RWBY is the property of Rooster Teeth Productions, LLC. and Fate/Stay Night is property of Type-Moon. I am but a poor writer and, as such, own nothing... Wait... Awwwww... Now I've made myself sad.
The more things stay the same, the more they change.
Jaune was standing next to Goodwitch, facing the other students up in the stands that overlooked the arena floor. On the wall behind him, the large monitor showed, on one side, a bright green bar underneath his photo. The other side held an empty frame, the bar beneath it devoid of color.
"Mister Arc, who would you like to face off against?" Goodwitch asked him. Her green eyes remained on her Scroll, her fingers deftly brushing against it. Jaune couldn't see what was on it, but if he had to guess, he'd probably say she was looking at a roster of all the other students attending today. He could see his team silently cheering him on in the stands. Flashing them a quick smile, he thanked them. After seeing Weiss ask out Neptune last night, he kind of needed the support. Just the sight of her sitting up in the stands made him feel depressed. He had never stood a chance with her. Even the janitor was a better fighter than him.
The more he thought about it though, the more he wondered why. Why hadn't she even given him a chance? Since day one, she had belittled and humiliated him. What had he ever done to her to deserve that? He had shown her nothing but kindness and admiration. He understood that maybe sometimes he was a bit obnoxious, but damnit, he had always had the best of intentions at heart. His grip on his sword tightened and his shield trembled at his side.
"I want to fight Weiss."
A hush fell over the crowd. Even Goodwitch looked somewhat taken aback. Jaune's infatuation with the young heiress was well known to all who paid even the slightest bit of attention to how the guy acted around her. In fact, there was something of a betting pool on his chances with her, ranging from the acceptance of his feelings to the more popular outright rejection. Rumor had it that Professor Port was the only one to bet on Mister Arc succeeding with the girl.
"I accept," Weiss' voice called out from the stands. The white-haired huntress-in-training stood from her seat in the front row next to her teammates and made her way to the girls' locker room to get ready. All could see that vicious smile on her face, her hooded eyes announcing to the world that she was prepared to trounce the dunce.
He could see the concerned looks of his teammates. Pyrrha had her hand to her mouth, seemingly shocked by his declaration of battle. Nora, nervously talking to Ren as she was, watched the blonde boy from the corner of her eye. Ren's head was tilted slightly as he listened to Nora, his brow furrowed deeply as he watched his leader. Turning slightly towards his teammates, he gave them a silent nod. At that, their anxiety seemed to dwindle a little. They seemed to understand what he meant at least.
This wasn't an attempt to win her over. This was for him. He needed to beat Weiss, to show both her and himself that he didn't need her. Her actions last night had not been meant to hurt him, but they had shown him that he was never going to have her. Not as a lover, maybe not even as a friend. Yes, this was, in part, revenge for everything she had said and done to him over the past year, but it was also just as much validation for him. If Jaune could do this, he could move on.
He had to do this.
Weiss returned to the floor, Myrtenaster at her hip. She took her placed across from Jaune, Goodwitch between the two of them as their referee. She drew her weapon as Jaune took a battle stance of his own. Her name appeared on the monitor, green filling the empty bar all the way to the brim. Her mind raced, looking for weaknesses in the goof's style. She'd give him this: he'd been working on his technique at least some. There were far fewer openings now than when he first started in the year. Still, she would defeat him. She was a Schnee.
"Begin!"
Weiss dashed forward, her glyphs propelling her forward through the air just inches above the ground. Her rapier sang as it sliced through the air, a sharp note crying out from it as Jaune struck it from below with the blade of Crocea Mors to send it wailing above his head. She twirled, bringing her blade closer to her and pushing herself off Jaune's shield as he tried to bash her with it. She righted herself a few feet away before rushing to charge in again at him.
Jaune was ready for her. Myrtenaster came at his throat, howling as it ripped through the air. He caught it with his shield, stopping the blow cold. He watched as Weiss dodged his slice at her midriff by crouching into a kneel, ducking underneath his strike. As soon as he saw the glyph begin to form under her feet, he knew he only had moments to take control of the fight. If he continued to stay on the defensive, he'd never win. He knew she was faster, and that she knew it as well. She'd continue to pick at his aura until he lost, so he did something she'd never expect from him.
He fought dirty.
Technically, there were no rules in this match. In the wilderness of Remnant, huntsmen had to do anything they could in order to win against the Grimm. If you didn't, you died. Simple as that. Still, Weiss was completely surprised when Jaune's knee brutally caught her in the cheek. The glyph beneath her activated and she was launched backwards instead of straight up where another glyph had formed, prepared to launch her behind her opponent and wreck him. She landed on her seat some distance from her opponent, but instead of choosing to get back up, she looked at him with bewildered eyes.
Wasn't she the girl he claimed he loved? Where was the usual affection that he regarded her with? When did he get somewhat competent? Those thoughts and several others similar to them ran through her mind. Now she noticed his expression, which had not changed throughout the match. His eyes were hard, slanted in fierce determination as he looked down at her from the floor. His mouth was set in a fierce scowl. Perhaps... Perhaps Weiss had been a little too rough with her rejection last night. Still, he had deserved it for even thinking that guitar was a good idea.
His opponent wasn't getting up, but that was fine with him. If she wanted to sit right there and take it, he wasn't going to stop her. He had already given her so much, why not let this be the final bit? Jaune charged with a loud roar, his shield brought to bear in front of him and sword raised high. His yell seemed to snap her out of daze and she rolled out of the way of his overhead strike.
Weiss got up into a crouch after she tumbled away. If she could disarm the buffoon, her chances of winning would dramatically increase. No matter how much she had upset him, even if it was wrongfully so, he would pay for humiliating her in front of her peers. Jaune charged forth again, stabbing at her while maintaining his position from behind the shield. She batted Crocea Mors away from her easily and launched a series of rapid strikes which slowly whittled away at his aura as they glanced almost uselessly off his shield.
