I did make a small error on Jaune's age last chapter. I think I put him at mid-thirties, when he's actually more around thirty itself. Or his late twenties. The exact specifics aren't entirely important but my bad regardless.

Cover Art: Jack Wayne

Chapter 90

Sliding through customs and into Mistral, Jaune couldn't help but imagine how much panic was taking place in Vale. Hopefully with this, he'd be immune to some of that. All he needed now were to take some photos of himself by some monuments and show them off to Summer or Qrow, and Ozpin would be convinced he couldn't have anything to do with Amber because he hadn't been on the same continent.

Assuming Ozpin couldn't sense the maiden powers stuck within him.

I really should offload them on someone. Even Winter is better than just holding onto them. Sadly, Winter was busy in Atlas and he couldn't head straight there.

"Welcome to Mistral," the man at the gates said without much enthusiasm. "Please enjoy your stay. If you need a tourist's brochure, please visit the tourism office."

Jaune thanked him and headed deeper into the city, pausing to buy breakfast from a fast-food stall and eat it as he walked. Mistral's CCT was at Haven, much like Beacon's, but the signal boosting worked from several places within the city. It wouldn't make much sense otherwise as anyone wanting to make an international call would have to brave Grimm-infested forests to reach either tower.

Slipping into one of the CCT-Terminal buildings – squat and modern-looking offices with various booths for private and personal calls – Jaune found a secluded corner and closed the door behind him, pulling on the headphones and inserting his card to pay the charge. His scroll clicked into a slot to let him access it and his caller list.

Emerald will still be in lessons. I'll just send her a message.

He kept anything too specific out of it, just assuring her he was well and enjoying his time in Mistral. She wouldn't know why he was in Mistral, but she'd play along and tell anyone who asked it had been intended from the start. He finished by wishing her well and promising they'd spend some time together when he got back. There was no immediate response, which he counted as a good thing. Em was paying attention in class.

Winter, he was able to reach directly.

"Jaune. Good to hear from you. The caller ID, though. It says you're in Mistral?"

"I took a little detour via Raven airways. Something came up." Vague, but Winter could piece together what he meant.

"Are you in danger?"

"Not anymore. Something came up, though. I'm going to send some details through to you via encryption. It's a little too sensitive to say out loud." Given that he was speaking to Winter Schnee, anyone listening wouldn't have reason to think that unusual. It was a given that the Schnee family would have their secrets. "Look over them later if you can and give me your thoughts." Hinting, he added, "I'm thinking of you for the recipient."

"Recipient? I assume I'll understand what that means if I read through this?"

"You will. Let's just say `Fall` has passed on.""

Winter's face registered shock, but she controlled it well. "Very well. If you think it best, it probably is. Do you need me there?"

"Maybe." He let his fingers drum on the table as he thought. "No, I know you've got lots to do over there. There's something I heard. About a White Fang attack?" He watched her face darken. "Tell me it's not real."

"It's not legitimate. I've spoken to Adam and he's just as troubled. As for being real, well, there's no denying it happened. There are at least ten groups claiming responsibility online, but we can't lend those much credence. There are a number of `New White Fang` forums where people are trying to whip up support. No criminal action, however. Just anti-human sentiment and aggrandization of Sienna Khan and her work."

"It's just the one attack, then?" he asked. It almost had to be if no one had claimed responsibility.

"So far, yes. We obviously can't rule out the possibility it was some other criminal activity and that the White Fang logo was just a red herring. I've got people looking into it, but it's in Vale and you know how politics can be. I was hoping you might be able to…"

"I'll give it my best," he promised. "How is Adam handling it?"

"Menagerie is troubled, understandably. There are still some who support the Fang. He wants to come to Vale himself to deal with it, but I convinced him that the last thing people need is to figure out his involvement in the old brand."

Jaune nodded. There would be some who would notice the similarities and that'd explode in a way they didn't need. He had a feeling Adam's desire to come was more about Blake than the White Fang anyway.

"There's something more," Winter said. "Something taking place in Mistral. I was going to have Delta check in on it, but since you're there…"

"Go on."

"There's a tournament taking place. Rather odd rules with regards to it. Women only, between the ages of sixteen and thirty. The disparity in skill levels is ridiculous, meaning any degree of `fair competition` is a farce, but the age and gender is curious enough to draw my attention."

