Chapter Two

Jaune Arc was nervous. He had been accepted into Beacon, and now he was off. He had waved goodbye to his parents, kissed the cheek of every one of his sisters -and been embarrassed by each of them in turn- and as he had parted ways with his sword and shield strapped to his back and his uniform on, he had held high hopes he'd be able to make his parents proud from his very first step on the airship.

His stomach on the other hand refused to collaborate on such a grandiose event, and as his nose smelled the pristine and clean interiors of the airship, his body began to tremble and make him nauseous, the motion of the flying ship in the air something impossible for him to tolerate. He didn't know if the terror at his forgeries being caught played a part in it, but all things said, he was nervous enough that he barely managed to retch the contents of his stomach inside a toilet, rather than on someone's shoes -someone pretty, all things said.

As his grandfather used to tell him, and as his father had told him too, 'love was all about being confident of oneself' -although all of the females of his family rolled their eyes whenever they talked about it, but what did they know? They were girls, so of course they wouldn't know how it was for a man...and it had worked for his grandfather and his father after him, so it had to work for him too. One had to be confident to succeed in life, in love, and in the Hunter's business.

The confidence he had was enough to make him lie through his teeth and keep his smile up, even as he was the only one with forged documents of the entire academy -or maybe not. Maybe there were dozens of 'fake' like him that had helped out a criminal organization for forged documents.

"Hey," a green-haired red-eyed girl with tanned skin stopped next to a silver-grey haired boy with the same eye-color as his hair, greeting him. Jaune met her eyes for just a split second, and even as the girl grinned and waved, he stuttered and stumbled further down, disappearing into the bowels of the corridor of the airship. She was clearly showing way too much skin. And his stomach was acting up again.

He really didn't need the nickname 'Vomit-Boy' to stick. He needed a cooler first impression if he wanted to avoid suspicions about his transcripts being forged.

Sleep didn't come that night as he restlessly tried to recall every scrap of knowledge he had read from books at home, and every bit of training he had done on his own. They had all slept in the main room, and as whispers and murmurs of 'teams' started to pick up, he knew he needed to act fast, at the very least show off something at all that would-

And it didn't work.

Well, maybe that explained why his sisters always laughed at his 'confident' approaches. They could have said something. They really should have.

And then, as he stood together with everyone else on the verge of a precipice, the wind blowing and ruffling his hair as he stared at Miss Glynda and Headmaster Ozpin, he began to dread.

Did they throw off the cliff the people who failed in getting teammates?

He had expected a maze, traps, deadly Grimms, and much worse. A stroll through the forest wasn't that bad...until Headmaster Ozpin mentioned the dying. And then he also mentioned the landing. He would have asked for a clarification, but he was already flying by then, already in the air, already cursing his luck as his limbs flailed and he tried to steady his flight somehow -and failed miserably at that.

He could see it now. 'Student who entered with forged documents dies at initiation test, that's why you don't forge your way into Beacon!' on the newspapers making the headlines, with his face smiling or maybe a photo of his splattered and broken body in black and white as his family wept and journalists questioned them on how such a 'vile scoundrel' could ever possibly think to make it at Beacon and survive.

His thoughts were interrupted just as he had been imagining his funeral by a whooping scream of joy coming surprisingly closer with each passing second, and that ended with a strong -yet soft around his back- weight crushing against him in mid-air. Then, all he heard were explosions, and then more explosions, and then even more explosions until the speed began to dull down and he could finally try to move.

"Look where you're touching!" a familiar female voice yelled as he froze his limbs in the air, even as he and his not-really mysterious 'savior from death by falling' plummeted to the ground, he grabbed hold of the godsend mean down from the sky without resorting to lady Gravity.

"Gah!" Jaune exclaimed, and found himself landing on the ground with his back first, before rolling a fair bit until grinding to a halt against a nearby tree trunk. He hissed quietly from the pain of his aching body, but managed to stand back up just in time to watch the blond-haired sister of Ruby land with way more finesse than him, executing a perfect ten-out-of-ten backflip.

"Just my luck," the girl said as she dusted herself off and removed her sunglasses -when had she put them on to begin with?! "It's Vomit-Boy." Yang said with a broad grin. "But I can't keep calling you that, so what about Lady-Killer? That wouldn't work either," she shook her head and tapped her chin, eyes glancing up, lost in thought.

Jaune tried to put a word in, but Yang beat him to it. "Partner! That will work. Now, let's get going shall we?" with a bubbly and cheerful gait, Yang grabbed Jaune by the scruff of the neck and pulled him up from his half-shocked state, before starting to drag him long enough for him to finally regain control of his motor senses, and manage to stand on his own.

"We even have the same hair color, that's clearly a plus on partner compatibility," Yang kept talking. "Come on, partner! We have Grimms to hunt and little time to waste."

She then sauntered off, dropping her grip on his neck, no worry at all on her features. It was...kind of contagious. Jaune grinned back and nodded. "Sure," he said in the end, starting to jog to catch up to the girl's hasty walk. Her arms behind her head, Yang looked up at the sky humming.

"So," Jaune said, "I'm Jaune, Jaune Arc."