She moved to use her dust again, but Jaune recognized the signs. The massive blue snowflake appearing underneath her when she grabbed her rapier with both hands was a little hard to miss. He rushed forward, leaping as the ground quickly froze below him. His shield slammed into her face and as he knocked her backwards several feet, he sliced across her stomach. He landed on the ground and, almost immediately, sharp red lines glowed beneath him. He rolled onto his side and onto his feet as a plume of fire erupted from where he had just landed. He had only a moment's rest before Weiss was on him, having abandoned using dust after seeing it had little effect to engage him directly.
Jaune backpedaled, his shield now fully guarding his face and upper torso from Weiss' wrath. He waited out the onslaught for a few seconds, but it didn't seem to end. A beep coming from his left arm caught his attention, signaling to him that he was in the yellow. He needed to end this fast. A quick glance to his side revealed to him that Weiss had already hit yellow as well. The few blows he had landed had been hard and punishing while Weiss' plethora had been plentiful but soft.
In one swift movement, Jaune stopped moving backwards and lunged forwards. Caught off guard, Weiss found her face being slammed with cold metal again, sending her staggering back some. Enraged and slightly staggered by this successful repeat attack, she spun the revolver of Myrtenaster, and pointed it at Jaune's sword. A blast of wind buffeted against the boy as he fought to stand his ground, but as he did so, Crocea Mors was torn from his grip. Eager to finally end this sham of a fight, Weiss charged forward, her weapon screaming as it came in from his left. To her surprise and horror, Jaune ducked underneath her overextended blow. He popped the shield of Crocea Mors off his left hand into its sheathe form, caught it in his right, and swung it at her head.
The solemn expression on Jaune's face was the last thing Weiss saw before blunt metal crashed against her temple for the third time that fight and sent her into unconsciousness.
The sound of a buzzer blaring overhead cut across all the echoing sounds of battle in the room. Everybody sat, frozen in disbelief as the guy who everybody thought of as the loser of their year matched one of the best of their year. Their minds were reeling at what they had just seen. It took even Goodwitch a couple moments to compose herself. Their eyes wandered from where Weiss was sprawled to the side to where Jaune was standing, hands on his knees as he desperately drew deep breaths.
"Well done, Mister Arc," Goodwitch congratulated after several long moments. "You've certainly come a long way since the beginning of the school year. Would you help Miss Schnee back to her seat?" She watched as Jaune nodded and gingerly approached Weiss. The thought that the defeated girl was playing pretend just so she could blindside him crossed Jaune's mind. He gingerly picked her up in his arms and made his way back to the other members of team RWBY. He turned to get back to his teammates after setting her down gently next to them, but a hand on his sleeve kept him there. He looked back at the hand and saw it was attached to a despondent looking Ruby.
"Did you... Was this... Is there..."Ruby struggled, her questions dying on her lips as soon as they formed.
"Yes," was Jaune's simple reply to all of them. Nothing else needed to be said between the two. Ruby smiled a small, sad smile and Jaune matched her. Below them in the arena, another match started, Dove against another boy with silver hair that Jaune wasn't too familiar with.
"Hey Vomit Boy, that was a pretty slick move you pulled off at the end there," Yang said from her seat between her sister and her ebony haired partner. "You sure your sheathe can take that kinda punishment?" Sheathes weren't exactly famous for being used in combat.
Jaune nodded and mecha-shifted the sheathe into its shield form. He held out for them to examine." Yeah, it's all good. It's meant to be a shield first after all. If it couldn't take the heat, I'd probably be in a lot more trouble than not being able to just carry my sword around."
A loud bang rang out just then. "WATCH OUT!" Dove's sword came sailing wildly out from the arena floor towards them. Ruby, Blake, and Yang scrambled to get away from where it would land, and Jaune started to move with them until he remembered something. Weiss. She was still out like a light. If she got hit, her aura wouldn't be there to protect her.
A clang rang out followed by the sound of Dove's sword clattering against the floor. Jaune stood in front of the unconscious girl, his shield a wall before him. He reached down and tossed the sword back to Dove below. "Be more careful!" he shouted at the two fighters on the floor. "You almost seriously hurt someone up here!"
"Our bad. We'll be more careful next time," the silver hair boy easily called back, Mercury Jaune thought his name was. Everything about this guy screamed cool, from the way his hair was styled to the way he held himself. He reminded Jaune a lot of Sun's teammate, Neptune.
"Mister Arc is correct. You almost hurt somebody outside of your match, you two, and your score will certainly reflect that," Miss Goodwitch remarked as she stepped back onto the arena floor. Mercury seemed to accept it easily enough, just shrugging nonchalantly as though he didn't care, while Dove slumped his shoulders and sighed. "Please return to your seats with your teammates, gentlemen."
Jaune turned back to Team RWBY. "I should probably get back to my teammates." They made a plan to see each other at lunch and Jaune finally made his way back to the rest of Team JNPR. "Hey guys."
Pyrrha was the first to welcome back their leader. "Jaune, congratulations on your victory!" she chirped. "Miss Goodwitch was right. You've certainly made a significant amount of progress."
"Yeah! The way you just smacked her at the end there with your shield was so cool. Ooh, ooh! Pyrrha, did you teach him that neato move?" Nora excitedly asked. She was bouncing in her seat at this point. Her teammates were so cool, and it was great to see Jaune not being nearly as mopey as he was this morning. She wasn't the only one to see the difference. Pyrrha and Ren both noticed it too. Jaune just seemed far more relaxed.
"No, I didn't. I hadn't ever really thought about using a sheathe as a weapon. Now that I think about it though, I have fought a few people in tournaments who did use that style," Pyrrha answered. Their methods of fighting were very different from Jaune's though. Theirs had relied on speed and agility, but Jaune's relied on endurance and power. When her various opponents had used their sheathes, it was to slice or even tear. Jaune had used his as a club. "Where did you learn that?"
"I got a bit of advice from somebody I met," Jaune answered cautiously. If he had been worried about Pyrrha getting upset that he gotten help somewhere else, he had been wrong. Pyrrha smiled easily, happy that Jaune was opening up slightly to others. "Anyway, what are you guys doing for the dance? We're still meeting up to practice for that routine right?"
"Yeah!" Nora cheered. "I've been waiting all day for our practice! Ren and I are doing what we always do: going together!" Jaune and Pyrrha looked between her and Ren a few times.