His too. Jaune leaned in to whisper, "That doesn't make sense. Spring is accounted for. Summer is in Vacuo. Winter is in Atlas, isn't she?"

"Yes."

"And Fall only just ended," he hissed. "Ozpin is good, but he's not good enough to retroactively arrange something like this. He's no oracle." And if he believed Amber would live on – which Jaune knew Ozpin had – then there was no need.

Even if there was, holding a tournament to pick a maiden candidate was just stupid. You were drawing attention to the winner and then putting the power in them. Might as well broadcast to Salem who the next maiden would be.

Ozpin wasn't involved. Jaune was sure of it.

"A business associate wanted to invite you and I down to watch it," Winter said. "They know of your past in tournaments and obviously thought it would be a good way to have an `in` with us. I told them I couldn't make it, but I can contact and say you can if you wish."

"What would I have to do?"

"Talk to them. Be friendly. They know you're not the decision maker, so they'll just be trying to win your favour, not your business. We've already offered them a contract. This is just a social event on their part. Mostly, they'll be trying to impress you. Act like you are."

"Is that normal?"

"In business, yes. Suppliers will vie to attract big contracts, and that's as often by schmoozing and wowing those in charge as it is offering a good price and service. People are more likely to do business with those they like and trust after all, even if they're not the cheapest. It's why father does so many charity events."

He could see how that worked. It was a way in if nothing else. "Alright. Let them know I'll be free and send me some details through. I'll check this thing out and see what it's all about. I don't expect much, though."

Ozpin couldn't have planned it because he didn't know Amber would be dying. Salem probably couldn't have either, unless they'd fully expected Amber to die and for him to steal her power – which was possibly since Salem knew he had such power, but then if they knew that, why bother sending Amber at him in the first place? If she was already loyal to them, why toss that away?

It didn't add up.

"You'll need to dress accordingly."

/-/

The Schnee family had contracts with tailors in every Kingdom, it turned out. Getting him in for a no-appointment measuring and fitting was as easy as a call, and the cost was handled by the SDC, put down as a business expense to be claimed against tax later. Since he was technically doing business, it was legitimate for once. Jaune found himself leaving in a black suit with a charcoal grey shirt and black tie. A single gold wristwatch – necessary, he was assured – completed the ensemble, though his sword did not.

Luckily, they provided a long, thin case of black velvet for him to store it in. Turned out that the SDC even had ways to deal with that. Important when you were a family that often needed bodyguards to protect them.

By the time he was done and on his way to the meeting, both Emerald and Winter had gotten back in touch with him via messages. Emerald saying she was fine, briefly mentioning schoolwork and saying she loved him. Winter commenting that the meeting was arranged and that she `accepted his nomination and would be available for transfer when needed`.

Good. He wanted rid of the maiden power as soon as possible. While it was a shame to lose Winter as the Winter Maiden, there was no guarantee that would happen now. James chose her because of her close ties to him and the military and those were gone. Better not to take the risk and instead let Winter become the Fall Maiden.

Poor name branding of a `Fall` maiden named `Winter` aside, it would work out.

Honestly, it had been ridiculous to have Winter be the Winter maiden and Cinder Fall be the Fall Maiden. At that point, he wouldn't have been surprised if Summer Rose had been the Summer Maiden, except that he knew she was in Vacuo.

Even if Ozpin realises Winter became a maiden, that's something we'll just have to deal with. The secrets won't last forever anyway. Sooner or later, he'd figure out Nora wasn't and that the only other woman there who could have been was Raven. Then, things would get tricky. Especially if Qrow was already pushing for Raven to come back.

He pushed such thoughts away as he approached the fancy restaurant he'd been told he now had a reservation at. There were three people waiting outside; a married couple and their son, though in this case the son was at least twenty-five. The couple were much older, consisting of a man with grey hair and a black suit, and a woman in a silvery dress with hair much the same colour.

"Mr Ashari," the man welcomed. He came over with his hand held out and Jaune shook it. "Welcome. Welcome. I'm so glad you could make it. We were so upset when Miss Schnee said you couldn't, but to hear you found time. It means the world to us. I'm George Beachcomb. This is my wife Abigail and our son, Terrance."

