A loud ringing broke the silence of the peaceful room.

For a full minute, nothing stirred except for the vibrating device atop a bedside table. Then, under the cover of the shadows and bed sheets, a single arm stretched out and began feeling its way towards the source of the noise. Taking a few attempts, the slender hand found its target: a small electronic device commonly called a scroll. Pressing on the golden, diamond-shaped center of the gadget, the ringing immediately stopped and the room became silent once more. The arm, still holding onto the device, suddenly went limp and hung at the edge of the bed while its owner remained wrapped under the sheets, sleeping soundly.

The scroll, however, was not done. As fast as its owner could return to catching z's, the device suddenly started ringing once more, in a much higher volume this time.

Startled by the second wake-up-call, the figure jumped up in a hurry, only to get caught by the sheets. It fell to the floor with a loud thud. The jumbled mess rolled around, trying to get free. After a few minutes of struggling, out of the sheets emerged a young girl in a t-shirt a size too large for her. She silenced the device once more and let out an unladylike yawn, all the while making her way to her bathroom. On the way, she stumbled and tripped more than once on the mess of clothes that covered the floor.

Inside, the girl started fixing her hair. The shoulder-length, pale- blonde mess with a serious case of bed-hair was thoroughly combed down and properly tied into a ponytail with a single black ribbon. Cupping some water with her white, porcelain hands, she washed and dried off her face. She checked her reflection on the small mirror, focusing more on the ribbon than anything else. She made her way back into the bedroom, smiling with satisfaction.

Now, to picture the current setting in words, it was a clash between chaos and calm. On one side, a bed of blue bed sheets resembling a stormy sea, hills of unsorted articles of clothes ranging from shirts to skirts to undergarments, two open travel bags with overflowing contents. One would think it an understatement to compare it to a dump. Nevertheless, the owner of the mess looked on with a childish smile. After all, she was overjoyed to finally be able to achieve her goal.

"It's almost time..." She spoke softly to herself as she checked the small analog clock that hung in the center of the room just above the door. The hour hand stretched just between the number five and six.

Shifting her gaze to the bed half of the room across hers, her smile became a little sad. Said bed was neat and tidy as if no one had been using it at all. The bedside table right next to it was just as clean. Sitting on top was a single picture frame, the only thing remaining that belonged to the bed's previous owner. Two photos were inserted inside. One was a family photo of ten. The smaller one stuck in front was a couples shot of two identical blondes. Covered in a layer of dust, the faces weren't really discernible. But that didn't matter to the young girl for she had the same picture saved in her scroll and a physical copy stored in the family album.

His handsome face that used to be mistaken for a girl's was already imprinted in her memories. His soft, messy hair was always comforting to the touch that it sometimes confused her to thinking it was her own. But his cobalt-blue eyes were the best assets of his that she favored the most. Caring and gentle, her brother had the kindest pair of gems that she had ever seen. Knowing that she would be able to see them soon, her heartbeat began to race.

"Just a few more hours..." she whispered as her forefinger traced the single black ribbon tied to her head.

"Jeane, you awake yet?!" A knock followed by a loud, effeminate voice echoed from the hallway. "We leave as soon as you finish breakfast so you'd better not be sleepin' in again!"

"I'm awake already," she replied. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Hmm?!" The voice outside seemed surprised to get a reply. "Heh. Well aren't you excited. If you woke up this early every day, Jaune wouldn't be such a worrywart. Make sure your room's cleaned up before we go. Don't give Lily some trouble cleaning up after you again. I'll be outside preppin' our ride."

Fading footsteps could be heard from outside the room while a chill went down Jeane's spine. At her sister's words, she quietly remembered a certain trauma caused by said sister's hobby. She decided to stop thinking and forget about it. Instead, the mess before her needed to be resolved as quickly as possible.

Scanning the room for something she needed to clean, she noted down all of the nostalgic memories. Nearest the door was the entrance to the bathroom. That was where she first made Jaune spring a fountain of blood through his nose. She earned a scolding from both her mother and elder sister about bathing with the door open for that. Next was her study desk. She remembered when Jaune tried to carry her over to her bed when she fell asleep on top of it. Her twin found out that a princess-styled-carry was not feasible by just anyone and Jeane learned the lesson of cleaning up her toys before accidents could happen.