"Did you-"
"We're still just friends, Jaune. Nora and I have always been just friends. We just happen to go everywhere together." Jaune and Pyrrha looked back at Nora to see her reaction to those words. Nora was still just smiling as brightly as ever before. She didn't seem to be upset at what Ren said. In fact, she looked even happier as she latched onto his back, her head popping up over his shoulder. "Nora, your chin's digging into my collar bone."
"Sorry Ren." She shifted her head slightly so that she wouldn't hurt her best buddy. "What about you two? Oh! Jaune! How'd it go with Weiss last night?" Nora asked.
Jaune's gaze moved downwards. "It... uhh... it didn't go so well. Or at all. I found her asking somebody else and... well..." He looked back up to meet his teammates' sympathetic gazes. Ren was frowning slightly and Nora had tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. Pyrrha was looking away, a weird expression on her face. Probably pity, he thought.
Pyrrha felt guilty that she was a little happy about the turn of events. She liked Jaune, but she didn't like how manipulative and cruel Weiss could be at times. Of all her friends here at Beacon, she could comfortably say that Weiss was the one she tried to keep at a more than respectable distance. Oh, making an enemy out of a powerful family was never a good idea and knowing her would certainly have advantages in life. She could even say that Weiss was somewhat approachable at times, but from day one, when Weiss had approached her with that proposition, she could tell immediately that she was like the others. Hearing that he was still unattached was uplifting.
"How would you like to go with me?" Pyrrha offered. Weiss had her chance last night, had all the chances in the world. Nora was right. It was time to practice what she preached. Nora stopped whispering and giggling in Ren's ear as the odd pair watched the scene unfold before them.
"What? What about your date?" Jaune didn't want some guy who could probably kick his butt to come after him for stealing his date away.
Pyrrha's frown deepened. "Nobody's asked me yet."
Jaune boggled for a moment before catching himself."What? That's... But... You're Pyrrha Nikos! How could nobody ask you?"
"For exactly that reason. Everywhere I go, from the moment I started winning tournaments, people have put me on this pedestal, praising me. I'm sure you've heard my nickname around the school. 'Goddess of Victory.' Well, when people put you on a pedestal for long enough, you become separated from the people that put you there in the first place. Everybody assumes that I'm too good for them, that I'm on a level that they can't attain, that there's no point in even looking for a relationship with me."
"Pyrrha..."Jaune whispered. He didn't know what that felt like. All his life, people had thought the exact opposite of him. He struggled for every friend and relationship he had, constantly feeling like he had to prove himself, to prove that he was worth the effort. He didn't interrupt though. His mother had said that a good friend always listens until others finish speaking.
"That's what I like about you. When we met, you didn't even know my name. You never once treated me like that. You just treated me like a friend from the beginning, like a person. Thanks to you, I've made friends that will stay with me my entire life. You're the kind of guy that I would love to go to the dance with.
"So, Jaune Arc, would you be my date to the dance tonight?" Pyrrha asked, plain and simple. She was never the kind of girl to dance around a subject. If she had wanted to do something and it didn't really hurt anybody, then she would do it. She had wanted to fight in tournaments, so she fought. She had wanted to become a huntress, so she came to Beacon. Now, she wanted Jaune. The only reason she hadn't asked earlier was because, in her inexperience, she didn't know how much she liked Jaune. Even now, she wouldn't go so far as to say she loved him, but she really wanted to try.
So she asked.
For a moment, there wasn't anything else. Ren and Nora weren't on the bleachers behind them. The match going on below wasn't happening. Jaune didn't say anything for a moment as he thought.
"I'd love to."
For the rest of the day, everybody on Team JNPR had a smile on their faces. Pyrrha's especially was so bright, it could blind even the sun.
Bass pumped faintly in the open night air as Shirou rolled his cart towards the Cross Continental Transmit as the next stop in his route, the plastic wheels squeaking as they rolled. According to Ozpin, this was supposed to be a high security building. A lot of important information and data was located here. Shirou didn't care too much about it though. He was finally starting to grasp the basics of this world's written language, so it wouldn't make much sense to him. Besides, he really just was here to clean. After all, it was important to keep up pretenses.
"Halt!" a guard in front of the main doors commanded. Shirou slowed down, and the guard approached him, his weapon cocked, though not pointed at him in a show of gun safety. "The dance is over that way. What're you doing here?" the guard demanded of Shirou. Shirou slowly reached into his pocket, careful not to aggravate the man with a loaded weapon, and pulled out his staff ID.
"I'm a member of the custodial staff. I'm supposed to clean here next." He wasn't cleaning here randomly. Ozpin and Shirou had selected this route on purpose. This guard wasn't the first one to interact with Shirou tonight. He had introduced himself as a janitor to several other officials at all the stops he had made within the last week. The more people that thought he was just a janitor, the less that would think he was something more.
The guard took the ID roughly and scanned it. The guard remained motionless for a few seconds, looking at the data that played across the inside of his visor. "Hmmm, looks like you really are a janitor-"
"I prefer 'custodian' really."
"But we can't exactly leave you alone. Security and all that," the guard continued as if he hadn't heard Shirou. The guard reached up to his helmet and pushed a button. "Hey Frank, get out here." Another guard walked out and joined them. "Frank, I need you to stay with this guy while he cleans. He checks out as a janitor-"
"Custodian."
"But you never know these days, right?"
Frank seemed to deflate at the command. Obviously, he had been expecting something else. "I have to stay with him and watch him. Geez, that sounds even more boring than doing the cleaning myself!"
"Good, then you don't mind cleaning the barracks this week. Suck it up and do your job!"
Frank groaned. "That's not fair! I cleaned last week!" The guard that stopped Shirou turned fully to face Frank. Shirou couldn't see past his visor, but his body language said that he was annoyed. "Fine. This week too. Whatever. Come on kid. Just get it done fast," Frank directed him with a defeated tone.
Shirou nodded and followed Frank into the building, leaving the door guard behind. He gave a small wave at all the several other guards as he walked past them and left his cart in the corner. He noticed that all the men in the room tensed slightly as he opened up the compartment on the side of his cart and relaxed when they saw it was all just cleaning supplies inside. For the next half hour, Shirou swept and mopped and wiped and dusted the room, the men cordially staying out of the way as he went.
