"Burn."

It had been 8 years since he had saved Claire from that thug. 8 years since he had escaped. 8 years since he had last seen his family.

And he couldn't be happier.

He had grown to a truly impressive six-feet in height, or impressive for a 15 year old, at least. Combined with a rather handsome face and his unique build and musculature, he looked far older than he was. Something he used to his advantage frequently. His clothes had remained the same, though he could change out of them, if he wanted, though he rarely did. They didn't need to be washed, after all, being made from smoke.

The reason he had grown so much was, quite simply, his semblance. Rather than his cells being run by his DNA, his semblance had been calling the shots. That meant that his appearance was based on his soul, and how much he worked on it.

He didn't need food or water as much anymore, and he could go for longer without sleep. His smoke, being a representation of his Aura, still ran out like Aura, which meant no going forever without fuel. Luckily enough for Jaune, he had a lot of Aura.

His mastery over his semblance had only grown, and he had added two new weapons to his arsenal. His revolvers, which he had found on an investigation.

Standard .357 caliber revolvers, they were modified to be held by their respective hands. Made from Dust-infused silver, one of the strongest materials known to man. Having been modified by his semblance, he could load them with his smoke, effectively allowing him to shoot concentrated smoke bullets. They weren't lethal, but they hit like sniper rounds, and tended to mess with an opponents breathing, provided they didn't knock his target right out. He could supercharge them if he needed an extra kick, too. Plus, considering his reserves, which he could refill from any surrounding smoke, he basically had infinite ammo, and since he charged them with smoke, he didn't need to reload.

Admittedly, he could shoot smoke from his hands, but it was slower, and only really good at close range. Made for a good shotgun, though.

The only downside to all this was that he could only go for so long before his control over his powers began to go haywire, though it was happening less and less all the time.

It was probably for the best, though. Wouldn't all that power going to his head, now, would we?

He had kept the chain he had found in the alleyway. His revolvers felt fine in his hands, but nothing felt as right as his chain. Plus, it was good to have a backup. Never knew when something could go wrong, even if his guns were bound to his soul.

Speaking of things going wrong, he had discovered the hard way that he couldn't play around with water. While it didn't outright kill him, it played hell with his control of his powers if he got too wet. Which basically made him a normal, if fit, human being. Was painful as hell, too.

But his mastery over his semblance only continued to grow. Who knew where he could be a few more years down the line?

His home, Ashenhold, had changed for the better, thanks to some community service on his part. Thanks to a way to bind criminals with smoke he had discovered, the criminals he knocked out were easily locked up, and alongside the criminal investigations he did, the police force, dubbed the Ashen Guard, were able to get a hold of the streets. And once people saw the police taking back control, they started opening up shop again. Combine that with an influx of police recruits from Signal, and you had a strong, if newly reborn, community.

Beyond that, he had opened up a private detective agency. It didn't make him rich, but it payed well, and it meant he always knew how to help people. Especially considering he hadn't failed a job yet. Even better than that was the fact that he was still living with Claire. Having a roommate help pay the bills (even if her main job was a bit scandalous) really kept things easy.

It helped that he really appreciated her company.

But his pristine job record was being stretched to it's limit by his current job.

This was the biggest job he had received yet, one which he had received from a friend at the police station, and the only thing he had going for him was the fact that he had no deadline, due to the unique nature of the investigation.

A fact that didn't exactly fill him with confidence.

The person he was chasing was secretive and professional. His opponent was paranoid, thorough, chose their allies wisely, and seemed to lead through fear. And to top it all off, the only real leads he had were a bunch of Dust thefts. Dust thefts which, he had learned, were lead by a man named Roman Torchwick. The problem was, Torchwick himself was also paranoid. He rarely left witnesses or evidence, and what little he did leave behind was coincidental, at best. It didn't help that he was tough to track down. To top it all off, the thefts hadn't reached Ashenhold yet, meaning they were outside his normal range, and outside the jurisdiction of the Ashen Guard. But Jaune was getting close to a breakthrough with his current lead, he could feel it.

From Dust Till Dawn was his main, and most promising, lead.

As a standard dust shop, it wasn't too surprising that a Signal Academy student (named Ruby Rose) had been in the building when Roman had attempted his robbery, and had made to stop him. But that wasn't too important. What was of importance was that she not only survived, but what happened to her afterwards.

Ozpin happened.

The man had swooped in like a vulture, immediately enrolling Ms. Rose into his academy, Beacon. Despite the fact that she was only 14, two years younger at least than the rest of the student demographic.

