Hey all, back again with another chapter!
This one's got a little more build up to some future events rather than any real action, but I guess you guys will see for yourselves, hey?
Pyrrha stood rigidly, breathing heavily with one foot planted firmly on the arena floor, the other planted firmly between her opponent's bust. With Miló in it's rifle form, the girl sighted down the barrel... though she didn't need to. At their current distance, Pyrrha couldn't possibly miss.
Not that the champion would have ever pulled the trigger. Just as Pyrrha couldn't miss with the end of the barrel inches from the lilac eyed girl's forehead, there was no way she could be sure Yang's Aura would have protected from such a fatal shot. Especially after such a hard fought, drawn out fight – Pyrrha wasn't even able to keep track of her own Aura.
The blonde underfoot eyed the business end of Miló warily. After a second's hesitation, Yang raised her hands over her head, resting them on the ground, palms exposed. "I give."
Pyrrha moved Miló almost instantaneously. No matter what, it would always feel wrong for the redhead to hold another at gunpoint; even in previous tournament matches with... less than honorable opponents, doing so had made her uncomfortable.
Of course, none of those matches were nearly as close as the one she'd just fought.
"Well done, both of you." Goodwitch complimented, a rare smile on her face as the previously dim arena began to light up. "I must say, a rematch of that fight during the Vytal Festival Tournament will surely be a crowd favorite. Miss Xiao Long..." The professor turned towards the brawler, who Pyrrha had just finished helping up. "While your style revolves around getting close to your opponent, you need to know when it's a good time to back off and engage at range."
"Got it."
"Miss Nikos. Excellent job as always."
Pyrrha smiled, though it was a little strained. "Thank you, Professor Goodwitch."
The 'Invincible Girl' turned, walking astride Yang. "I'll get you next time, Pyrrha."
"I'm looking forward to it."
Pyrrha actually was, too; Out of all of Beacon's first years – anyone she'd fought, anyone she'd seen fight – Yang was the only one who actually seemed to have a fair chance at winning against her.
And in a way, Pyrrha longed for that.
She didn't want to lose, oh no. Pyrrha loved winning, she always had: she loved having the announcer cry her name – she loved hearing the crowd chant as she was crowned victorious.
But, at Beacon, there was no crowd cheering – just the chatter of the students watching and their dull applause when she won. There was no announcer, hyped up, roaring into the microphone – just Miss Goodwitch, telling her she did an 'excellent job'. As always.
Beacon was a school – Pyrrha was there to learn. She wanted someone to find flaw with how she fought... she wanted Goodwitch to see something she had been doing wrong and give her advice. Anything. She didn't want to lose... but she wanted to be defeated.
There was an old saying her mother had always been fond of: "Only through loss can one improve. Mistakes are lessons to be learned from... That's why we never forget them."
Pyrrha didn't make mistakes; she hadn't made any for a long time.
But Pyrrha still wanted to improve
"Nice fight, Yang. You too, Pyrrha."
The redhead looked up at the words that were more a courtesy than anything. With a smile, Pyrrha acknowledged the speaker. "Thanks Weiss." Sitting in her previously vacant seat, Pyrrha received a nod from Jaune, the boy not looking up from his scroll, and a congratulatory pat on the shoulder from Nora.
"Despite that lengthy fight, we do have time for two more matches." Goodwitch called out, scanning the crowd before looking down at her scroll, likely checking to see who hadn't fought in a while. "Could Jau- Blake Belladonna and Cardin Winchester come to the floor please?"
The bookworm of team RWBY hopped to her feet. "Wish me luck..."
"Nah, you're not going to need it." Yang quipped back, smiling while taking her seat next to Ruby.
Out of the corner of her eye, Pyrrha could see Jaune look up from his scroll for but a second, before returning his attention to it, frowning. It wasn't like Miss Goodwitch to make a slip up like she had, but then again, having a student incapacitated for so long was probably rather unusual.