"Not bad kid. You work fast," Frank whistled. The floor was so clean, he could see his reflection in it. The phrase 'so clean, you can eat off it' came to mind. "You do independent work? Give me your card. I'll pay you." He didn't know what unholy rituals went on in there, but the barracks' bathrooms scared him. The last time he went in there, he almost passed out from the smell alone.
Frank helped Shirou move the cart up the stairs into the elevator. Pushed up against the wall due t lack of space, Shirou replied, "Sorry, I only work for Beacon. It's a contractual obligation" Frank pushed the button for the next floor up and the doors slid shut.
"That sucks. I really don't want to clean those bathrooms." The elevator stopped and Shirou rolled the cart out. He again set up shop in the corner, Frank leaning against a wall nearby. Shirou was content to merely clean. Frank wasn't.
"So where you from, kid?" Frank asked. He wasn't going to just sit around and watch a kid half his age clean an otherwise empty room. At least downstairs, he could talk with his brothers-in-arms. Now, there was only the kid around to keep him occupied on a night.
Shirou wondered what would be alright to divulge. "I'm from Fuyuki." From what Ozpin had told him, it wasn't uncommon for small villages to never be officially recorded. It'd probably be alright to at least tell the truth, if not the whole of it.
"Never heard of it. Small village?" Frank took off his helmet and set it to the side on one of the computer desks next to him. Shirou got a good look at him for the first time. His dark hair was cut short, his hairline receding slightly to leave him with a prominent widow's peak. He was almost clean-shaven, a little bit of stubble at his neckline. Shirou didn't think he was incredibly attractive, but he definitely wasn't homely.
"I like to think it's decently sized," Shirou answered.
"What's it like?" Frank asked.
"It's home. It's one of the most beautiful places I know. There's a river that runs down the middle of it and sometimes, late at night, I'd go to the bridge that runs across it and watch the sunset," Shirou reminisced. His time in Remnant had been interesting, but he longed to be back with Rin. He thought of her every night since he came here. No matter how long he stayed in bed, it still felt cold.
"Sounds nice. I'd love to go there sometime," Frank said. "So why are you here?" At Shirou's confused gesturing to his mop and cart, he clarified, "I mean here in Vale." The kid didn't look like somebody whose village was overrun by Grimm.
Shirou dunked his mop in the cold sudsy water. "I had to leave. I didn't have much of a choice in where I went." The thick smell of industrial soap filled the room as Shirou set to cleaning.
"Why'd you leave?"
"It's... complicated," Shirou hesitated.
"Ah, I get it." Frank looked interested for the first time since Shirou met him. A sly smile slipped onto his face. "It was a girl, wasn't it?" he asked. "All the kids these days, going crazy for each other. Whatever happened, I'm sure it all work out. You just need to go back and settle it like a man. Trust me, I have experience with this kind of stuff," He chuckled, watching as the kid stood up straight and looked at the far corner of the room. The smile slipped from his face at the kid's somber expression.
"It's... I can't talk to her anymore. She's... beyond my reach." Shirou really didn't want to say anything more than that. He had spent more than enough time in here tonight to make an impression on any witnesses. All this thought of home was making him tired.
"Hey kid... Look, I'm so-" The elevator doors slid open and a woman in black slinked out from behind them. The air around her oozed with confidence and mystery.
"Excuse me, ma'am. Nobody's al... lowed... up..." Frank trailed off as he spotted two of his fellow guards slumped against the inside of the elevator. He reached for his gun beside him, but the woman quickly closed the distance before he could even take aim. The spike of a stiletto slammed into his unprotected cheek, pounding against his meager aura and throwing him back hard against the window. Frank was unconscious before he even hit the ground.
"Hmmm, nobody was supposed to be up here," the intruder cooed softly to herself. The sound of rubber swiftly thudding against tile caught her attention, alerting her to the young man who had been up here. "Well, looks like I'll have to take care of you as well." Her clothes burning an angry orange, she tucked and rolled away from the young man's attack. He was brandishing a mop of all things. This would be easy.
Prana flooding its entirety, Shirou swung his mop, reinforced to the point where steel would break against it. The woman dodged, sliding backwards as flames wreathed her hands. He saw that when she stopped, the flames were replaced by two vicious looking short swords. As he catalogued the newest additions to his armory, the woman rushed him. A look of palpable confusion spread across her face as her blades clanged and stopped against the wooden handle of his mop.
"Clang?"
Shirou pushed harder against her, almost overtaking her in the impromptu battle of strength. She pushed aside her confusion and refocused on beating this kid. As it was, the two were deadlocked, their weapons struggling against each other. The black clad lady redirected his mop to the side and flipped away from him, launching herself into the air and bringing her blades together to form a bow. Tips lit ablaze, she launched three arrows at the fake janitor. Shirou brought his improvised weapon up and blocked the volley, easily stopping them from puncturing his skin.
He was not expecting them to explode. He was rocked back through a row of desks. He steadied himself back onto his feet, only to see his mop shattered along the aisle where he had been just moments ago and the woman knocking another flaming arrow. The twang of the bow was almost unheard as the roaring scream of death pierced the air. Shirou leaped to the side, taking brief cover as the missile rocketed past, blowing out a window somewhere behind him.
"Trace on!"
A small flash of light shone from behind one of the desks. The woman smirked as she pulled apart her weapons to their melee form. If she kept using explosive arrows, then she was bound to attract unwanted attention, which would defeat tonight's purpose. The red-haired kid walked out from his hiding place. It seemed he was a dust user himself, seeing as he couldn't have possibly concealed those exotic looking blades without her noticing. He must have been a complete failure as a huntsman, probably a dropout. His stance was full of openings, just waiting for her to exploit them. Her swords knifed in towards him, looking to just rip his exposed flank into pieces. Another series of strikes flew towards his unprotected face. A kick meant to sweep his feet out from underneath him swung at his knees.
Something was wrong. She wondered what it was until a single strike from the black blade sent her flying back fifteen feet. Her instincts yelled at her to dodge, so she flipped up from her back away from where she laid prone. Two gleaming blades sank deep where she had been just moments before. Almost lazily, she realized that she hadn't hit him. Tears in her outfit revealing reddened skin beneath told her that her forward assault had failed and that he had easily reversed it on her. How? She was faster and far more agile than him for sure. She had years of experience and practice, though she would never say that aloud and would punish anybody who did. Who was this guy?