"Well, duh," Yang rolled her eyes. "I know that. I'm Yang, Xiao-Long Yang. You can call me Partner," she flipped her shining blond hair behind her with a grin. "Now..." the nearby bushes began to rustle, "Ruby? Is that y-"

Feral crimson eyes shone through the bushes, and Jaune halted mid-step. The thing wasn't a Beowolf. He rushed ahead, sword and shield drawn in an instant, yelling a hasty "Watch out!" as the Ursa Minor shot out from the bushes with a speed its frame shouldn't normally hold, paws outstretched and ready to claw Yang to-

Well, Yang didn't jump back, or dodge, or roll.

She grinned and punched the upcoming claw away; Jaune managed barely to pass beneath the extended arm to swing a blow at the Ursa's chest, slicing through the thick fur and fat of the beast -did Grimms even have fur and fat? They were made of darkness, weren't they?

"That's the spirit!" Yang said with a cheer, hitting her fists together as her weapon formed around them. "This is Ember Celica, my weapon. What's yours?"

"It's-" a bullet shot out from Yang's right fist, hitting an upcoming attack from a second Ursa, which Jaune hadn't seen coming for his back. More bullets struck the Ursa, giving Jaune time to recover his footing and rush back to Yang's side.

"Come on, show some spirit!" Yang cheered, rushing forward and slamming her fists into the Ursa's side, the satisfying 'crack' of its skull making her smile even more. The Ursa didn't collapse, the head shaking from the strength of the blow as the Grimm returned the attack. Jaune was there with his shield to take the counter-attack, even as it sent him to stumble backwards. Yang took his place, executing a flawless upper-cut with an explosive final, a barrage of blows ripping the Ursa in pieces that scattered all across the forest.

"Not bad, not bad at all," Yang said with a thumb-up. Behind her, Beowolfs' eyes shone as Jaune stammered out in disbelief. He clenched the handle of his sword and bit down on his right lip, before rushing forward screaming, passing right next to Yang who smiled back, turning and throwing new clips for Ember Celica in the air, reloading on the fly.

Jaune's shield slammed against the snout of a Beowolf, as the claws of the beast harmlessly struck his arms' protection, before his sword pierced the creature's soft belly, gutting it open and moving past, pushing the dead Grimm against its brethren. On her side, the concussive blasts of Yang's fists sent another Beowolf to fly, before she spun in a pirouette of fire and flames -the result of her gauntlets firing in a spin. Jaune ducked hastily, avoiding an otherwise 'friendly' fire accident.

"Hey!" Jaune exclaimed.

"Ops, sorry!" Yang replied. "Come on! Isn't this fun?!"

"Look where you're aiming at least!" Jaune yelled, hoisting his shield up and stumbling backwards. He slammed his right foot against the ground to hold himself steady, and then pushed forth.

The bloody Grimm didn't stop, even as a limb sailed off its body, soon followed by deep gouges opening up into his bulky frame. As if feeling no pain, the Grimm's ferocity spiked even further as he opened his mouth to chomp down on Jaune's unprotected head. Yang's shot rang true, turning the beast's face into a bloody pulp of messy flesh and bones, but at the same time making Jaune's head ring from the strength of the blows.

He'd end up deaf if this kept up.

As the last of the pack fell, Jaune gasped. "I like your style!" Yang said with a lopsided grin. "Broad swings are best swings, aren't they?!" she excitedly swung her fists back and forth, loosening her shoulders. "Now," she spun, "Let's go find ourselves a relic."

"M-Miss Yang!" Jaune shot out as he stumbled after her. He needed to catch his breath, but Yang seemed quite capable of going on for hours to no end. She did settle for a slower pace of walking at his exclamation, allowing him to at the very least catch most of his breath back by the time the dreadful feeling of 'being lost' finally crept in.

"Uhm..." Jaune scratched the back of his head and looked around. "Where are we going?"

"Don't know," Yang replied. "I'm following you."

"But I'm following you," Jaune said.

"No, I'm the one following you," Yang pointed out. "Don't tell me you got us lost!?" Yang exclaimed, a look of mock-shock on her face. She didn't seem bothered at all by the entire situation, as if strolling in a forest filled with dead Grimm sounded oh so normal to her. And maybe it was. Maybe this was what 'Beacon' wanted out of its students. Hunters and Huntresses who would enjoy a nice picnic in the middle of a Grimm-infested forest, leaving a trail of Grimms behind as they just went about without a care in the world.

"I didn't get us lost. I was following you!" Jaune yelled right back.

"Nope," Yang said. "I'm clearly following you-"

"You're the one standing in front of me," Jaune replied, only for Yang to take a quick step back.

"No I'm not, partner. You are."

Jaune sighed and rolled his eyes, looking up at the sky with a disbelieving-he then yelped as he felt one of Yang's hands touch his back. "M-Miss Yang?"

"You got nicked by a jagged rock back here. It's a minor scrape," Yang's voice came from behind him, which made him all the more nervous. "Nothing to worry about, just some dirt," she added shortly after. "Well, let's get going, partner. Lead the way."

Jaune closed his eyes and tried to remember. They had to go North. The sun settled to the...west, so it rose to the east, which meant North was..."This way." He took a single step where he hoped the North was, and then another.

Confidence.

He inwardly repeated the word in the back of his head as he took his unsteady steps and turned them into a firm and resolute walk.

Women liked confident men, didn't they?