It wasn't as if Jaune was actually still injured. In the past three days, Jaune had long since recovered from his and Weiss' trek into the Emerald Forest. The faint pink line at the edge of his hairline still remained, but otherwise he was in perfect health.
Well... almost perfect: Despite the three days of recovery time - with Pyrrha absolutely sure Jaune was doing no physical activity any more strenuous than walking – his Aura still hadn't fully recovered. The championship fighter wasn't sure if that because his Aura had been constantly at work healing his wounds, or if the sheer amount of Aura he'd had naturally had an effect on how long it took to recover. Or maybe it was because he was drained all the way down to zero percent.
She shook her head; now wasn't the time to be worried about her partner. He was safe now.
Pyrrha turned her eyes back to the floor, seeing Blake and Cardin preparing to fight. Well, if she couldn't make mistakes on her own, she'd just have to learn from the mistakes of others.
The four-time Mistral regional champion smiled to herself. 'I'm not cocky...'
"Ha, this should be over quick."
'...At least, not like Cardin is.'
It wasn't like the mace wielder had no reason to be cocky – he'd won just as many matches as any other member of either RWBY or JNPR, with the exception of Jaune. The only reason for that, though, was that Cardin was consistently put up against many people who were weak against his particular style – including Jaune.
In fact, that seemed to be a recurring theme in the first year's combat class: Cardin's matches were technically never lopsided, but more often than not, it was easy to tell the leader of CRDL was going to win. Pyrrha had elected to stay behind one day to ask Goodwitch why she always set the boy's matches up that way.
But what Pyrrha hadn't expected was an answer. She'd expected to be turned away.
"Someone like Cardin is doing more good by winning against those I match him up with. I try to arrange matches so both the winner and the loser has something to gain from every match, but that is not always the case. You no doubt know that yourself, correct Miss Nikos?"
The words had confused Pyrrha at first. In fact, they still did; someone like Cardin clearly still had a lot to learn about fighting.
But then, Pyrrha's eyes roamed over to Cardin's opponent, Blake. She seemed unfazed by the large male's comment, simply readying her weapon.
For the first time, Pyrrha was unsure who would win.
Perhaps Cardin would learn something today.
Idly, Pyrrha's eyes strayed from the arena floor, back to her partner – still on his scroll. Jaune was a prime example of learning from his mistakes and mishaps, learning from his losses. He took quite the beating from Yang that one class – then miraculously, her leader managed to bruise her in a spar a few days later, though Pyrrha only saw the result, and not the cause.
It had been a long time since he'd fought Cardin. She had to wonder if Jaune would have been capable of teaching Cardin a lesson too, had he been able.
All thanks to Weiss...
Pyrrha was, of course, thankful for the girl's intervention – or rather, for her agreeing to train Jaune when he asked. Of course, there was still a light pang in her chest at the thought: Jaune didn't trust her to help him out. She was still a little disappointed that her partner hadn't come to her first instead... after he'd explained why that one afternoon, Pyrrha tried to understand.
But she just couldn't.
...Had she failed as a partner?
"Begin!"
Rather than turning to watch the fight start, Pyrrha kept her eyes on Jaune – the boy not even showing the slightest interest what was going on around him.
The redhead frowned. She figured that Jaune would actually be paying attention to the fight, considering he'd nearly been called down himself. She had to admit, it was a little odd that the blond was so busy on his scroll. Typically, even when it was people they barely knew, Jaune would always be paying attention to the fights in combat class, watching studiously.
Then, Pyrrha saw Weiss lean towards Jaune. Blake had been sitting between the two originally, so with her seat empty, the heiress could see clearly what Jaune had been up to. Weiss had a frown that mirrored Pyrrha's own. Clearly, she'd been thinking along the same lines.
But rather than reprimanding Jaune, as Pyrrha had been expecting, Weiss' expression went from disappointed, to intrigued – the white haired girl quickly moved to occupy Blake's empty seat, looking at Jaune's scroll with as much interest as the blond had been.