While Shirou had long since decided that Archer's style of combat was a special kind of cheating, there were times when he was glad to know it. He appreciated it for its cunning, but often times found himself annoyed for the danger it put him in. Archer, through years of practice, had devised a style intentionally filled with several openings in its guard. Mostly used against those who were his superior in combat, it let him close the gap between his and several opponents' levels of power by goading them to attack those weaknesses. If he knew how the opponent was going to attack and where, he could start to dodge and counter their movements before they even began.
He watched the woman slip into a defensive position, Frank some odd twenty feet behind her. Shirou could easily enough close the distance between the two of them if she went after the guard as a hostage. Transforming her weapon back into a bow, the woman reached behind her back and readied something small and indiscernible from where he stood. Shirou lunged forward, Kanshou and Bakuya readied to deflect anything she launched. She fired, the twang audible in the lack of the previous roars of her exploding arrows.
Shirou crossed his swords, shielding his upper torso and neck, but it served him no good. The vial of white dust shattered on contact with the metal of his blades, a deafening flash of sound and light replacing the room of computers. Disoriented, he felt himself colliding with the cold floor. Quickly, he readied himself for any attack, but none came for several minutes. His vision still swimming and a distinct ringing in his ears, Shirou rubbed at his eyes.
His vision had yet to return to normal, but he couldn't let himself be caught off guard in a fight. No matter how hard he scanned the room, the intruder was out of sight. Shirou remained crouched, but still no attacks came. The more his vision slowly returned to normal, the more he became sure that she had fled. He remember that Frank was still unconscious. Spying a dark and blurry figure against the wall, Shirou rushed over to Frank, but before he even got to him, a young female voice rang out.
"Don't worry mister! I'll save you!"
Suddenly, he was on the defensive again. A flurry of powerful blows came from every direction as he struggled to keep up with them. The figure's shadowy form was heavily blurred, and it was hard to tell where each strike would come from.
Ruby didn't know who this guy was, but she had to save the guard from him. When she stepped out of the elevator, the first thing she saw was a red haired guy around her age running to attack an old man. Immediately, she attacked, her semblance slowly building up to speed up and strengthen her attacks. This guy was good though. Even if he was struggling to keep up with her, she had to go faster and faster if she wanted to land even a single blow on him.
Shirou dodged as frantically as he could, the sound of close gunfire stabbing into his already damaged ears. If his eyesight could just-
Ruby watched as the red-haired boy crumpled to the ground. Behind him stood General Ironwood with his foot outstretched. They watched the kid for a few moments to make sure he wasn't getting back up, but when he didn't move, General Ironwood looked at Ruby and smiled.
"Good work. You're Miss Rose, right?" the general asked. Cautiously, he inched closer to the prone boy and kicked away the blades behind the desk out of sight. Once he heard them stop sliding, he crouched down and pulled off the boy's shoes and socks. Preoccupied with his task as they were, neither Ruby or Ironwood noticed a brief flash of light from where the blades stopped.
"Ummm, yeah. How'd you know? And what are you doing?" Ruby asked, holding her nose closed with one hand while the other sheathed Crescent Rose. She heard from Yang and her friends from Sigil that all boy's feet smell horrible. The locker rooms back at her old academy had just proven it true.
General Ironwood didn't look up as he tied the socks together and bound the red-head's hands behind his back. "Oz, I mean Headmaster Ozpin told me about you. The first thing he said about you was that you have silver eyes." He paused for a moment, and looked at her for several moments. "It seems he was right. As for what I am doing, I am currently without handcuffs, so this will have to do for the moment."
Ruby watched him tie a complicated knot for a few moments, before she remembered something. "Oh, the old man!" She dashed over to the unconscious guard, a storm of rose petals in her wake. She checked his breathing and hurriedly looked him over for wounds.
"Damn, poor Frank's going to have a headache tomorrow," the general's baritone voice called from behind her. In his right hand was a Scroll while his left easily dragged the assailant behind him. "Don't worry about this guy too much, Miss Rose. He's still alive, but he'll be out for a while."
Giving a sigh of relief, Ruby stood up and faced the tall man. "So what happens now?"
General Ironwood looked down at the boy in his grasp, a hard look on his face. "I have a few questions for this guy." It was about to be the kid's worst night of his life.
Pyrrha was having the best night of her life. It was even better than the time she won her first championship. Jaune had been nothing but a complete gentleman this entire time. Sure, he floundered a few times, trying his best to make it as perfect as possible, but Pyrrha stopped him early on and told him to just treat as any other night on the rooftops. Only without the weapons. Jaune calmed down with that and found a suaveness that Pyrrha had only dreamed of.
As the party got into full swing, the two of them, along with Nora and Ren, set the dance floor ablaze, surprising everybody with the dance routine they had practiced in secret. Jaune had proved to be a much more capable dancer than she had first suspected given his performance during their rehearsals. Their other teammates had tapped out soon enough, Ren not being totally comfortable dancing in front of others and Nora to enjoy his company off to the sides of the floor. Now, after several hours of dancing in the limelight with her date, Pyrrha was taking a breather while Jaune grabbed the two of them punch.
Nothing could ruin her night.
"Having a good time?" a dejected voice asked next to her. Weiss. One of the last people Pyrrha wanted to run into tonight, the absolute worst being the members of Team CRDL.
"Yes, actually. Jaune has been a wonderful date so far," Pyrrha answered. She turned towards Weiss, and was mildly shocked. Slight dark marks ran down from the corners of hers eyes, almost unnoticeable unless one was close enough to actually see them, her eyes were slightly bloodshot, and her usually pristine hair was unkempt in some places, sticking out wildly."Weiss, are you okay?" Though she was annoyed at her, Pyrrha did consider Weiss a friend and was worried about her.
"I'm fine," Weiss snapped. The small girl wrapped her arms around her waist.
"Where's your date?" Pyrrha looked around for anybody that might claim the heiress for themselves, but every guy was already paired up with another woman.