"Charmed." Jaune shook their hands in turn. He knew next to nothing about them, what they did or why he should be interested, but that didn't matter. All he had to do was smile, chat and let them spoil him. It was what they wanted to do – show off and make a good impression. "Winter couldn't make it, but I happened to be in the area. I'm really more interested in tournaments than she is anyway."

"You've competed in a few yourself, haven't you?" Abigail asked. She was by all appearances a sweet and kindly old lady. "I think we saw your daughter on the TV. She's the one with green hair, isn't she?"

"Emerald, yes. Her name, I mean." He chuckled. "But it works for her hair too."

The family ushered him inside and sat him down at a large table. The restaurant was empty, entirely rented out for just them and a seven-course meal. Thankfully, the elderly duo did enough chatter for the lot of them. Their son, Terrance, remained quiet, smiling and talking where he needed to but looking a little stiff.

Not dangerous stiff as far as he could see. Just the stiffness of someone brought along on something they really weren't comfortable with, and who had decided his best action was to stay quiet and be unfalteringly polite. Me too, man, Jaune thought. Me too.

The food was good. It prevented him having to talk.

After, the Beachcomb couple spoke about their business – automated software that would enable various machines in a dust refining plant to operate independent of one another but transmit important data from one machine to another on a production line while also highlighting flashpoints for staff. It integrated well with vision detection systems, they assured him.

"That's good," he said, hoping it was. "The SDC is making a push toward increased automation."

"It's the way forward," George agreed. "Especially with wages rising and dust being so much more expensive to source in raw form nowadays. The materials handling equipment used to be too expensive before, but with all the development that's gone on recently, a fully robotic line is much more accessible."

"Of course," Abigail said, "There's also the reduction in human error. Machines don't make mistakes like people do, nor do they call off sick, trip, spill or get into arguments with one another. The problem is making all the machines work together, though. That's where our software really shines."

"It sounds impressive."

That wasn't entirely a lie. Stuff like this probably was impressive to someone actually involved in factory work or dust refinement. They obviously assumed he was because of his engagement to Winter, and he wasn't rude enough to say otherwise.

"It is," George said. "And something to keep in mind is that automation isn't the death knell to workers as people like to claim it. You need staff to monitor, run and adjust the machines. There are plenty of jobs created – but they're different. No one's trying to force people out of a job here."

Jaune wasn't sure Jacques would have been all that upset if they were. You could get away with mistreating machines more than you could minorities. "That's good," he said. "And it wouldn't be your products causing that anyway, would it? You just make the software."

"Exactly. Still, there are a lot of people afraid of automation and what it represents."

"People don't like change," Jaune said. "Or being asked to learn new things."

"Oh, don't I know it." George laughed. "Let me tell you how things were when we first started!"

Jaune tried hard not to sag. "Please do…"

/-/

An hour and a half. That was all the time they'd spent at the restaurant, but he felt like he knew more about factory automation now than he'd ever wanted to in a lifetime. People are passionate about different things, he reminded himself. Some people wanted to be huntsmen. Some wanted to be lawyers.

Being excited about integrated manufacturing lines was a thing apparently.

At least with that over and a good first impression apparently made, they were on their way to the arena. He'd seen the price tags on those tickets. This wasn't the kind of event joe public would be coming to. Too many zeros for that.

"It's a shame your daughter isn't competing," Abigail said. "There's quite the prize pool."

"Emerald is in school. We decided that was more important."

"That's the best way, really. A strong education is for the best. And Beacon is one of the finest establishments on Remnant."

One of? In Vale it was considered the best, but that was probably part of living in Vale. All the academies probably saw themselves as the best and being `among the best` didn't really count for much when there were exactly four academies on the planet. They were all about the same. Well, except for Haven, but that was more due to Lionheart's sabotage.

"We have our own box from which to watch the show," George explained. "But there's a communal waiting and drinks room. Would you care for a glass of brandy?"

Seeing his chance, Jaune agreed. "If you wouldn't mind."

George left for the bar and Jaune slid into the crowd, business suit easily mingling among all the others. It was the wealthy who had come out tonight, all dressed in their finery as though the event was some business conference and not a tournament. Few of them he recognised. There was Leonardo Lionheart off in one corner talking with some people. He'd have to be dealt with soon, but obviously not now.