She giggled at the childish memories. Remembering the remaining time she had, she continued looking around.

A huge window spanned the wall opposite the doorway. Curtains, thick enough to hide a person, were stretched only partway, leaving her twin's portion of the room hidden from the golden light. 'Those curtains,' she thought. She remembered the time both she and Jaune hid behind them for hide-and-seek. The fun times they had warmed her up as she remembered how close they cuddled to stay hidden from their little sisters. Blushing red, she moved on and spotted the closet next to her brother's bed. Opening it up, she found it to be quite spacious. What with Jaune only bringing the necessities with him to Beacon, the rest of his stuff was packed up in cardboard boxes placed in the attic.

THUD THUD THUD

"Big Sis Jeane!" Following the sudden knocks to her door, a louder, younger voice called out. "Big Sis Pearl says if you're not out of the house in five minutes, she'll leave ya behind!"

"Oh damn..." Cursing herself, Jeane went into panic mode. Looking here and there, she started jamming a few underwear and shirts in one of the travel bags. Picking only the cutest ones she had, she zipped up both travel bags, either looked just about ready to explode.

"Also," The little girl's voice outside added. "She said to throw your bags down the window if you're done packing!"

"Thanks, Phia!" she replied loudly. Ripping the curtains open, she did just as her little sister said and tossed the bags out the opened window. Directly below was the family garage. Knowing their third eldest sister, she had built a contraption that caught things as they fell on the roof of the garage and redirected them to the family car's trunk. She didn't even think to notice the missing sound of impact.

'I'm so sorry, Lily.' Praying that her other dear little sister would forgive her, she picked up everything and anything that still littered the bedroom floor and began hiding them. Where? She stuffed them in her brother's closet as it was the only empty thing left in the room. If she was to finish her breakfast and be out in less than four minutes, she had no time to play the role of a proper lady. Snatching a pair of jeans off the floor, she fixed up her hair as she put on her favorite blue hoodie, a handmade gift from her twin.

A few minutes after gobbling down her breakfast of bacon and eggs, she was currently sitting near the doorway. Cleaning bread crumbs from her face, she began to tie the laces of her favorite pair of sneakers. Once finished, she started to double check herself. She had a bad habit of forgetting things at the most important times, something she used to rely on her twin before he left.

"Handkerchief, ribbon, clothes, spares, bag, armor, ribbon, underwear..."

Let's just say she was prone to forget a lot of things.

"Did I forget anything else...?"

"How about your weapon?" A masculine voice made the young Jeane turn her head. "You don't expect Jaune to share Crocea Mors, do you?"

"Dad?!" She exclaimed as a tall blue-eyed middle-aged man in a black trench coat made his appearance behind her. His graying blonde hair was combed back and he carried an air of nobility about him. Standing next to him, a dark-haired woman who seemed to be only in her mid twenties had her arms stretched out for a hug. "Mom too?!" She walked up to give them both a hug. "I thought the both of you already left for work?"

"And let you leave without saying goodbye?" The long-haired woman gave her daughter a tight embrace. Tears streaked down the sides of her youthful face. "We promised ourselves never to make the same mistake we did with your brother."

In her mother's arms, Jeane fidgeted. The memories of that day were a terrible one. Yelling, shouts, the shattering of glass, the slamming of doors, a fight between father and son started that day. Silence between family members during the afternoon followed. It was a painful atmosphere. In the end, the weather brought even more grief as a storm brewed during the night.

She remembered waking up at the sound of thunder and flashes of lightning. Normally, she would cuddle next to Jaune out of fear of sleeping alone, but that night, she couldn't find him. On top of his bed were several letters, one for their parents and one each for the rest of the sisters.

At reading their respective letters, five out of the eight remaining family members had reactions that aligned with the definition of depression. Their parents were stricken with grief and regret. The three young ones cried the night away and remained silent for the rest of the week. Jeane, on the other hand, shut herself in her and Jaune's room and refused to come out for almost a month. The ones that held the family together were the three eldest siblings. In their case, they hardly reacted to their brother's leaving, almost as if they had expected it.