Finding Weiss' actions rather peculiar, Pyrrha herself leaned back, trying to see Jaune's scroll over his shoulder. It didn't help that her partner had tilted it further away from her so that Weiss could see it better.
They were... watching a video? Pyrrha leaned a little closer, seeing a boy swing a mace through a girl who seemed to vanish into thin air.
To her shame, it took Pyrrha a moment to realize that the boy with the mace was Cardin, and the girl was Blake.
'Wait a minute...' Blake and Cardin moved off the screen, and Jaune tilted his scroll again, the duo suddenly reappearing.
He was... recording their fight?
Pyrrha brought a hand to her face, hiding her eyes in embarrassment. 'Of course he's recording their fight... how stupid of me. I even thought he was tilting his scroll towards Weiss.'
There was a loud clang, followed by the sound of a weapon clattering on the floor. "I yield!"
The champion looked up as quick as she could. All she saw was Blake sheathing her blade, and Cardin's mace on the floor. That was quick. She let out a breath, whispering to herself. "Ah, I missed it."
Apparently, she hadn't kept quiet enough: "You did?" Jaune asked, incredulous. "Here, I've got it recorded if you want to take a look. I got your fight against Yang too – the whole thing. All of the fights today, actually."
...Pyrrha hadn't even noticed him doing it before her fight.
Pyrrha smiled as honestly as she could. "Sure."
She couldn't have asked for a better partner.
It was herself that was going to have to do better.
Weiss bit back a yawn, pushing her way into the teacher's lounge. Again, the room was unoccupied, being so early in the morning. The door swung closed behind her – heavier for some reason. Stretching her arms high above her head, Weiss made her way over to the coffee machine, intent on getting to work. She smiled, however, noticing that not only had the coffee already been made, but there were two cups ready for her convenience.
Well, probably not for her convenience, strictly speaking. It was the teacher's lounge, after all. Regardless, the heiress poured the coffee, doctoring it up just the way she liked it.
Satisfied with a job well done, the heiress picked up the coffee, moving towards the exit. As she got closer to the door, Weiss realized she had her hands full. She looked around, for a table or something that might be nearby.
"Here, allow me to get that for you."
The heiress took a short step back, allowing the headmaster to reach for the door handle. "Thank you very much, Professor Ozpin."
"Anytime, Miss Schnee."
With her path clear, the heiress stepped through the doorway. The door clicked closed behind her, but she paid it no mind, intent on making her way to the training room as quickly as possible.
The heiress stopped in the middle of the building's lobby. Turning, she looking back towards the teacher's lounge. Her blue eyes blinked. Not once, but twice. With the sun not even showing any actual signs of rising, Beacon's halls were dimly lit. In fact, it was a little eerie. Weiss shivered, a sudden, stiff breeze hitting her legs.
'Alright. Time to go then.'
It didn't take long for Weiss to reach the training room her and Jaune had claimed as 'theirs'. Not only could Weiss probably make it there blindfolded, but in an effort to even further refine her control over her semblance, she used her glyphs to move even faster.
With a faint shimmer at her feet, Weiss stopped in front of the sliding doors, jarred slightly open with the light within pouring out.
...and the heiress faced the same conundrum she had earlier – she had nowhere to put the two cups of coffee, aside from the floor, and the door wasn't quite open enough for her to manage it with them in hand.
"Here, allow me to get that for you."
The heiress took a short step back, allowing the headmaster to pull the sliding door aside. "Thank you, Professor Ozpin."
"Anytime, Miss Schnee."
Weiss took a step forwards, about to pass forward into the light, when she froze. She turned towards the tall headmaster, standing there with a cup of coffee of his own in his hands, half shrouded in darkness.
'Wait a minute...'
"I've got a lot of paperwork to get through, Miss Schnee, did you need something?" The man stared at her through his glasses, though his eyes were impassive. He certainly didn't seem like he was in a hurry. In fact, it was almost as if he wanted her to ask him something.
