Hello everyone! Here's another chapter for you guys! Also I appreciate all the follows/favs that I've been getting. I hope you all enjoy!

"I knew it!"

"Jeez, just shut up already. I'm embarrassed enough as it is."

Blake Belladonna had not planned for this. She never thought anyone would pay enough attention to connect the dots, especially Jaune Arc.

"Why would you be embarrassed? You were awesome! Way better than I could ever be," his face was beaming in excitement.

"Okay, first, all it really takes is practice, second..." she sighed; the ground looked really inviting right now. Perhaps if she stared at it long enough it would swallow her and she wouldn't have to deal with this. She began to feel a familiar urge itching its way into her brain. She huffed again in annoyance. "Here, step outside with me?"

He nodded.

Blake put the guitar back on its stand and left the acoustic room, Jaune following her heels. On their way out, Jaune placed the pick he borrowed back in its tray. He wasn't about to steal anything, even if it was only about half a lien.

The air outside the music shop was crisp and fresh, even if it was city air. Anything would have felt refreshing for Blake at this point so long as it was outside. Rounding the corner of the building to the entrance of an alleyway, she sat down, resting her back against the concrete. Jaune followed suit while she reaching into the inside of her vest to fish out what her body craved right now.

"Cigarettes?! Really Blake?" he questioned in shock.

She sighed as she placed one between her lips and flicked her lighter open. "Trust me, where I grew up you weren't worried about life 20 to 30 years from now; you weren't even sure if you would make it to the end of the week," her voice slightly muffled as she balanced the cigarette in her mouth. After a couple tries thanks to some untimely wind, her vice was lit, ready for her to indulge.

"What makes you say that?" he asked in concern, a sick feeling welling in his gut as he saw her take a long drag. He watched as she mulled over her response, inhaling the intoxicating air.

She slowly exhaled a long, thin trail of smoke escaping through her pursed lips. "I'm not ready to talk about that."

He frowned, but accepted he wouldn't get an answer, so he chose to ask something different. "So how did this guitar thing come about?"

She shrugged, "I guess I can let you in on that. I mean you already know I play so you might as well learn how this all started," she brought the cigarette back to her lips, taking a quick drag to compose her thoughts, as well as her words. "I first got into reading literature. The words on the page, so vivid and colorful, they pulled me into a new world; one that I wanted to live in forever. The real world was like a living hell," she huffed in agony at the memory. "Naturally literature led me to poetry. After I got into poetry, I was still a little girl at the time, I saw a guy playing a guitar on the street corner, singing softly. I was captivated by his words. They were so honest and pulling, and even gut-wrenching. This led to me reading song lyrics. Before that I couldn't be bothered with music. It was all just noise to me. But after that experience, I read so many song lyrics from whatever albums I could find, and noticed that they were just another form of poetry. It was eye-opening to say the least."

She smiled softly, thinking back to simpler times. He felt like there was more she wanted to say, so he resisted the urge to add his own piece of conversation. Another drag of the cigarette, another frown from Jaune.

"Eventually I started to feel guilty at only reading their words and ignoring the sounds they created. So naturally I began to listen to the music from the lyrics I liked the most. I mean, what's the point in only appreciating half of what they made for you and casting aside the rest?" she asked rhetorically. "Music became another thing that helped me escape from reality. Music...music is special; music doesn't judge you for having an extra pair of ears; doesn't judge you for having a tail..." she trailed off to take a long drag. "Music doesn't judge you for being different," she smiled softly, feeling peace in her heart. "After a while, I thought back to that guy I watched on the street corner that day. I remembered how at ease he looked, peaceful even. I wondered if I could feel that way too. I think I was...ten? Maybe eleven at the time, I don't remember anymore. That was when I became interested in playing; and play I did. I took up guitar first because it was the easiest to get my hands on. There were some people I knew that could play. They got me started, let me borrow old guitars and taught me how to hold it right and how to not completely destroy my fingers—I was real young so my hands were still fairly small. Eventually I found an old guitar in a shop," she flicked the butt at the opposite wall. Jaune watched it fly through the air as it collided with the wall; the cherry exploding sparks of light in scattered directions. Blake pulled another cigarette from her pack resting in her lap.

