Pyrrha composed herself while walking into the auditorium. The room had become familiar to her over the last few days as the fights progressed. So many tests of strength, displays of talent, and showcases of ability were expressed on that stage. She had seen, and participated in, quite a few of these matches.

And all she had to show for her effort in the matches was her name near the very bottom of the scoreboard.

Pyrrha sighed when the listings of their ranks were shown on the board, as they had been each day prior. It was still early in the semester, but the rankings had started to become more solidified. The top few fighters- Yang, Cardin, Nora, and then a fourth fighter named Crystal- sat at the top of the leaderboard. Of course… Yang's still at the top. Of course she is. She hasn't really found another opponent who could best her yet. She has a great deal of raw strength that could serve her well in the future.

In the middle, she looked and found names she knew, like the rest of Team RWBY. Ruby was at the top of the three, with Weiss and Blake shuffling not far under their leader. They had taken some wins, but each had a defeat or two along the way. Ruby had a nasty fight with her own sister which led to her being easily tossed aside, but she otherwise had skated through the week without much issue.

Towards the lower middle of the rankings, she noticed Ren. Ren, Ren, Ren… you're getting better, but you've had bad luck with some of your matchups. I mean… Yang and Crystal two days in a row.

Then, at the very bottom of the entire scoreboard, was her name. Pyrrha Nikos, etched in that accursed font lining everything Beacon-related, with nothing but losses. It was a reminder of all that she had carried over to the academy: "The Weakling of Sanctum", a title she had given herself, was beginning to come true again, in her eyes.

She looked over to her partner, Jaune. He seemed unaffected by the scoreboard, eyes smoldering with a determination that would only be satiated with one outcome: victory. Pyrrha felt embarrassed, in comparison, especially in the fact that all she had to show for her work in Beacon was a string of failures. A string of defeats.

She felt a hand rest on her shoulder. Ren. She turned her head to look at the stoic boy. "I… think I can finally do it." She meekly let out, trying to find her internal footing. It did not help that she had, amongst all the cheering and shouting, jeers that were constantly slung from the back of the stadium every time she fought. Cardin and his cohorts made her the subject of a great deal of verbal abuse, while always confidently relaxed into the wall in the back of the stands.

As the rest of her classmates shuffled into the arena, she could only focus on their words on the matchups. Her name came up in a few conversations, but, from what she could make out, it was over hopefulness that they would face her.

Ren's hand had continued to rest on her a few moments, she began to feel a little bit better, as if her emotions suddenly seemed to… level out. Pyrrha was unsure what made her feel better, but she did not question the positivity she was able to feel.

"Are you ready to win, guys?" Nora's shout of confidence made Pyrrha smile for a short moment, but then the negative feelings quickly returned.

"Yeah…" Pyrrha raised her fist, a small smile forced on her face.

Nora began to say something, but then the voice of Goodwitch echoed through the room.

"Good morning, students." Everyone immediately shut up. Pyrrha sighed, content to have the conversations floating around immediately silenced by the disciplinarian.

"I trust the weekend has allowed you all to rest from your battles and… think… about your strategies for the coming matches." Goodwitch pointed her crop towards the crowd. "I trust that everyone has come prepared for whatever can be thrown at them. As usual, I wish for you to see these matches as a means to show you what your issues are. Do not take individual losses to heart, but be aware that consistent failure will not be sufficiently tolerated without improvement." Pyrrha could only gulp at that last comment. I know, Professor Goodwitch.

With that, Goodwitch pulled out her scroll and began pushing buttons. The scoreboard began to disappear and was replaced with two rapidly scrolling vertical wheels. The wheels had Pyrrha's heart drop, with anticipation and a sort of excitement over the first match of the evening.

The first wheel stopped, and the halting of the wheel made Pyrrha feel as if her whole being halted. It was her.

"Pyrrha Nikos." Well, guess I'm going first today...

She got up, beginning to move towards the stage, stepping over feet to get to the steps. Pyrrha nervously watched the right side of the board, waiting to see whom she would be facing. Oh, gosh, I hope it's an easier opponent…

"Cardin Winchester." Oh no… Well, there goes all pretense of winning.

Pyrrha took the aching steps towards the stage, her entire being quivering. Another defeat… isn't it? Getting a lot of those lately, haven't I?