Ozpin knew something. He had to. Why else would he go through the trouble of hiding her away so thoroughly?

And luckily enough for Jaune, Ozpin had a outing soon. A simple meeting with some foreign principals, held outside of Beacon, right there in Patch.

If Ozpin truly was in the way of the plans of Jaune's target, then attacking him then would be about as ideal as you could get it.

Away from Beacon, with no-one but the foreign principals there to offer assistance. Principals who may not even be on Ozpin's side.

Jaune would go there, and with luck, would meet the phantom he had been searching for. If he didn't, he would still get a chance to talk to Ozpin. A Win-Win situation, if he ever saw one.

All that was left now was to tell Claire about his plans, and then he would be off.

Finding them was surprisingly easy.

Too easy, in fact.

Jaune liked to think of himself as optimistic, but even he knew that some things were too good to be true.

They were sitting outside a popular cafe, simply enjoying a nice chat and drinks. Judging by the smell carried to him by the wind manipulated by his smoke, coffee and tea.

Ozpin must have laid a trap, then. For me, or what seems to be our mutual acquaintance?

Well, no point waiting to find out. If they're here, then there is a reason they haven't attacked yet, a reason that probably won't go away any time soon.

Looking to his left, he saw his driver.

Dressed in a dark gray ballistic suit, complete with a helmet that entirely covered his head, Jaune couldn't see anything through the visor. Something he was sure his driver didn't mind.

"Mind stopping here?"

The Ashen Guard's lead officer still owed him for taking on this case, and, as such, hadn't minded lending him an officer to drive him to his destination.

The guard quickly stopped the car.

"Thanks."

Jaune resisted the urge to use his smoke to carve a smiley face into the guards helmet. Instead, he got out of the car.

Just as he was closing the car door, however, a bolt of ice flew out of the crowd a few feet to his right, heading straight for Ozpin.

Said bolt was quickly intercepted by a blast from his hand.

Truly? Their confidence must be astounding. I suppose that answers the question about whether or not Ozpin is a friendly, though.

Then he saw the reason for said confidence.

His opponent was covered head to tow in top-of-the-line shadow-tech gear.

Shadow-tech was a recent innovation by a rogue group of Atlas Scientists (sound familiar?) which basically turned one's aura into a sorta anti-evidence field. It obscured it wearer's features, prevented footprints and handprints, and made one move almost noiselessly. And it did all of this while reinforcing it's wearer's innate defense. The only downsides were the price and the steady aura consumption.

He already knew that his opponent was well off in the money-department. What he didn't know was that they-she, judging by the curves-were a powerhouse.

Not that it complicated manners much.

Suppose she could have a worse semblance to face off against me with. Like fire.

His opponent hid her surprise well, quickly letting a ice bolt loose in his direction.

He continued walking in her direction, casually blasting the bolt out of the air with a blast from his hand. He noted that she seemed to have brought friends along, judging by the gun-toting goons who were about to attack Ozpin's group.

He quickly used his smoke to erect a smoke wall, something which he had developed specifically for dust bullets.

His opponent, upon seeing that their weapons of choice were utterly ineffective, quickly called off the attack. Thanks to their shadow-tech, they vanished into the night seamlessly.

Jaune quickly took down the wall, and walked towards Ozpin's group.

A group that, for all intents and purposes, looked utterly unfazed.

Used to stuff like this, eh?

"Ozpin, I presume?"

Ozpin gave him a glance from beneath his glasses.

"You have me at quite the disadvantage. May I inquire as to your identity?"

Jaune gave him a cheery smile.

"Name's Jaune, private detective, and collector of Playboy memorabilia." He stated, extending his hand.

He made sure to ignore the sounds of choking coming from the females at the table.

Ozpin gave a light chuckle, and returned his handshake.

"You already know my name. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Jaune raised an eyebrow.

"Did you miss the whole 'private detective' part of my introduction? I'm here on a case. Jeez, times like this that I wish I had them music."

Ozpin merely quirked an eyebrow.

"Oh? And what exactly are you investigating?"

Jaune gave him his brightest smile.

"Oh, you know, just investigating a very well hidden criminal syndicate which you seem to know about, judging by how you inducted Miss. Ruby into your academy."

Ozpin actually had the decency to look surprised.

"Mind coming to Ashenhold for a quick appointment? There's this park that's absolutely lovely this time of year."

Jaune had not been expecting the sight that greeted him upon returning home.

His apartment building was in flames, and the authorities were only just arriving.

Only one thing to do, then.