Weiss looked away for a moment, sighed, then looked woefully at Pyrrha. "I don't have a date. Nobody asked me and the guy I asked rejected me."
Pyrrha frowned. "Jaune asked you several times," Pyrrha reminded her cautiously as though Weiss would take her statement as a suggestion to claim him for herself.
Weiss scoffed. "That buffoon doesn't count. Maybe if he spent more time actually not acting like an imbecile instead of wasting my time, I would have given him a moment of thought. He's annoying. Seriously, I don't know what anybody could see in him. I feel bad for you, Pyrrha. He must have asked you out of desperation and you took pity on him. You could have been here with anybody, but you came with the loser."
A sharp crack sounded throughout the ballroom. People turned towards the sound, only to find Weiss Schnee on the ground holding her cheek as Pyrrha Nikos towered above her, shaking in rage. They crowded closer as they waited with baited breath for a cat fight, but not close enough to get caught in the crossfire between the Schnee heiress and the Goddess of Victory.
"How dare you?" Pyrrha seethed. She glanced around, noticing the audience forming around them. She reached down and grabbed Weiss by her arm. Heaving the girl up forcefully, she dragged her away, out towards the balcony. Now alone in the cold night air and away from prying eyes, Pyrrha let go of the heiress. Weiss stumbled a little as Pyrrha threw her forcefully, grabbing the railing of the balcony to steady herself on her heels.
"What is your deal?" Weiss shrieked once she was stable. It was a cold night. Her arms pimpled and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She crossed her arms as Pyrrha walked next to her and silenced her with a glare. The cold seemed to grow deeper.
"My deal is how you treat Jaune," Pyrrha spit. "I don't know what your problem with him is, but he doesn't deserve what you said." Weiss tried to say something, but Pyrrha continued, saying "He tries as hard as he can. Every night, we're training to the point of exhaustion to be the best huntsmen we can be. Some nights, on our nights off, he comes back late and is barely able to get ready for bed. But maybe you're right. Maybe he is a loser. But he's still better than you."
Weiss finally found her voice. "What!? How could that doofus possibly be better than me?" she demanded, the heat in her voice warming her up. The sound of blood pounding in her ears was all that she could hear.
"He beat you, didn't he? If he's a loser, than what does that make you? He spends every moment he can making himself the best possible team leader. How about you? Every time I see you, you're either playing games or trying to network with the other students here. From where I stand, he's a much harder worker than you."
Weiss' scar burned. "I've spent far more time in my life preparing for the future than he ever has."
"Maybe so, but it's the present and what you do now that matters, not where you come from. Ironic isn't it? The person you hate the most at this school has shown himself to be far more noble than you have acted yourself, the heiress to one of the world's largest companies." Pyrrha knew she was digging herself into a hole at this point, but the words just kept spilling out. A huntress could go far in this world with the right contacts, and what she was doing could be considered the height of social suicide. And yet, she found herself not caring about any of that.
"How dare you? I have been raised from birth to be one of the most lady-like women in high society! Just how could that buffoon even hope to compare to my social graces?"
"By being himself! By caring about others! By caring not about what they can do or where they come from, but about the strength of their character and hearts! The day we met, I could tell that all you cared about me was what I could do for you and how you could exploit that!" Pyrrha was in Weiss' face now, constantly advancing on the backpedaling girl. Weiss guiltily looked away at those words as she bumped up against the railing, unable to retreat any further. "Jaune didn't even know who I was. I just another regular girl to him, another face in the crowd. I thought I would finally have a chance to be normal, but then you told him exactly who I was and what I famous for! I wanted to cry!" Weiss looked up at that.
Hot tears, almost steaming, were rolling down Pyrrha's cheeks. It was a stark contrast to the scowl on her face.
"But he didn't care. He didn't put me on a pedestal like everybody else did. I could be myself with him instead of acting like I did in public." Pyrrha backed up some, replacing the scowl on her face with a gentle smile as she gazed at the shattered moon far off in the distance. "At the initiation test, I sought him out. I saw him falling through the air and I made sure to pin him to that tree. I didn't want anyone else to get to him." Pyrrha looked back Weiss, looking stern as she drove home her point.
"I didn't go tonight with him out of pity. In fact, I asked him. I went with him because I wanted to be with him, because I saw the mark of something amazing in him."
Neither said anything for what felt like hours. Pyrrha wiped away the last of her tears as Weiss could only stand there and absorb everything.
"Hey, is everything ok here?" Jaune asked, breaking the tense silence between the two. He was standing at the balcony door, a cup of punch in both hands. He took his place next to his date and offered a glass to her, receiving a small appreciative smile as thanks.
"Yes. Yes, everything is alright Jaune. Nothing you need to worry about," Pyrrha assured him. She took the cup and wrapped an arm around her date's waist, surprising him slightly. She gave a pointed look to Weiss as Jaune hesitantly put an arm around her shoulder in response. Content with Weiss' scathing expression, she looked back at Jaune. "I'm starting to get tired. Would it be alright with you if I went back to the dorms?"
"Of course. Come on, I'll walk you back," Jaune offered. "I wouldn't want to leave a lady all alone and defenseless." They shared a small smile at the joke. They knew that between the two of them, it would most likely be Pyrrha defending Jaune.
"No, no. It's still early and most of our friends are still here. Stay and enjoy the party." Pyrrha detached from her date, waving goodbye as she disappeared into the crowd. Jaune moved to the railing as he watched the Amazon walk back to the dorm rooms below. A small sigh escaped his lips as he settled his head into the crook of his elbow.
"She's amazing." He hadn't been talking to anybody in particular, so he jumped a little when Weiss moved next to him. They stayed like that together before Jaune got a little uncomfortable and moved away slightly. A series of flashing lights caught his eye in the distance, but he paid them no mind. Teenagers with weapons and what were basically super powers tended to get a little rowdy on big nights like tonight. Teenagers that don't have dates were even more so.
"Jaune?"
"Yeah?"
"Out of curiosity..." Talking to Pyrrha had left a voice with a nagging question in the back of her head. She had the feeling that if she didn't ask now, she wouldn't ever think to do it again. "Do you know who I am?"