Cardin's loud, thunderous steps followed her much daintier steps to the arena. Each took their place on either side of the center of the arena, where Goodwitch would stand and run through her normal spiel. Pyrrha tuned out of it; she had heard it many times before. What interested her, what she focused on, was what Cardin wielded. That Mace. She had seen it easily tear through his competition, either with swift strikes to bare flesh or with the dust discharges that would whittle them down. His in-your-face style reminded her of Yang's style, but…

"3!" The countdown snapped her back into reality. I missed most of it? Pyrrha frantically pulled out her weapons, feeling Milo's width expand and Akouo barely getting onto her hands with a shaky grip.

"1! Begin!" Goodwitch's voice echoed through the chamber as it joined in with the rest.

Pyrrha barely had time to dodge before a blast from the crystal in Cardin's Mace came zooming towards her face. She got to running and dodging, weaving through blast after blast. With each discharge, Pyrrha tried to get closer, but the successive blasts always sent her reeling away.

Pyrrha heard Cardin laugh. "Come on! Show me what you got! You can't win by just running away!" A moment in-between the blasts gave Pyrrha what felt like crucial moments to get close.

Pyrrha's temper flared after the taunt. She made a break for Cardin, Milo clutched in her fist. She sent her javelin flying at Cardin and made a run for him.

Cardin, however, simply batted the weapon to the side with his Mace and sent a shot at Pyrrha. She could do nothing but use Akouo to block the fire. With her shaky block, Pyrrha barely kept a grasp of her trusty shield.

Pyrrha went for her javelin, rushing away from Cardin to try and regain her footing.

"Oh, no you don't!" Cardin rushed in front of her, blocking her path with his form. "If you're going to beat me, do it without your weak weaponry." He took a swung at her with his Mace, which Pyrrha barely avoided.

Oh no… I can't get my weapons! She sighed, shaking her head trying to rack up a solution. None came to her mind except just to fight without it.

"YOU CAN DO IT, PYRRHA!" She heard Nora's voice scream out above the general crowd, which had turned into a hushed whisper over the nature of what the battle had become. She didn't hear Ren or Jaune, but she knew that Ren wasn't one for cheers and she presumed that Jaune wasn't one for it either.

Pyrrha mustered up all of her courage and then rushed straight into Cardin.

"Wrong choice." Cardin bashed his Mace right into Pyrrha's shield, knocking it right out of her hand. Immediately afterwards, he swung the Mace right into Pyrrha herself, sending the girl waywards across the arena.

Upon hitting the ground, Pyrrha looked up at her aura. It was firmly in the yellow, but she saw Professor Goodwitch walk up to the stage.

"Miss Nikos is in no condition to continue the fight. It would be aimless to stretch this out further. Mister Winchester is the victor of this battle." Her curt voice preceded the roaring cheers of the crowd. As it began to build up, Goodwitch focused directly on Pyrrha. "Miss Nikos, I know you are trying, but please show some further improvement in the future. You have the potential to be a wonderful Huntress, but focusing on just the mind is not what you need to do. A great tactician is wonderful on the battlefield, but is useless without the training and physical prowess to hold their own."

Pyrrha nodded. She picked up Akouo and dusted it off. "You did well." She talked softly to her shield. Next was Milo, which was still guarded by a jovial Cardin Winchester. She walked up to Milo, but was blocked by Cardin Winchester.

"Good fight." This was succeeded by a laugh. "Oh, who am I kidding? You're going to need a lot of work if you even think that you're worthy of being the partner of anyone here." With that, Cardin walked away and back to his group. Pyrrha solemnly picked up Milo and gave it the same treatment that she gave to Akouo. After that, she quietly returned to her seat, a weak smile becoming a facade to hide her internal sorrows.

Upon sitting down, a large hand rested itself on her shoulder. Normally, she would think it was Ren, knowing his propensity to do so with Nora on moments when she would begin to freak out. But, turning to face the owner of the hand, Pyrrha found out that it belonged to Jaune.

"Good try. You'll do better next time." Pyrrha felt a little bit of comfort from the solace that Jaune brought to her. The bitter taste of defeat still lingered in her mouth, however, as Cardin's words cut deep.