He quickly ran into the building, right through the front door.

He had people to save.

And a crime to investigate.

Ozpin could wait.

Jaune had been expecting the gratuitous smoke.

What he hadn't expected was the metallic smell that met his nostrils.

Blood.

Second time today my expectations have been smashed.

Following it to it's source, what he found made him stop cold.

Kurt, one of Claire's regulars, filled with bullet holes. Brown, medium length hair, leather jacket, jeans, boots, the typical punk look.

Now he had the look of your typical corpse.

Jaune didn't need to check his pulse to know he was barely breathing.

Jaune quickly began applying pressure to the worst wounds, and eased his smoke into Kurt's wounds.

Normally, you couldn't share Aura without something extra, but Jaune's semblance didn't much care for normal.

Kurt's color and breathing almost immediately improved.

"Kurt, up and at 'em. What happened?"

Opening his eyes, brown orbs peered at Jaune.

"Finally home, eh? Took you long enough." Here, he looked down at his body.

Judging by the look of surprise that crossed his face, an explanation was in order.

"I'm healing you using my semblance. I'll get you up on your feet, but after that, you'll have to get out on your own. The place is still holding up fairly well, so you'll be fine."

Kurt let out a dry chuckle.

"Good to know. I had heard you were going out of town, so I, uh, came to check up on Claire," Here, he let out a quiet cough, "Met the guys who did this to me on the way down. Get this, it looked like they were wearing the shadows. Suffice to say, I barely had to time notice 'em before they shot me up good."

Here, Kurt gave him a hard stare.

"I'm pretty sure they were here for you."

Kurt didn't to say anything else. Jaune already knew he had screwed up.

But he couldn't stop now.

". . . You're good to go Kurt. Tell the Guard what happened. I'll send any survivors I find down."

Before he could return to a standing position, Kurt grabbed his shoulder.

"If you need a place to hunker down after this, come see the gang. We'll set you up."

Jaune gave him a look of shock.

Then he smiled.

"Thanks for the offer, Kurt. Really."

He then brushed Kurt's hand off his shoulder.

With luck, he wouldn't need to risk anybody else.

They then went their separate ways.

In the end, Jaune didn't find anyone else.

And Claire?

She was now among the missing.

Ashen park, the place the town was named after, always soothed his soul.

It was named for the fact that the plants were the color of ash year round, healthy and growing or not, leading to a rather melancholy color sheme.

It suited him just fine.

Sitting down on a bench towards the middle of the park, Jaune his fellow bench-sitter.

"Ozpin."

"Jaune."

Ozpin gave him a weary glance. Over his mug of what appeared to be coffee.

Where in the hell did he get that?

"Find who you were looking for?"

Jaune didn't bother asking how he knew.

"Nope. Luckily enough, it looks like she simply got the hell out of dodge. She's missing, but at least she's not captured."

Ozpin quickly took on a speculative look.

Jaune just gave him a knowing smile.

"Let me guess. You're wondering how the hell she knew to get out of dodge?"

Ozpin redirected his speculative gaze onto him.

"Yes, indeed."

Jaune redirected his gaze into the park.

"Me too."

Then, Jaune pulled out his notebook.

"But we can worry about that later. For now, how much can you tell me?"

To Ozpin's credit, he was only surprised for a second before he answered.

"Nothing."

Jaune just gave him a blank stare.

"Nothing?"

Here, Ozpin nodded.

Jaune let out a sigh.

"What do you want, Ozpin?"

Ozpin gave him a light smile.

"Simply put, I want you to enroll in Beacon."

Jaune gave him a shocked look.

Then, upon seeing that Ozpin was, in fact, serious, planted his into his notebook.

Fucking third time's the charm.

"I'll do it."

Normally when he signed papers, they were relatively simple.

A report of deeds done. Who had given him the case, where did he look first and what did he find, etc, etc.

The only time he had signed something like the Beacon admission forms had been when he had first opened up his detective agency.

At least that was strictly confidential.

Setting his pen down, he studiously ignored the stare he was receiving from Goodwitch.

He was fighting a losing battle with his urge to return the stare, just to see what happened.

After all, it wasn't like she was unpleasant on the eyes.

Looking down at his finished paper as he pushed it forward, he couldn't help but wonder.

I wonder if anything will come out of having a missing Arc attending?

. . .

Nah.

Another chapter done. Beacon begins next chapter. You have probably already guessed, but Jaune's going to be younger in this than he is in cannon RWBY. You can also probably guess why. If you can't, well, good for you.