyrrha and stamping past his table of friends. He blew past the cafeteria doors, heading off in the direction of his dorm. In short time, Pyrrha returned to her friends, a range of emotions all of their face.
"Did Jaune really do that?" Ruby asked.
"Yeah," Yang affirmed. Her lilac eyes squinted as she focused on finding the proper words. "It was so…"
"Foolish? Small-minded? Downright idiotic?" Weiss offered.
"No," Blake said. "He stepped in for a faunus, while we were all bystanders. That's brave."
"And putting himself in Winchester's crosshairs? That's idiocy at it's finest and moronic at it's worst."
It was Nora that spoke up. "That's funny," she said, dumping the remnants of her tray away. Ren followed after her, taking her tray and stacking it atop his. "Because right now, what Jaune just did is more than what everyone at this table did. And that's a lot more than a certain heiress."
Said heiress stared at the empty spots Ren and Nora left. She was doubly more shocked when Pyrrha excused herself from the table, not looking back when Ruby called out to her.
And for the first time since their semester at Beacon started, Team RWBY ate dinner alone.
/ - N - /
The purposefully light meal did just enough to fill his stomach as Jaune packed a change of clothes, a towel, and some snacks into his duffel bag. Crocea Mors was slung over his shoulder, the ancestral blade already retrieved from his rocket locker. His attire, a vibrant yellow shirt that sported the word "Dandelions" in white. He opted out of jeans for gray sweatpants, and his shoes were safely tucked in his bag, as he walked across the floor in a pair of slippers.
He threw on his Beacon Academy hoodie, the academy's symbol proudly sported over his heart and across his back. He walked out of his dorm, being greeted by his three teammates. They formed a circle around him, preventing his escape.
"You know we can handle Cardin Winchester for you, right?" Nora said. She rolled her shoulder gently, loosening the muscles. "Just say the word and I'll break his legs for ya."
"It's fine," Jaune said. "Cardin and his practical jokes-"
"Bullying," Ren amended.
"Practical jokes," Jaune insisted, "Will end tomorrow. I'm sure of it."
Pyrrha stood in front of him, verdant emerald eyes staring into his soul. Maybe under the right circumstances he'd flush and flounder under her gaze, but he couldn't bother. They were teammates, and while they still had a ways to go in being close, they were good friends. He could just never forgive himself if he took advantage of her kindness, or tainted their friendship because of mixed signals.
"Pyr," Jaune said, staring back at her. He didn't waiver under her gaze.
"Jaune," she said, in a pleading tone. "Let me help you. We can defeat Cardin together. You don't have to face your problems alone. We're a team."
"This isn't a problem," Jaune said. "I told you. He'll be done tomorrow. And then we can forget this ever happened."
The skeptical looks his friends gave him confirmed they didn't believe him. He sighed, a hand combing through his blonde hair. "Trust me. If I still need your help by tomorrow, I'll ask for it. All I'm saying is, don't do anything unless I ask tomorrow, specifically."
Ren and Nora grumbled amongst themselves, Nora ultimately deciding for the both of them with an angry, "Fine."
Pyrrha looked as if she wanted to say more, but didn't. She sighed, settling for, "If that makes you happy."
"It will. Thank you."
The trek through Beacon was short, and Jaune spent little to no time interacting with some of the other students in the halls as he made his way out. Several of them were headed out as well, some dressed to hit the club and others going elsewhere.
It took several more minutes to be out in the open air and boarding a bullhead. The trip across the sea of Sanus was even shorter, and within fifteen or so minutes he was in Vale. He maneuvered through the streets quickly, rotating his shoulders to loosen the muscles. He slipped Crocea Mors from his shoulders to his hip, his right hand on the pommel of his sword.
He stood in front of the dojo, the words, "Theresia's Gym," emblazoned in white on pink. He stepped inside, the silence of the gym unsurprising him. Theresia had always ensured it was closed during their one on one sessions, and today was not unlike any other night.
He flipped the lightswitch on, illuminating the dojo's main floor.
There was the briefest of pauses as he walked to the middle of the dojo. His bag, shoes, and hoodie were discarded to the side, leaving him with just his essentials, a strategy, and a sword. He closed his eyes, focusing intently on everything in the room.