"It was...pretty garbage to be honest, but it was something I could afford if I saved a little money. I didn't care if it was old and on its last legs, I just wanted to be able to have a guitar to call my own, you know?" she looked at him, expecting him to agree. He nodded, understanding full well what she meant. "So after some time I was able to buy it. I remember running back to wherever I was staying at the time and playing for hours. I played so long I remember how I was forced to stop playing because my fingers started to bleed," she smirked, a light chuckle escaping her lips. "I also remember not feeling pain, or anxious at the sight. I was just so disappointed that I couldn't play anymore. It was at that moment though, and I remember this...so...clearly," he could see her just staring off, placing herself in that moment. "I remember that that was the moment that I truly felt free. I had caught glimpses of that feeling when I was learning from the people that helped me first get started, but I first truly felt it when I first played that old, shitty guitar; probably because it was my old shitty guitar."

Blake took another drag off her cigarette, her face resting in content at the fond memory. "I had finally felt like the guy I saw that day. That freedom I felt...it was intoxicating. I couldn't get enough of it. Before I was just allowing myself to escape to places where I could forget about all the protests, all the beatings, all the blood and tears flowing through the streets; but in the end I always knew that they still existed, and I would have to go back. It was like before I felt the shackles come off my wrists, but I could still feel them on my ankles. Now it was like I had been given the key to all of my shackles. Whether or not I still actually had them on was irrelevant; I didn;t feel them chaining me to a world that hated me, a world that wanted me dead. I think that was the happiest I had ever been, at least up to that moment in time," a soft smile graced her lips. "I still have that guitar actually. I don't think I could ever get rid of it, not for all that it's given me."

Jaune was sincerely moved by her passion. Where others saw music as a means of entertainment—as just sound—Blake saw music as a liberating, unifying source of equality. This feeling was washed away when he saw her eyes downcast in sorrow. She took an exceptionally long drag in comparison to what Jaune saw just recently.

"Then the backlash against the Second Faunus Rights Movement really began to swing into full force. Before then, I thought the violence was bad, but it was just getting started. Businesses either run by faunus, or by faunus sympathizers were burned; people were beaten to death, or damn near close, and the wage gap was at its peak. I remember how angry I felt. I had all this rage stuck inside of me and I didn't know what to do with it. At first I tried reading. I figured it would help me stay calm since I had to focus on the words, but that didn't help. I couldn't tune out all the shouting in my head. Then I started to listening to some records. About the time I started playing, I heard the guy from the street corner all those years ago play on a radio. His band had come out with a couple albums and I bought them all. I needed to do something to repay him after all," she glanced towards Jaune with a knowing look.

"You see, his band was a punk band. In case you haven't listened to punk before, punk is fast paced, critical, and most importantly, honest. They were no different, instead having really good structure along with the social commentary in the lyrics. Listening to those albums really helped me tap into my anger and release it through the sounds flowing through my ears. Of course those feelings would return; it's not like people stopped getting murdered and tortured in the streets every goddamn day."

Blake's eyes began to harden, and he could see the anger she was talking about start bubbling back to the forefront of her mind. She brought her cigarette to her mouth to help quell the rising urge to punch something. "So I started playing their music, and music like that. I could release all the anger I felt and put somewhere that made sense. Music was able to help me understand and release my emotions. The problem with literature and poetry for me was that I couldn't put words to my feelings; they were just a raging storm that needed to be unleashed. Music is formless, it can change to suit the player's needs. It was able to help me when I really needed it."

A hefty silence filled the air between them. Neither knew what to say right now, so they opted to keep quiet and wait for the other. Surprisingly, it was Blake who spoke first.

"I guess that's about it," she looked away sheepishly. "I'm sorry for rambling like that. I didn't mean to go into that much detail on some of those stories."

"No, no," Jaune clarified, waving his hands in a calming gesture. "It's really okay, I'm just happy you shared with me. Believe me, I'm honored," he smiled, pleased with himself he was able to get the recently discovered musician to open up a bit about her past. He was sure there was more, but some was better than none.

She smiled softly, "I guess I was more ready to let some of that go that I thought. All I needed was for someone to find out about my extra hobby," she stood up from her perch on the floor. She dropped the remainder of the cigarette on the ground, snuffing it with the heel of her boot.

"Why don't you want people to know about your music, you're great! Everyone would be thrilled!" he followed her off the ground, stretching out the kinks in his legs.

