Authors Note: horizontal line means start and end of flash back
Beauty and the Fool Chapter 3
The next morning, the air was still dry and the sun's glare was nearly unbearable. Sweat dripped between my shoulder blades and ran off my chest. The heat was so complete, it felt alive, as though it sucked at me, pulling my eyelids lower and making my limbs heavy. My lungs ached, but I ignored it all: the heat, the burn of calluses on my hands as I swung my sword upward to parry Pyrrha's attempt to strike me.
Pyrrha had left herself unprotected on the right side of her torso. I struck towards her side hard and fast. On instinct, she lifted her shield to block the newly protected area. With a swift movement, she arched her body backwards, delivering a round-house kick to my wrist, causing me to drop my sword. Before I had a chance to react, I raised my shield to block Pyrrha's hook kick to the head, knocking me to the ground.
A light round of applause greeted her victory.
"Way to go Pyrrha," I heard Nora say.
"Nicely done," Ren commented back.
Pyrrha stood over me, her chest heaving, loosely holding her sword. Extending her free hand, she helped me back up. "Good match Jaune."
"Same to you," I grumbled, rubbing the left side of my head.
I swiped the sweat on my forehead; I whirled to face the Ren and Nora, who stood outside the ring watching.
"Why don't we get some lunch," Pyrrha said.
"Sure but, I'll catch up with you guys later," I gestured for them to go.
Pyrrha hung back.
"Nora, why don't you and Ren reserve a table." Nora hesitated for a moment, but then she had a mischievous look on her face.
"Whatever you say, come on Ren," Nora grabbed Ren by the wrist marched away from us.
"Please slow down," he said, his voice parted. They left, leaving only Pyrrha and I.
"What's up?" I recognized the pensive look on her face.
"You know what I'm talking about. The way you were fighting just now, you were out of sync."
I remained silent, my jaw clenched. I didn't want to talk about it, but she was my partner. Her gaze fixated on mine.
"What happened back there?"
"I was careless, and I wasn't paying attention; that's all it was."
"Do you take me for a fool?" Pyrrha's voice held a note of warning.
I turned my back on my partner. "Look, I'll catch up. Just leave me alone."
I clutched to my sword tightly, ignoring the uncomfortable squirm in my stomach.
"Very well." Pyrrha paused, and her expression softened. "I know what you must be feeling right now. But you have to let that go."
Pyrrha turned without another word and walked away.
Even though my muscles burned with exhaustion, I forced myself to lift Corcea Mors and work through my forms one more time. Thrust, jab, parry, spin, and attack. Slashed upward, downward, sideways, and outward. When I was on the roof with Pyrrha, I told that the reason I cheated my way to Beacon was that I wanted to become a hero like my father. To take on the family name. But how could I? I couldn't help one girl from a bully.
The memories flooded up as I spun through the ring, lunging, crouching, and fighting a whole horde of imaginary foes from my past.
I thought of the night when I was seven, and overheard my parents talking about me. We lived outside the border of Vale, but the threat of an attack was unlikely. Dad begun teaching my older sisters how to fight. It did not interest me one bit.
When I turned eight, I asked if I could watch. Mom protested, but Dad thought it be educational. Watching Dad spar thrilled me in a way I couldn't understand at that age. There was no way I could spin, twist, and lung, to make a sword an extension of my body. One day, Dad asked if I could spar with him. I declined. If I did, Mom would hit me and put me in a corner with no dinner. Growing up, Mom was very protective of me, she always told me to stay away when Dad and my sisters were training. I never understood why. Dad met Mom during combat school after they graduated from Beacon; they agreed to settle down and have a family. When Dad got called back to service, he left home to fight against the White Fang over West. Mom did not hear from him. When he returned, he was considered a hero. Couple weeks later, I was born. At least, that's what Mom told me.
I continued through my practice, the ghosts of my family seemed to surround me. I licked my lips and tasted the salt of my own sweat and tears. I hoped that if anyone watched me, the extra moisture on my face would be indistinguishable from the perspiration dripping down my neck. My muscles were on fire, my whole body cried out from the exertion, but it wasn't enough to drive the pain from my heart.
Maybe I could have saved them, if I had just gotten a little stronger.
I wiped my face with my sleeve when there was a shout from across the training ground.
"Jaune! Come, quick!"
I turned to see Nora running towards me. I picked up my sword, shoving it into the scabbard hooked around my waist.
"Nora, what's up?"
She stopped halfway to where I stood, my hand instinctively going to the hilt of my sword again. "Every student are called to the amphitheater. Someone tried to kill Ozpin."