No Tyrian, Watts or Hazel. It would have been too much for them to get from Vale to Mistral this fast, and Watts was the only one subtle enough to handle an event like this. And he's supposed to be dead. He wouldn't show his face so easily.

That wasn't to say Salem didn't have other people he didn't know of. More mundane operatives. They might even be new additions she'd been forced to pick up after failing to stop him. If so, they didn't react to his presence there.

Someone did.

"You have some nerve showing your face here, Ashari."

Jaune turned, sighed and forced a smile. "Alexander Nikos. What a surprise to see you."

The large man wore a suit that only just fit him, stretched taut over a barrel chest. It was emblazoned with the crest of what he assumed was the Nikos family. Pyrrha never mentioned or wore anything like it, but then she'd never spoken of Mistral anyway. Only saying she preferred life in Beacon. Alexander could hardly contain his disdain, sneering down on Jaune.

"I don't see why it'd be a surprise," he spat. "My daughter is the finest fighter on Remnant. The Invincible Girl."

"Didn't she lose in Vale?"

"Trickery. That result should have been annulled. The only reason it wasn't is because the Schnee stepped in on your behalf – no doubt to protect their investment." He bared his teeth. "Marrying into that family. I suppose it only makes sense. Ashari isn't a name which means much."

You'd be surprised, Alexander. If it counts Ozpin and Salem among their number, it's the most powerful bloodline on Remnant.

"That's my fiancée you're insulting."

"Your fiancée can do better."

"Now it's me," he said. "I guess that's better. Are you expecting me to make a scene? Start something and let you have me thrown out? I'm bigger than that, Alexander. Bigger than you. And sorry to say, but I'm not here for you at all."

"Watch your words, Ashari. The Nikos family-"

"Is nothing compared to the Schnee family." While he'd not normally pull that kind of rank, it was the only thing this guy respected. He didn't want a feud with Pyrrha's family either way. There was enough on his plate. "So let's not cause any problems. This arena is big enough that we can avoid each other if we want to."

The larger man growled. "Is your child here?"

"No. I value her education more than I do her trophy cabinet."

"She-"

"I'll warn you. You can insult me because I don't care. You can insult Winter because she can look after herself and doesn't need me to do it for her. Insult Emerald, however, and I'll have you down in that arena with me." He was dead serious. "Don't test me, Alexander. Not where she's involved."

The man's mouth opened and closed. The challenge was set, but there was still time for him to back down. He could see that Alexander wanted to push, wanted to force him to concede, but Jaune held his gaze and made it clear that wouldn't happen.

He needed to have proof for Ozpin and the others that he was here. Knocking this man down to size would do that and probably wouldn't take long. Sure, Winter might not approve of him fighting in front of suppliers, but he could honestly say she'd been insulted, and he had to step in. Winter would roll her eyes, but the Beachcomb family would probably accept it.

"Stay out of my way," Alexander said, turning and storming away. "Today is Pyrrha's day."

"Good luck to her," Jaune said honestly, watching him go. In a lower voice, he mumbled, "Ass."

The moment of distraction cost him. Something hard pressed into his back.

"Don't move," a feminine voice instructed. "Act natural."

Jaune hummed and kept looking ahead, even going so far as to accept a snack from a passing waiter and bite into it. Someone pushed up against his back, a warm body used to hide the gun. He munched away, standing still.

"You let your guard down, Ashari."

"There are witnesses everywhere. You've chosen a poor time. Should have waited til I went to the restroom."

"Witnesses work both ways. Act out and they become hostages."

"Assuming I don't subdue you."

"It won't matter. The room is rigged to blow."

His eyes scanned the corners. "Bombs would be noticed."

"In the roof alcoves and pointed downward."

"Clever. That means it requires a signal, though. Something on you." He smiled when she didn't deny it. "Say I take you out quick enough, you won't have time to detonate it."

"Dead man's switch. My heartbeat stops, the bombs go off."

"Then I'll just have to knock you out."

"Cocky. What makes you think you could?"

"Well, I don't mean to brag but I'm pretty awesome." He listened to her scoff. "I'm Specialist trained. I was on a team with some of the best in Atlas. Well, some of the best. There was this girl on the team, and she was pretty much useless. Always needed saving. She was a real damsel in distress type."

"Fuck you, I didn't."

Jaune laughed and turned. "Hello November. Or shall I call you Helena?"