The question earned her a sidelong look from Jaune. "You're Weiss?" he replied, unsure of how he should reply to what seemed like an obvious question.
Weiss sighed and turned to look at him. "Right, but do you know my background? "Weiss watched Jaune took a thinking pose as he seriously seemed to think about what he knew of her.
"Well, you're a member of team RWBY... ummm... You use dust... ummm... Ruby said you wanted bunk beds, so you probably have a brother... or a sister!" Jaune quickly added at Weiss' dumbstruck look, thinking he had offended her somehow.
She couldn't believe it. This guy really didn't know who she was. "Were you raised under a rock?" she asked softly. There was no way he couldn't know.
"Hey, that hurts."
"I'm Weiss Schnee. Of the Schnee Dust Company. Idiot." She watched as Jaune did a double take. "Did you really think it was a coincidence that I happened to have the same last name as a major corporation that produces the same material I use in combat?"
Jaune scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. With reddened cheeks, he said, "Well, in my home town, there were a lot of people who had the name Schnee. A lot of people who didn't have a last name just ended up making up their own. More than a few had the name Schnee." Weiss was familiar with the practice. Those who had lost everything in Grimm attacks would take new names. Some abused it, taking names that were associated with respect, such as the age old Arc or the more recent Schnee. There were more than a few law suits levied against her family because of that. It was honestly a little surprising how many Faunus took their name, if not shaming.
Jaune let out a small chuckle. "You wouldn't believe how many people had my family name."
Weiss pushed that to the side for the moment. The idea that this... this... she didn't know what to call him anymore... that Jaune was actually really an Arc was a little too much for her to handle at the moment. Instead, she just focused on something more important. "What made you ask me out?"
A grimace flashed across his face, gone as quick as it came. "You were pretty and you looked lonely." Jaune looked back out towards the campus, trying to see if he could still see Pyrrha. A small red figure was visible for only a moment before it turned around a corner, disappearing from view. He held his gaze for a few seconds before turning it skyward. The moon was pretty tonight.
A delicate eyebrow raised. "I was with Pyrrha." Her only answer was a shrug. The night was cold again and the bright night sky seemed like it would swallow her up whole as she stood there regarding the blond knight.
Jaune finished his cup of punch and stopped leaning against the railing. "It's cold out here tonight. I think I'm gonna go back inside." She nodded once and watched him walk back to the doors. Neptune ran into him and was about to walk past before the 'coolest guy in Beacon' noticed her standing alone. A nervous sweat broke on his tan forehead and he quickly swung an arm around the blonde's shoulder, leading him quickly away back downstairs.
It was cold outside. For a moment, she thought her tears would turn to ice.
The sounds of flesh striking flesh over and over again were stifled in the small grey room. A bang sounded out as Shirou's head was slammed onto the table in front of him. He would have fought back, but as it was, his hands and legs were bound to the folding chair he was sitting in. He just gritted his teeth, grunting with every punch.
"Talk! Who sent you?" a voice demanded. When he had woken up, there was a man in white suit sitting across the table from him. He had been asked some questions and he had answered as truthfully as his deal with Ozpin would allow. However, the more he said, the more upset the man got until he flew into a fit of rage.
"I told you, I work for Beacon. I'm a custodian here." A gloved fist buried itself into his cheek, rocking him hard enough to tip over along with the chair. His vision swam for the second time that night, the blood pounding in his head as he fought to stay conscious. He heard the squeak of the man's boots as he knelt down beside Shirou and felt a hand painfully pull against the back of his head.
"My men have been checking everything you say, and every single bit of it sends up red flags. You're lying to me," the man hissed into Shirou's ear. Suddenly, the only door to the room flew open, banging against the wall. Shirou couldn't see who it was from where he lay, but he could hear several people shouting for somebody to stop.
"James!" a familiar voice cried out. All the voices died down. A pause and then a long suffering sigh. "That's enough."
The man looked towards the door, and then stood up. All Shirou could see where the leather boots the man wore. Idly, he noted a spot of blood on the toe. The back of his head itched as he looked at it. "Oz. We caught this kid in the terminal room at the CCT. He attacked several of my men and put many of them in critical condition. We need to find out who sent him."
"James, I know this man. I can vouch for him. I was the one who sent him there in the first place."
"Maybe you think that, but I think it's far more likely he planned to get here since he was hired. I know his kind. They're crafty and they work in the shadows, pulling at strings we don't even know we have to get what they want." A bitter note was present there. It reminded Shirou of sucking lemons.
"General, do you really think that I am so weak-minded that I would allow myself to be manipulated easily?" A tone of aggravation. A challenge.
"What? No. Oz, you know I don't think that about you. I just think it's far more likely that-" Defensive.
A new voice. "Umm sir? We reviewed the security footage, and this guy wasn't responsible."
A pause. "You're sure?" the boots asked.
"With a body like hers, it'd be kinda hard... to... call..." the voice petered off. "Right. Umm, anyway, yes. In fact, this guy actually may have saved Frank's life."
Silence. The boots danced a little in place. "I see. Thank you," they said stiffly. "Oz, listen-"
"General, do you mind giving us a moment?" the familiar voice asked. Though it was phrased as a request, even Shirou could recognize it for what it was.
"... Sure." The boots stepped over him and Shirou heard the door close. Shirou felt something at his back and struggled slightly.
"Shirou, relax. It's me, Ozpin. I'm just getting you out of these restraints." Shirou relaxed at that, and felt the handcuffs at his wrists and ankles disappear. A pair of hands grabbed him by the shoulders and gently moved him into a sitting position. Shirou shook his head, a sense of vertigo and nausea overwhelming him and splitting his vision in two.
Ozpin looked at Shirou's face, the dark purple bruises slowly fading out of existence. Slowly, he stood Shirou up and walked him over to the other chair. He caught Shirou as he staggered, waiting until he was sure the redhead had steadied himself again. Ozpin sat Shirou down in the chair and righted the chair across the table. "Are you okay, Shirou? I'm afraid James was never... well he was always very enthusiastic about getting results." He didn't like disparaging one of his oldest friends, even if he tended to be incredibly violent in times of crises.