I need to put him in his place. She took in a deep breath, absentmindedly brushing remaining molecules of dust from Milo and Akouo, and turned her head to the front to focus on the matches yet to come.


The other fights went on rather smoothly. Nora faced Weiss, which came out as a close victory in Nora's favor. Even Pyrrha had been surprised; Weiss turned out to be a very strong fighter, even against a bruiser like Nora. Blake and Ruby won their fights, with Ruby handily dispatching Russel Thrush and Blake narrowly edging out a victory against a girl named Teal.

Soon, the fight possibilities began to dwindle down. The fights seemed to be coming to an end, and Jaune still hadn't fought. He could only have a few different options left on the table, including...

"Yang Xiao Long!" The boisterous girl's picture froze on the left wheel, and, with that, Yang was quickly up to the arena. Pyrrha heard a distant, "Let's do this!" And watched as Yang punched her fists together a few times. A few cheers erupted from the crowd, notably from Ruby, who was shouting loudly above the rest. Well, that's probably not the best option for someone who was injured most of the last week. I hope he'll do alright...

The second wheel kept spinning. Pyrrha knew that, having not yet faced Yang, she was in the rankings to face the fist fighter. She gulped as she noticed the red blur show up again, knowing exactly who that picture belongs to.

But, as it were, Pyrrha had a stroke of luck. As the second wheel slowed down, it passed her face. She knew it would not choose her to fight. But, as it stopped, the team leader suddenly felt her heart drop.

"Jaune Arc!" The wheel had chosen Jaune to face her. Pyrrha looked over to Jaune, whose face burned with anticipation, but also a bit of surprise.

"Good luck, Jaune! I know you'll do just fine out there." Pyrrha's smiled seemed to do little to Jaune, who slowly cantered down the steps. As he entered the arena, another few cheers erupted, mostly from Nora and from the back. Pyrrha turned her head around and saw Cardin's team hooting and hollering for Jaune.

As Jaune made it to the Arena and took out his weapon, the cheering stopped. Unlike Yang, Jaune made no fanfare. He just simply got into his stance in anticipation of the battle. The blonde girl, who had stopped punching her fists together, swished her hair back and cracked her knuckles.

Goodwitch's voice resonated through the halls, as it always had before every first match. "As with every class, the same rules apply. Do not have any intent to maim, intentionally injure, or kill your classmates. No cheap shots…" The professor glared at Yang. "Do not use any weapons other than your own, but, other than that, anything goes."

The professor stepped back towards the bleachers and pressed more buttons on her scroll. A countdown timer appeared above her, ticking down from 10 seconds. Yang got into a stance with her right foot out forward and her left foot out back, her arms clutched back as if to throw a punch. Jaune kept his stance, his shield covering his left flank and his sword clutched in his right hand.

The crowd seemed to follow the countdown, chanting the numbers as they neared zero. "...5!...4!...3!...2!...1!..." A siren indicated that the countdown was over.

Yang immediately used her arm gauntlets to propel herself forward, priming to throw a punch straight to Jaune. Punch met shield, and a clash had begun. Jaune took quite a few blows. Although many punches did, in fact, connect, very few did much to actually affect Jaune. He was mostly blocking their blows, but, with each connection, Jaune's shield began to wobble ever more.

That's weird. Why isn't Jaune attacking as much as he did against the Grimm? Pyrrha pondered as she watched the match. She began to cheer her partner on, although her eyes kept affixed on the movements each fighter made. It came to her attention that Jaune was almost exclusively on the defensive while Yang came with swift strikes. The cheers erupted around her, each blow only heightening said cheers. He surely can't keep that up… Her musing went unheeded; only a single strike came from Jaune's blade- a smack with the side which sent Yang sprawling- broke the rather one -sided bombardment. This attack took a small, but solid chunk out of her already slowly depleting aura, but it seemed to not faze her. Each punch Yang threw seemed to grow stronger, and, with each punch, Jaune seemed to lose more ground. The bombshell began to near the yellow section of the aura, but Jaune's aura was starting to fall and match hers.

Oh… so her aura depletes as she attacks… Pyrrha suddenly realized the manner of Jaune's staking out: If he tires her out, he can more easily go for the kill. But his window of opportunity began to dwindle. One of Yang's punches knocked him from his stance, and he faltered a step or two.