Around a month later, they discovered why. Big Sisters Lizzy, Carla and Pearl were all in on it. They were the ones that helped Jaune to enroll at Beacon and they each confessed their crime to their father after they received Jaune's first letter since he left. Pearl provided the transportation, Carla gave him the funds and Lizzy falsified his transcripts. Their father didn't even flinch when they told him the truth. Maybe he had his doubts or perhaps he already knew what would happen seeing as all of Jaune's elder sisters were supportive of him in the first place.

Either way, the arrival of the second letter was the shocker. The headmaster of Beacon himself addressed their father. Jeane wasn't able to read what the letter contained as their father threw it into the paper shredder just minutes after reading, but according to Big Sis Carla, who pieced the fragments of the letter while cleaning out the trash, Jaune was being tested. His transcripts were found out from the start but he was still allowed to stay. In any normal case, expulsion was a normal and immediate response. But in the event that Jaune proved to be better than his transcripts said he was within the first few months, he would be pardoned and allowed to stay permanently.

Following the events of that day, they waited on good news. But the good came with the bad. News of the sudden White Fang attack on Vale had forced a certain list of victims to be released to the public. They waited with baited breath, hoping his name wasn't on it. Finally relaxing when they heard from their son, they were even more surprised to hear from Ozpin as well. Apparently, the headmaster had sent a letter stating that Jaune had proven his worth during the defence of the city and would let the matter slide completely. He would allow the boy to remain at Beacon for the rest of his school life.

The emotional rollercoaster that was the Arc family had at last reached time to relax at the news of Jaune's current state. But the peace didn't last for long. After the events had died down, a certain twin had a sudden idea to follow after her brother. Agonizing over not being by his side, she longed to see him again. But with Beacon's strict educational schedule and the recent terrorist attack, vacations weren't exactly just around the corner. That was when Jeane made a request to her family...

"Jeane?" Her mother's voice brought her back to reality. "Is something wrong, dear?"

"No." She quickly wiped a tear straying down her cheek before her mother could notice. "It's just that... I'm gonna miss you all."

"We'll miss you too, sweetie." Her mother tried, but failed, to block out the tears. "You take care of your brother for us while you're there, okay?" She turned to face her husband who also had a tear sliding down his face. "Honey, your gift..."

"Gift?!" Jeane asked with curiosity.

"I never gave my son anything before he left," her father picked up a long case covered in blue-colored linen. "I had always been against teaching any of you, especially Jaune, about fighting Grimm. But I..." The tall man sighed, scratching the back of his head. "It wasn't right for me to stop him from chasing his dreams, even if it was because I only wanted what was best for all of you. My training for you is incomplete and this was the best I could do before you had to leave."

Taking the case out of the linen bag, Jeane opened it carefully and widened her eyes at the sight.

"Your sister helped me with this one. I know it's unfair, giving you two gifts while your brother gets none. But right now, I believe you need it more than he does. So, for his sake, use it with what I've taught you to survive in that school."

Admiring her present, Jeane whispered.

"What's its name...?"

"We never gave it one. It's yours to name."

Taken aback by the sudden decision to name her father's gift to her, Jeane tried to think of one. 'To name something is to designate its purpose for being' was what her writer of a sister had said to her before.

She loved her brother dearly. She wanted this gift to embody that fact. But giving it a name like 'Holy Weapon' was something too embarrassing even for her. Then she remembered the times when Jaune would look up at the sword that used to be mounted on the wall of their father's study.

Crocea Mors was always just a decoration to her. But when Jaune got curious about the weapon and even found out its name, he began to read about the language that it came from. His curiosity intrigued her to learn about it too.

'To live for his sake... loyal to my brother...' she thought. Using her knowledge of the old language, she found her answer. She smiled at the new name for her father's gift.

"How about..."

"Hmm?" Her father raised an eyebrow.

"How about I call it 'Caerula Vitae'?"