"I... uhh..." The heiress looked past the headmaster, back the way she came. "Were you just in the teacher's lounge?"
"Indeed I was." The man took a sip of his own cup. "There's not much to do this early in the morning... Aside from paperwork, that is. Of course, as headmaster, I am also responsible for Beacon's students. As very few students are typically awake at this hour, I endeavor to get as much paperwork done as possible. But all the same, at these same hours, if a student needs help, I am capable of being there at a moment's notice. After all, while it is my job to look after Beacon in it's entirety, Beacon would not exist if it were not for it's students."
The enigmatic headmaster tilted his mug back once more. "Is that all, Miss Schnee?"
"...I think so, ye-"
"Good! I will take my leave then. Enjoy your morning training with Mr. Arc."
Without waiting for a response, Ozpin turned, walking steadily, his cane clacking along side him all the while. Weiss felt like it took forever, but she finally saw the headmaster dip around the corner, his cane letting out one final 'clack'.
Something... itched at Weiss. She wanted so badly to go and see if the headmaster had actually stopped around the corner, or if he was just... gone. Seconds ticked by.
With a shrug – still managing to not spill the coffee – Weiss ducked into the training room.
Jaune was laying on one of the many benches, scroll held up above him. For a second, Weiss wondered how long he'd been like that. As she got closer, Weiss saw signs that he'd been working physically – his water bottle wasn't full, his skin was flushed, and his clothes looked like they were slightly damp.
"Watching the fights again?" The heiress called out, getting Jaune to glance away from his scroll.
"Yeah." The blond pushed himself up, moving over so that Weiss could sit as well, though there was lots of room on the bench. "How does Pyrrha do that one thing with her legs?"
Weiss raised an eyebrow. "You mean where she tripped Yang? You're nowhere near fast enough to pull that off, and it would only work on a fist fighter who relies on getting up close like Yang."
The knight slid his scroll shut. "I know I can't do it. I'm just more curious as to how."
"I can show you later, if you really want." Weiss offered. She might not have been an expert in the wild yet technical style Pyrrha seemed to emulate, but she knew a couple things; enough to give just a few pointers, anyways. She held up a cup for Jaune to take. "But first, coffee."
Jaune looked surprised. "You brought me one?"
"I did."
The blond accepted, looking into the liquid as if it were gold. "Thanks, Weiss."
It was as Jaune raised the cup to his lips, that Weiss noticed something: a faint pink outline around the rim.
That had been her cup.
And for some reason, that made her... nervous?
'Please don't notice, please don't notice...'
Jaune's eyes seemed to widen as he took a sip. He pulled the mug away from his lips. "Hey, this is perfect! How'd you know how I like my coffee?"
"I..." Weiss couldn't just tell him that he'd drank from her cup. She took a sip from the remaining cup, before remembering that she'd made both coffees the exact same – how she herself liked it.
The boy sitting beside her stared at her simply, a grateful smile upon his face. Did Jaune think that she knew... that she remembered how he made his coffee at the café that day?
"It was an accident, actually." Weiss mentioned honestly. Jaune's lips seemed to twitch. 'I messed up...'
'Wait, why do I care what he thinks?' "I made both cups the same." Weiss tacked on at the end.
For some reason, Jaune's smile seemed to grow at that. "Two sugars, no cream?"
Surprised, Weiss nodded.
Jaune spread his arms out wide, chuckling, coffee almost spilling out of what was now his cup. "That's how I take my coffee!" Bringing the mug to his lips once more, he took a longer sip. Breathing out a equally long sigh, Jaune turned his head skyward. "It's good stuff."
Weiss nodded, crossing her legs as she took another sip.
For a couple moments, the two slowly worked at their coffee, Weiss savoring not only the brew, but her friend's silent company.
Her... friend. They'd established themselves as such earlier, on the very bench they sat on now. Back then, it had been 'official': they'd declared it, but it never really felt like it.