He drew Crocea Mors in a fluid motion, letting out a sharp hiss as a blade locked with his. He could see the faint movement of panda ears atop his master's head, the woman's eagerness being unnerving.
"Let's fight!"
"Yes," Jaune said, smiling. "Let's!"
Steel clattered against steel as the swordsman and swordswoman locked blades. Though not all of Jaune's inexperience was handled during the four arduous months they've trained together, he was well on enough to be confident in his abilities with the sword.
And honestly, who could blame him? Especially when his instructor and sparring partner was called the 'Master of Masters.'
Jaune backpedaled, backing off with his blade before altering and thrusting quickly. A ravenous grin tore itself on Theresia's face as she caught his thrust on the flat of her blade. Back turned, twirling her sword deftly, she drove the butt of her handle into Jaune's nose.
Jaune caught it with his face, aura crackling and tears beginning to form in the corner of his eyes as his nose began to throb. He caught her wrist as she began to pull away, pulling her close and squaring his shoulders as he stepped into her guard.
Cri-crack!
Aura flared as Theresia caught Jaune's fist with her off-hand. The blonde didn't waver, instead opting to wrench the Sword Saint's blade from her grasp. It didn't come easy, a flurry of knees entering his stomach as she strengthened the grasp on her blade.
With a tug, and a spin for added momentum, Jaune finally got Theresia's sword away from her. He tossed the blade away in any direction, lowering himself into a stance as his master entered her unarmed combat stance.
He lunged towards Theresia, swinging Crocea Mors in a crescent arc. Aura flared as she caught the blade with her hand, moving it to the side with efficiency. Theresia struck quickly, landing blows on Jaune's face.
The blonde took all of them without faltering, catching the last one before pulling her close. He drove his fist into her cheek, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and bone satisfying. He spun on the balls of his feet quickly, circle-throwing Theresia.
His master was ever light on her feet though, landing on her toes without issue. Jaune launched Crocea Mors at her, the blade whittling through the air. Theresia caught it easily, but didn't catch Jaune's follow-up roundhouse.
Foot impacted against temple, his faunus instructor sent flying. She recovered with incredible poise, gracefully getting herself back up to her feet whilst wielding Crocea Mors.
A carnal smile appeared on Theresia's face. Razor-sharp canines glinting in the dojo's light. She flourished the blade, sprinting towards him. He put his arms up to shield from harm, but felt nothing.
She was already past him. But if he didn't feel anything, what did she possibly do? Was it a feint? Was it-
Jaune sank to a knee, his skin on fire. There wasn't a single cut on his body, yet he felt as if he'd been stripped of all skin. The pain was excruciating, leaving him nauseated and drained. How many minutes had passed? Five? Fifteen? Twenty? All of it was lost on him.
"Good attempt, but there is still a lot to learn, Jaune," Theresia said, she flicked the blade of nonexistent blood twirling it deftly before driving it into the dojo's floor.
/ - N - /
How many hours had passed?
Finding that his mind awoke long before his body did, Jaune stirred himself awake. He found comfort for his head on a thigh pillow, feeling nothing but bandages, bruises, and Theresia's bare thighs.
"How long was I—"
"Unconscious for three hours, lasted about twenty minutes." Theresia replied mechanically.
"Damn it," Jaune said, stifling his groan with a hand.
"Twenty is longer than most men have lasted with me," Theresia said. Jaune groaned even louder, and when he stared at her with vacant eyes all she could do was shrug.
"Phrasing is important. That sounds wildly inappropriate taken out of context."
"The only one taking it to that level is you, Jaune. Besides, twenty minutes is long compared to the average man. I usually break their spirit or their blade in about five or less."
Jaune made to speak, but found the words caught in his throat as Theresia drew lines about his face. This level of intimacy and closeness with a woman would have drove the him from four short months ago wild. But now, it left him mostly unphased.
He wasn't sure if it had to do with the connection he felt he had to Theresia, or if he had just gotten better at controlling his hormones. Hopefully it was the latter. It felt like Jaune had a better control of everything recently, Theresia's grueling regimen making a warrior out of him yet.