"Come on, Jaune! Let's see what you can do!" Pyrrha found herself screaming, mixing her voice into the voices of so many others who watched this fight unfold.

Yang took advantage of this. Rushing into Jaune, she sent a left hook straight into his left arm, sending the shield flying off the stage. The girl then used her momentum, hair beginning to slowly burn behind her, to send a dust-powered jab right into Jaune's gut, which glowed that same pearly white that Pyrrha remembered. At that moment, both flew in the opposite direction. Jaune was sent sliding back, losing his balance and falling right on his bottom. Yang was sent spiraling backward as well, rolling across the floor before coming to a stop.

Pyrrha looked at each of their auras. Each bar rested firmly in the yellow, showing the power that each fighter contained. What worried her was the hit that Jaune seemed to take from that connection, his aura having taken a steep hit. The cheers had turned to silence. An anticipation swelled within the crowd, one that Pyrrha could feel and herself expressed.

Yang was the first to rise from the connection, shaking her right hand. Her eyes burned red, and her hair seemed to burst into flames. Her fists pulled back, her gauntlets priming themselves for another attack.

Jaune, on the other hand, slowly rose up, clutching his gut with his right hand. Each movement seemed cumbersome, from the slow grasp of his sword with his left hand to the staggering return to his feet.

Pyrrha stopped for just a moment. Left hand? But he uses his right hand… Her thought processes were rather confused. Whatever thoughts she was to have after were lost as the crowd itself drowned them out.

Yang's launch was a blur. Pyrrha had seen this before: Yang would leave her opponents defenseless, weakening and disarming them with fisticuffs, and then go in for a singular punch to end the fight. This was nothing new, something that seemed to be a constant with the bombshell's fights.

"Yeah! You can do it, sis!" Ruby's innocent cheer cut through even the loudest voices. Pyrrha couldn't help but smile. The girl is dedicated to her sister…

But, Jaune straightened himself at the last moment. He cocked his fist back, not unlike how Yang had done so with her fist. Instead of throwing a punch, however, he threw his forearm in the direction of Yang.

Yang's fist then collided with that forearm, creating a shockwave that sent Jaune's sword out of his hand, the grip having weakened from the collision, crashing against the hard ground. Upon seeing that Yang's punch was stopped, many spectators collectively gasped. Pyrrha eyed the scoreboard and saw that both of them took a pretty big hit from that. Both were on a low yellow, and it looked as if the end of the fight would come down to what came next.

Jaune was finally taking the offensive, sending a hard kick into Yang's left side. Yang winced as the kick sent her down to the ground. The kick took a good deal out of Jaune as well, as he went to the ground not long after her. Yang lay slumped over, her body laying on her side, with her left hand resting inside of her golden locks and her right hand dangling over her hips and across her stomach. Jaune himself was on all fours, heavily breathing, but he still stayed up, no matter how little he had left.

"The match is over." Came from Goodwitch, whose word was law in the arena… and, well, everywhere else. "The victor is Mr. Arc."

Pyrrha felt a swell of contentment with the victory. It was Jaune's first match and, with such an opponent, he put up a wonderful fight and came out victorious. Her sentiment was shared, it seemed: The entire crowd uproared in applause. Nora cheered wildly, and Ren respectfully clapped for the performance.

Jaune rose up, clutching his right shoulder. He shook it around and winced a little in pain. Goodwitch was receptive of his outcry and was frantically typing on her scroll.

Pyrrha could only watch as Jaune was pointed out of the room. I guess he may have hurt something… maybe they're just taking caution. Yeah, could just be that. But I'm worried about him now…


After the class, Pyrrha didn't even focus on getting lunch. She left the arena and headed straight for the gym, lying that she left something in the dorm and that she would catch Nora and Ren later.

I know I need to prove myself… Another punch rang against the dummy. Pyrrha let all of the latent frustration built up within her out on these dummies. It was the only way she felt she could actually express it; blowing it out on her teammates would be a waste of time and, as a leader, she could not let them see her like that.

Tears streamed down her face. Thank the stars I don't ever wear makeup… Each punch began to feel weaker. Pyrrha knew that she could only hold up her strength for so long.

"I can't tolerate weakness." She sighed, her last punch faltering and leaving her standing in front of the dummy, arms resting by her side, chest rising and falling with each ragged, tired breath. "I can't… I need to prove that I'm good as his partner."