Shirou groaned, clutching his head. "I've been through worse. I'll be fine soon enough." Ozpin felt a massive pang of guilt in his heart. Still, there were questions that needed answering.
"Shirou, what happened tonight?" he questioned.
"I followed the route that we set up, making sure that people saw me like always. I got to the CCT building and I started cleaning with a guard watching me." Shirou's eyes shot open and his head snapped up. "Frank! Is Frank alright?"
The tone of worry and alarm warmed Ozpin's heart a little. It was always so refreshing to hear people care about others, even if they were a complete stranger. "Yes, Shirou. Private Carmody will make a complete recovery. The only injuries he suffered were aura depletion and a mild concussion." He watched as Shirou sighed in relief. Ozpin's nose wrinkled a little and his brow furrowed at the smell of blood growing stronger with that sigh. "Please, what else happened."
Shirou nodded and continued. "She showed up. A woman in black and carmine eyes. Long black hair. Used two short swords that combined into a bow that shot off incendiary arrows. It was weird. She didn't have them anywhere on her person, but all of a sudden they were there."
A silver eyebrow rose. "It sounds like a dust user. Some fighters embed dust into their clothing. But just to be sure, are you sure she wasn't just hiding them somewhere on her person?" Any small details they could get on this assailant could make a world of difference. It would allow them to prepare for this woman who had defeated an entire platoon of guards in straightforward combat.
Shirou blushed slightly and averted his gaze. "No. She definitely wouldn't have been able to hide those easily." Ozpin allowed a small grin on his face. He forgot that Shirou was still just barely an adult. The grin fell away at that thought. Shirou was still just a teenager. He let his gaze wonder on the man's figure, taking note of how Shirou's crumpled nose was gradually pulling itself into its proper shape. "Oh!" Ozpin's gaze snapped back to Shirou's. "Her clothes did glow when she attacked. And she used something like a flash bomb from my-" Shirou caught himself, his eyes sliding over to the mirror on the wall. "From my home. I also made sure to... end the fight as quickly as possible."
Ozpin nodded. Shirou didn't reveal much to her. "It indeed sounds like a dust user. She probably used a variation of light dust. Did she use a phial for that attack?"
Shirou nodded. "After that flash bomb, I couldn't see anything and I assume that she escaped. I was going to check on Frank, but somebody else attacked me." Shirou rubbed his brow. "It's hard to remember what else happened after that. I was still disoriented from the flash bomb. The next thing I remember is waking up in here, handcuffed to a chair."
"Do you think you could recognize her again? If we gave you a series of photos, do you think you could pick her out?" The Vale Police Department had a series of photo id books on all the criminals they'd apprehended, including sketching of suspects that they had yet to catch.
Shirou thought for a moment before he nodded. "She had on a half-mask, which would make it easier to identify her. However, I can't guarantee a positive match."
"I see. Thank you, Shirou. I'm sorry about all that... transpired tonight. Why don't you take the next couple days off? Go to Vale and see the sights." Ozpin felt terrible. His duties as headmaster had him busy chaperoning the dance while this interrogation went on. The moment he found out, he had rushed down here as soon as possible, only to find James savagely beating him. He felt that Shirou should just enjoy the next couple days at his leisure.
In the meantime, he was going to talk to his old friend.
Shirou looked slightly taken aback. Looking down in shame, he admitted, "I don't have the funds at the moment. I saw some of the prices for tours and it's a little beyond what I'm comfortable spending."
Ozpin made a mental note to raise Shirou's salary the moment he got back to his office. "Then don't think of it as a vacation. Think of it as an opportunity to learn more about how to see how other businesses' custodial staffs operate. I'm more than confident that the school would be willing to reimburse you for that as a business expense. Even if it doesn't, I will." A pleasant smile finally settled on his face as Shirou's mouth dropped open.
Every one of Shirou's Japanese sensibilities told him to decline. "But... You... I couldn't possibly-"
Ozpin stopped him cold with that genial tone of his. "Shiro. For me. Tomorrow, after you finish work, go out to Vale and come back fully rested on Sunday. I'll have a credit card ready for your use. While there is technically no limit here, do please try to be sensible with your spending."
Shirou's mouth opened and closed for several seconds before letting out a massive sigh of exasperation. "Why?" Why are you doing this for me? Why are you being so generous? Why are you willing to pay for such a leisurely thing when it could be better spent on something else?
"Because I feel like you might like to see what this world has to offer." Because Shirou deserved better. Because Shirou was due this and much more. Because Shirou might never get the chance to do it again. Because Ozpin felt that war was coming.
Both perfectly understood what the other meant. Nothing else needed to be said that night.
Author Notes:
1. Sometimes, when you see something that is unusual or out of place or maybe even just flat wrong in one of my stories, it is not an accident. It is intentional. I pick and choose my words carefully when I write this story, when I write any story. I have a huge document several tens of pages long that has tons of details that I want to get across to the reader. This story is, for a large part of it anyways, already finished. In my head that is. If something looks out of place, good job, you caught some subtlety.
2. I do actually use the wikias for both RWBY and Fate/Stay Night, although the latter's goes by the name Type-Moon because FSN is actually a small part of that world. I cross-reference from other sources to double check what I know and I'll look for information if I'm not sure of something. Sometimes, these wikias are woefully incomplete. The RWBY wikia is created and managed by fans who don't have the intrinsic knowledge that the people at RT do and have to work with the content supplied. For instance, somehow, our fan base has the idea that the proper job title is Hunters, but they are never referred to as such in the show. It's always Huntsmen.
3. Nobody's really nitpicked about this, but I only put down Author's Notes when I feel like I need to. People kept complaining about Shirou's height due to him being much taller in the show. Guess what. What they're doing is called artistic license. I do that too sometimes, like with how Ozpin saw Shirou's memories. It makes the story more interesting. The illustrators for the show did that too with how tall they made Shirou, and it works. My point is that I don't feel like I always have to explain every detail, but if people audibly express enough confusion or I feel like I have to defend my stance, you'll see Author's Notes.
4. I do not bureaucratic red tape. These past couple of weeks have just been a total mess of fines and fees and strongly worded messages and sleep deprivation. That's literally the only reason why this chapter was so delayed.
Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. I'm going to go sleep now.