Now Weiss knew, though, after all they'd been through together, sweat, blood, and tears; Jaune was her friend.
They both remained silent for minutes longer, the clock burning seconds away.
"So when did you figure out you liked coffee?" Jaune quizzed, looking down at the nearly empty mug in his hands.
"Hmm... I think I was six when I first had coffee."
"Six?"
"Yes, six." Weiss confirmed. Was that so odd? "And I hated it. My father had left a mug on the table when he was working, and, well, back then..."
'Back then I wanted to be like him...'
"You got curious?" Jaune supplied, unknowingly providing an alibi.
"Yeah. My father drank his coffee black though, so when I tried another cup later, I sweetened it and I found it delicious. Yourself?"
"I... I didn't have coffee until about a year ago. One day, just decided I'd make a cup. My father always put a lot of sugar into his, so I did the same."
It sounded like the complete opposite of what happened with Weiss. "And...?"
"I put a lot of sugar. Most of it didn't even dissolve, even when I stirred it. The coffee ended up more like a syrup than anything. I was jittery for hours; I definitely learned my lesson."
Weiss let out a light chuckle. "I guess we both found our happy medium then?"
The knight tilted his cup back fully, draining the rest of its contents. Letting out the deep breath he'd been holding, he stood, stretching. "Yeah, seems like it." Jaune's back popped, and the blond let out a sigh. "You remember what Goodwitch said about Forever Fall?"
Weiss looked to the clock – Jaune likely wanted to get to work... they'd spent a little too long relaxing. "Yeah, of course I do. Our teams agreed to stick together on the trip, right?"
Jaune hummed an affirmative. "Me and Ruby thought it would be for the best. The trip's still two weeks away, but I want to be sure we don't have a repeat of our latest venture out into a Grimm infested forest. Sounds good to you?"
Weiss nodded in agreement, finishing her own cup."Yeah, of course. But before we get to our regular training, I need your help with something else first."
Her friend turned, an eyebrow quirked.
"I'm not going to like this, am I?"
Weiss had proven Jaune wrong; he was really enjoying helping her with her training.
It wasn't like Jaune wanted Weiss to be frustrated; far from it. ...It was just a refreshing change to not be the target of her ire, or have her constantly wearing him down.
"That's still not right!" The girl complained, the glow beneath Jaune's feet disappearing. The girl raised her rapier, a glyph appearing again before Jaune. "Step."
Jaune stepped forward, following Weiss' command.
"Step."
Jaune stepped again, suddenly a yard or two further from where he was before, though he hadn't really moved that distance.
The blond watched as Weiss repeated the same motions; creating the glyph, stepping into it, and then stepping in the same direction Jaune had.
Only, she barely moved an inch.
She would have moved more by walking normally.
"Okay, this is just stupid!"
Jaune didn't quite understand semblances at all – considering he didn't have one himself, and everyone's seemed to be different, he wasn't sure exactly what kind of help he could be.
"You're not doing anything different when you make the glyph for yourself?" Jaune asked as politely as he could. With Weiss as irate as she was, he needed to be cautious.
Weiss sighed. "No. I'm putting way less into making the glyphs than normal. I suppose the odd thing is actually how you're moving so much when I'm only using enough Aura to move myself centimeters."
Jaune brought a hand to his chin. "Is that why I was colliding with the walls constantly when we were late for Port's class that one time?"
The heiress nodded, her hair bobbing along with the action. "That's the first time this happened, yes. I was using enough Aura for myself to make the 'jumps' normally, but you were sent flying. I realize the relationship now, but I just don't understand why it's happening."
'It is quite a pickle... It's a shame I'm not of any help...'
Then it hit him. "Wait a minute..." Weiss looked up, meeting his eyes. "Isn't it just me?"
The heiress tilted her head. "Sorry?"