Blake laughed lightly, smirking at his question. "I think you got enough out of me for one day. I can't go around spilling all my secrets in one go, can I? Consider what I told you privileged information. A gift for being able to piece together my secret. No one finds out about it though, understand?"

Jaune was about to agree to her conditions, but was able to stop himself when the best idea came to him. "I got another suggestion," the shit eating grin on his face was apparent.

Blake scowled, "What?" she demanded darkly.

"Don't get me wrong," he rushed to clear up, "The things you shared with me will remain between just the two of us. That's off the record and will remain that way. However, I will keep quiet about your ability to play, if you teach me how to play," he proposed.

"Oh no. No-no-no-no-no," she waved her hands dismissively. "I'm not helping you learn to play, so you can have Weiss fall in love with you."

"Blake, the only way I really learn is when someone physically shows me how to do it. You can do that for me."

"No, this is goes completely against everything I believe. I told you music is sacred to me, and this is a shallow and superficial reason to play. I am not doing it."

"Well then I'll just tell all of our friends then, won't I?" He really wouldn't, but he needed an angle.

"You know what, go ahead. I doubt any of them will believe you. I mean think of it, me, Blake Belladonna, playing guitar. Their preconception of me makes them unable to see past the possibility. I made sure of it."

"They will when they see the picture."

Blake looked like she saw a ghost. "Picture?"

"Yeah," Jaune pulled out his scroll, showing her the picture he took. "See? Everyone will see your secret love affair with Mr. Gibson."

"You wouldn't," she challenged.

"I would," he retorted. "I am that desperate for my final bout to get Weiss to notice me. If it doesn't work out this time, I will move on. That being said, I want this last one to be all out. You help me learn to play, and I will delete the picture."

She lowered her eyes, threateningly. "Or I could just kill you. That works too."

"Oh yeah?" he pressed, sarcastically. Internally he was freaking out, not entirely sure if she was bluffing or not.

"Yeah," she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear the precision in her words. "You see, I know exactly how to get rid of any evidence leading to me. The murder will go unsolved, your family not no what happened to their brother and son. All of this is avoidable. Just delete the picture, Jaune."

"No."

"What do you mean no? The threat of death means nothing to you?"

"Oh no it does. But you see, I don't see you going that route. You wouldn't kill me just over a picture. You'd let me show the picture and then claim that it was some kind of doctored photo I made as a prank. From there its a 50-50. Some of our friends will believe you, surely. On the other hand, whoever is left will side with me, and you know this," he wasn't sure if this is exactly how it would go down, but he wasn't about to tell her that.

She growled. "Dammit! Fine I'll help you, but I'm not going to like it."

Jaune blinked in confusion. He won? He won! The feeling was incredible. "Yes! Thank you, Blake! This is so awesome."

"But you better keep quiet about this. I don't want anyone catching on to this...mentor-ship I'm giving you."

"You got it!"

"That being said the shop is closing in a few minutes. Do you have everything you came here for?"

"Oh that's right! I needed to get picks," he smacked his forehead, embarrassed that he forgot his whole reason for coming in the first place.

"Well then let's hurry."

They rounded the corner, only to find out the doors were locked up. "Dammit," Jaune cursed. He had classes and homework to work on for the next couple days. He wouldn't really be able to come down here until next week.

"I guess we were out here for much longer than we thought." she said dismissively. "Look, if you just need picks, I have plenty of extras. Just come by the dorm and I'll give you a few."

"Really? I'd appreciate it," he smiled.

"If you're going to learn from me, you better come prepared."

"I will! I promise. Thanks, Blake."

"Don't mention it. Now we better get back to Beacon before they shut down the airships for the night," she said, making her way to the docks.

"Hey, wait for me!" Jaune called as he realized she was leaving without him.

–

The ride back to Beacon was fairly uneventful; aside from the occasional small talk, which wasn't very much considering Jaune felt like he was going to throw up every time he opened his mouth, and Blake wasn't much for small talk as it was. When they touched down, Jaune did his usual routine of thanking the ground, and claiming he would never leave it again. Blake just continued walking so she could get back to the dorms as soon as possible.

When they got to the RWBY dorm, Blake pulled Jaune aside. "Hey," she whispered, "just follow my lead and don't say anything dumb."

He zipped his mouth and gave a thumbs up in response.

Blake turned and opened the door. "I'm back," she announced. Ruby and Yang were playing a video game, bickering about cheating, while Weiss was sitting at the desk reviewing notes.