Through working out with every opportunity that presented itself, he had managed to turn his body from a somewhat fit noodle into a well-oiled and lithe machine. All that remained was combat instruction, and day in and day out he would come dry and return home soaking wet. It was thrilling—the reward far too intoxicating to have him fall short. Though his reasons might not have been the most pure, he was entitled to having just what everyone wanted.
Adulation. He wanted to be acknowledged. He wanted his classmates to see him as more than Jaune Arc, residential weakling and failure. There was more to him than that, more to him than the perpetual misery that had once clung to him before he found Theresia and her dojo. There was definitely more to him than this life has thus far made seem.
"You really have improved in strides. I'm proud of you." Theresia said.
Jaune smiled, slowly raising himself into a seated position. Part of his shaggy blonde hair covered his face, the rest of it tied back into a small ponytail. "Thank you. It really is all thanks to you."
Theresia placed a hand in front of her mouth, pantomiming a pompous laugh. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Jaune Arc!"
"Oh no, you caught on to my plan? Tragic, really." Jaune let it go with a laugh. "Really though, I'm curious. The dojo is never open during the day, and I'm the only one here during the night. Why do you train me?"
"I answered this question before," Theresia said, throwing her arms around him. Even with her chest pressed against his back, he thought nothing of it, though his hormones threatened to set his body ablaze.
"Because you're you."
"But wha-"
A finger pressed itself against his lips. Theresia wouldn't be having any more of it. "Now more importantly, how's your progress on that?"
/ - N - /
"Because I'm me."
Jaune stared in the mirror, his nerves beneath the surface for once. Part of him wanted to laugh at the inanity of it. That he, Jaune Arc, would not be nervous for once heading into combat class. He went over his attire, a one-sleeved, white shirt that clung to his muscles. A short sleeved black jacket that he pulled over. Fitted combat pants, that were tucked nicely into a pair of Atlas Military issued combat boots.
He even went over the small details, like ensuring that his hair was wrapped and out of grabbing range.
"She's teaching me, because I'm Jaune Arc?" He laughed at the idea. Plenty of people thought him unteachable. He had only barely managed to begin catching up in academics. The confidence to succeed was there when you knew there was more to being deemed dead-last.
Jaune Arc walked through the adjacent hallway towards the amphitheatre, quelling the feeling of nerves as people talked about his new appearance - or more jarringly - the lack of his shield.
He stared down Cardin Winchester, his ears barely hearing Professor Goodwitch go over the same rules that he's grown accustomed to. He didn't give Cardin the satisfaction of looking into his eyes, rolling them and stepping away to gather distance between them as Goodwitch began her countdown.
"Five."
Jaune took a deep inhale, holding the oxygen in his lungs.
"Four."
And with that he exhaled, letting the nerves, worries, and fear go.
"Three."
He flashed a look to his teammates and friends, no doubt surprised by his sudden change of attire or decision.
"Two!"
Professor Goodwitch was joined by the class in unison, the excitement of watching Jaune get pummeled again reaching a fever-pitch.
"One!"
It was the signal neither of them needed. Cardin lunged first, even if he was careful in his approach. Despite feeling confidence in kicking Jaune's ass several ways from Wednesday, he remained patient. Cautious.
Ah.
No matter, then.
Jaune dragged Crocea Mors from it's sheath, scraping the blade against the scabbard. It was bad for the blade, Jaune knew, but it didn't matter. This wasn't about maintenance, or caution, or care. It wasn't even about winning anymore.
It was about ending what prolonged for far too long.
For every step Cardin took, Jaune took three. Almost as if it were a flash of lightning, he was upon the burlier teen. Cardin's mace met Crocea Mors. The boys locked eyes, but to Cardin's shock, what were once blue were now a deep red.
And even further, Jaune didn't utter a single grunt. He only said a word. A single word, that for reasons unknown, had put even him at unease.
"Yozora."
Author's Notes
More information will be to come in the follow up chapter. Despite what the website might say, Chapter 2 is actually Chapter 1, Chapter 3 is actually Chapter 2, so on and so forth. If you're curious about anything, leave a review. Or even send me a PM. I'm always available. For the most part.