"During initiation, didn't Ruby interact with your glyphs just fine?" Jaune remembered the red-cloaked girl running up the side of a damn cliff, Weiss' glyphs barely visible against the rock face. Weiss looked to think about that for a moment, before nodding an affirmative. "So could it possibly be how your semblance is reacting poorly with my Aura or something?"
Weiss looked contemplative. "I wouldn't say poorly, but... It might be... Jaune, what's your semblance?"
"Don't know it yet." Jaune answered quickly.
"I see... wait, what?"
Jaune could only shrug. "Don't know it yet." He re-stated. Was that so weird?
Pale blue eyes continued to stare into his. "You're serious? No signs of... anything strange happening when you use Aura?"
The blond shook his head, gesturing towards the floor in general. "Nothing aside from this 'glyph' issue you're having problems wit-"
Jaune had Crocea Mors drawn within the second it took Weiss to cross the distance between them, deftly redirecting her strike.
"The hell Weiss?" He took the time his parry bought to get his shield at the ready, but by the time he could bring it up, Weiss was already hammering away at it, Jaune moving it in the way of her strikes.
Finally the girl backed off, settling into her ready stance. "Nevermind anything else; you're finding your semblance before this trip."
Jaune gulped.
"I'm not going to like this, am I?"
Weiss smiled, but not in the friendly, happy smile.
This one promised pain.
"No."
The man blew out a column of smoke, striding forwards across the empty floor of the warehouse. A few scattered crates here and there, some boxes lined up against the far wall... It wasn't much, but Roman was, at the least, making progress.
Though it wasn't enough; at their current rate, it wouldn't be enough.
The self-proclaimed master thief looked around. The men he hired from Hei - the ones who were still with him - were all out pulling off their own robberies, so the warehouse was certainly not very lively. Did Roman trust Hei's men to get the job done? No, not necessarily. But at this point, the thugs were disposable. Anything they managed to claim on his behalf would be considered a bonus.
In the end. if they could be taken down by a girl in her teens, how effective were they? All in all, Roman didn't expect all that much more out of them.
He needed someone else.
Roman pulled his gloves further up his hands, grabbing a crowbar off a table as he passed it. "Let's see here..." he casually stated, no one around to hear.
Approaching one of the bigger crates, he jammed the tool under the lid, popping it open with just a little bit of effort. The thief flicked the grey ash of cigar away, putting it out with his thumb with the intent on saving the rest for later.
After all, only a fool would handle Dust with a source of open flame nearby.
Roman pushed the lid off the crate, perusing it's contents. This one in particular seemed to have been a good haul. The thief reached in, pulling out a light blue crystal of Dust. He tilted it, tapped it, even sniffed it. It was high quality, probably some of the more expensive stuff that particular store had in stock.
But it wasn't quality he was after; it was quantity.
With a sigh, Roman put the crystal back inside the container. There were pouches of ground, powdery Dust, tubes of liquidized Dust, and full crystals like the one he just inspected. Roman slid the lid back on the crate, proceeding to sit on it as he fished through his pockets.
Relighting his cigar, the thief opened his scroll. He called the number he'd recently grown most accustomed to calling when he was in a tight spot, or if he needed anything.
Of course, that didn't mean he'd ever wanted to. But when his new boss had plans, she'd wanted them to succeed. If that meant she had to come personally, she would.
"Roman, what do you need now?"
The man laughed into the scroll's receiver, trying to hide his discomfort. Though the thief had a feeling that had been seen through instantly.
"I need more men."
"Kansetsu kisu..."
Uh oh, it seems like Weiss is determined to get Jaune his semblance. But will all her efforts be in vain, or will it all pay off? And what is Roman up to?
This chapter is meant to be a little more lighthearted, considering the hell I put everyone through the past two (three?) chapters. Regardless, I hope you all have enjoyed it as much as usual. Please, let me know what you think.
(... What do you mean using Ozpin as comic relief is unoriginal? And what do you mean I'm using Ozpin as comic relief?)
Later, nerds.