"Would you two be quiet? I'm trying to study here. I swear you two are insufferable," Weiss let out with a huff.

"Sorry, Weiss," Ruby apologized sheepishly.

"Chill out, Weiss-cream," Yang teased, "We're just having fun here."

"Well have fun more quietly. There is an important exam coming up for Professor Port's class and I need to make sure I get an A. Speaking of, you two should pay more attention to your studies. Maybe then you'd get grades like mine," she smirked triumphantly.

"Hey Jaune!" Ruby called, noticing him standing in the doorway.

"Vomit-boy!" Yang greeted, enthusiastically, "join us, we're trying to see who's better at Third Strike," she waved for him come.

"Sorry, Yang, but I have some stuff to get done," he answered, rubbing the back of his neck in a surrendering gesture.

"Oh really? What could be more important than Third Strike?"

"Studying," Blake answered for him, ignoring Weiss' cry that at least someone had the right idea. She was shuffling in her drawer, pulling out a notebook. "I ran into Jaune on our way back from Vale. He asked me to borrow some notes from Oobleck's class," she turned to Jaune, "here you go. I expect this back within a couple days."

"You got it. Thanks again for lending me your notes."

"Don't mention it. Just don't ruin them," she said passively, turning back and heading for her bed.

"Catch you guys later," Jaune dismissed himself, closing the door for the girls inside.

Blake sat on her bed, pulling out a book from underneath the frame.

"So," Yang trailed. Nothing good ever came from that tone. "You and Vomit-boy hanging out now?" she accused playfully, "when did this become a thing?"

"We just happened to come across each other on the way back."

"Blakey, there is always more to a story than just 'coming across each other'," Yang finger quoted.

"Well that's what happened. It doesn't matter if you believe it or not."

Ruby turned to look at Blake, "what was Jaune doing in Vale?" she asked.

Blake merely shrugged, "don't know, didn't care enough to ask."

Yang fanned herself with her hand, "woah, Vomit-boy isn't even here to enjoy the sting of that burn."

Outside of their dorm, Jaune opened the notebook in his hands. While he did notice that these were in fact notes to Oobleck's class, after flipping enough pages he saw a handful of guitar picks in the middle of the notebook. Smirking to himself as he pocketed them, he opened his own door. Inside he saw Pyrrha and Ren studying together, and Nora bouncing on the bed with her headphones on.

"Hey guys," he announced his arrival.

Ren gave a small wave without lifting his eyes from his textbook. Pyrrha looked up from her own and gave Jaune a warm smile.

"Hello, Jaune, did you enjoy your time in Vale?" she asked politely.

"Yeah, I did. Actually, I ran into Blake on my way back. She lent me her notes for History, too," he waved the notebook for her to see.

Pyrrha couldn't help the frown from forming on her lips. "If you needed help in Professor Oobleck's class, I would have helped, Jaune. It's no issue, really."

"Eh, don't worry about it. I figured you would need a break from all the extra help you've been giving me. And I'm only borrowing her notes, I may still need your help in understanding them," he added with a laugh.

"What did you do in Vale?" Ren asked, noticing he didn't bring anything back.

"I had to buy guitar picks. Mine just keep getting lost," he said, throwing said picks in his guitar bag. "I'm going to hit the shower, quick. I'll be out in a few."

Jaune disappeared into the bathroom. After starting the water, he heard his scroll sound an alert. Seeing that it was a message from Blake, he opened it quickly, confused as he just saw her. He opened the message and read:

I'd appreciate my notes back in a couple days. Also, hide a portable storage drive in it when you give it back. Make sure it has a large amount of space too. -Blake

Jaune sent a quick reply and set his scroll on the counter.

Inside the main JNPR dorm room, Ren looked at Pyrrha studiously.

"You know, it doesn't matter how many times we hide them. He's just going to buy more."

Pyrrha sighed, rubbing her eyes in frustration. "Yeah, I know."

And there we are. The first half of this came together really fast, and then just tying it together actually was a lot harder than I thought. Regardless, if anyone can guess the song Blake is referring to, and/or the band's name, you'll get an internet cookie! There is a clue, I promise. Now I'm going to go to sleep now seeing it's 4 in the morning and I have to go to work tomorrow, well technically today. Catch you all next time!