She walked away from the dummy and sat down in a cross-legged fashion, eyes never drifting from its featureless gaze.

Looking into it, Pyrrha saw two faces staring back at her.

The first was Cardin's, the face of contempt. The voice of division and opposition, the voice that brought her internal strife and pain. The voice that reminded her that she wasn't yet good enough… perhaps she wouldn't ever be.

The second was that of Jaune, her partner, the face of… well, Pyrrha couldn't quite place it. The voice of reconciliation and partnership, the voice that brought her comfort, despite his distant nature. But it also seemed to be the face of confusion and anxiety, the emotions that Pyrrha chiefly felt towards her partner.

What was she to think?

"Hey, Pyrrha," said second face's voice cut through her thoughts like the sharpest sword and dragged Pyrrha back into reality.

"Oh, Jaune!" She feigned a smile, using a hand swiping away hair to wipe away any stray tears.

In Jaune's hand, there was what seemed to be a sandwich wrapped up. He was no longer dressed in his armor, instead wearing a pair of black pants and a hoodie with a picture of a… cute bunny on it? Pyrrha couldn't help but chuckle.

"Ren and Nora… and Team RWBY... told me to go find you and bring this to you." He sighed. "Said that 'you were my partner and it was my duty to make sure you got food'. So… here. A sandwich. I also have some fruit in my pack." Upon noticing Pyrrha chuckling, Jaune's face contorted into one of rage. "Hey! Why are you laughing?!"

"I just… never thought… you'd be one to wear a hoodie like that!" Pyrrha continued to laugh between words before beginning to cough, her tiredness and exertion catching up to her.

"I… got it through a cereal company. It was free, so why not?" Hearing this only caused Pyrrha to laugh further and cough further. Seriously?

"...Are you okay?" Jaune's raised eyebrow brought Pyrrha to stop laughing, which only left her coughing for a moment.

"Yeah. I've been… practicing." She took a moment to find the best word for the situation. She didn't want to make him worry and tell him the truth, so she settled for the best possible replacement.

Jaune reached into his pack and pulled out a small container with some blackberries and blueberries as well as a small bottle of water. "Here. I brought you some food." He sat down the food and drink next to Pyrrha, and she happily partook in it.

"Thanks!" Each bite was blissful to the tired, hungry girl. After exerting herself, believing that she didn't do enough in the arena to justify rest, a respite and a meal felt comforting to Pyrrha.

"Was… this why you collapsed on the bed a few days ago?" Jaune quipped, breaking the bliss that the food carried with it.

"Uh…" What should I do? He might think something is up… Should I tell him anything? "I was just… practicing." Pyrrha shook a little bit, nervous as could be over how her partner could respond to that answer.

"Ah, it's good that you were practicing. Practicing what?" Jaune responded absentmindedly. Pyrrha was a little shocked. She expected a 'why', knowing that they had just come from a sparring class… But questioning what I was doing?

"My punches and stuff like that. My form isn't great. I haven't really been winning much." Pyrrha stammered, unsure how to respond to what she was asked. "You… saw me out there. I was tossed about by Cardin like a lil' tumbleweed in the dust." Her accent came out, something that she found out began to die out the longer she stayed at school. It still came out from time to time, though, especially when she was tired.

"You did fine. You just need a little work." Jaune's gruff response elicited a little bit of shame from Pyrrha.

"Could you… help me out, Jaune?" Pyrrha gave in, knowing she wouldn't get anywhere without help from someone… anyone…

"I could, but, for your style, I don't think I am the best one to assist in your current stylistic problems. I can help you with your strength, but I don't think you'd benefit from learning my style." A small chuckle came from Jaune.

"Why can't you help me? I saw how you were able to block the shot." Pyrrha almost shouted in the face of her partner, which brought a grimace from him.

"I was taught that. Rather recently, actually." Jaune's response confused Pyrrha. Wasn't that all him?

"By who?"

"Ren."


A/N: Going into this next little section is going to be difficult; I'm having to make some tough decisions in order to make the story run as smoothly as possible and to develop stories and plotlines.

Still, as always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Leave any praise or criticism in the Reviews, if you'd like.

-C. Exodia