Helena Nikos, or November as he'd once known her, grinned up at him, slipping her tiny handgun into the sleeve of her dress, a Mistralian number that covered one arm in cloth but left the other up to her shoulder bare. It was a rich green in colour, matching her now red hair. With the platinum blonde dye she wore in Atlas having washed out, she looked more like Pyrrha than he'd ever realised.

"Call me what you want as long as it's not Damsel. I hauled your ass out the fire enough times."

Laughing, he gave her a quick hug, her squeezing back before they each let go. Anymore and it might have gotten awkward, especially with him now engaged. He didn't know how to mention that or whether he should. In the end, he chose not to, stuffing his ring hand into his pocket. Not that she wouldn't have known already. His and Winter's engagement was common knowledge.

"Are you here for security?" he asked.

"Hm. More for Pyrrha, but you know I don't like to be unarmed."

Helena wasn't the only one. He wouldn't say working in the Specialists made them paranoid because it hadn't, but when you were constantly sent into the worst situations, it just felt natural to stay armed. While not every problem could be solved with force, you never wanted to be without that option when the problems that could came along.

"And I'm keeping his arrogant-ness out of trouble."

"Me?"

"Since when have you been arrogant? I mean my father."

"Ah." Jaune winced. "Would it be rude if I called him a dick?"

"Yes. You're offending male anatomy everywhere." Rolling her eyes, she balanced on one foot, arms crossed under her breasts. "He's a nightmare but he's still the head of the family so we have to play along."

"We?" he asked, playing dumb.

"My sister, Pyrrha. I promised her once she joined Haven, she wouldn't have to do this again." She nodded out the window and to the arena. "Father," she spat the word, "Decided otherwise and overrode me and my promise."

"Sounds like a thing he'd do."

"Hm. You here on business?"

"Sort of," he said. "But I can skip for a bit if you want to talk."

"I don't want to be a bother…"

"Please let me skip," he begged.

Helena laughed. "Oh. That kind of business. Well, far be it for me to abandon a damsel in distress." Her hand found his, his left hand, and Jaune winced at the sudden flare of tingly energy. "Come," she said, not noticing. "I know somewhere we can talk."

/-/

The `place` was one of the competitor changing rooms. While Helena checked the rooms to make sure no one would interrupt them, Jaune massaged his hand and the sigil on it, feeling the tingling sensation drift away. It had been sudden. A rush of power so abrupt it was like sticking a hand in a power socket. Or so he assumed; Nora was the only person he knew to ever intentionally do that, and only when she needed a "pep-me-up" before Port's class.

What happened? It was like when I stole Amber's power, but Helena isn't a maiden.

He knew that for a fact.

"Looks like we're clear," she said, moving away from the door. "Not that we're not allowed here, but I dread to imagine the rumours if someone saw us sneaking off. Father would have my head and you… well…" Her eyes dipped to the ring on his left hand.

Jaune tried not to wince. "Yeah. I know."

"So…" Helena looked up doggedly and forced a smile. "Congratulations on that. I can't say I expected it, but… Winter. Yeah. She was always nice."

"Yeah…" He swallowed. "Helena, I-"

"How about we don't?" she said, as much a request as a suggestion. "It… It's just going to be awkward if we try and I don't want it to be like that. I'm happy to see you again, I really am. What are you doing here anyway?"

Running away from the issue didn't feel like the right thing to do, but Jaune was happy to run with it. "It's really more an accident than anything. SDC suppliers wanted to meet with someone from the company and I happened to be in the area. They knew how I've been involved in tournaments, assumed this would be a good way to impress me and well, here we are." He paused for a second. "What is all this about? Don't you think this is all a little strange?"

"Arranging a tournament where professional huntresses with up to ten years' experience compete with my little sister who's still in her first year of Haven?" she asked pointedly. "No. I thought that was perfectly reasonable and not at all unfair. Why? Do you think it's odd?"

"Okay. Stupid question…"

"Just a little. I'm a Specialist, Jaune. I was taught to be curious just like you."

"Then what have you been able to find?"

"Precious little," she admitted. "Father got an invitation three days ago and pushed for this hard. There's a prize pool – quite a large one – but also a lot of the competitors were invited by name, and there's money just for showing up. Enough to attract people who really have no hope of winning."

"Like your sister."

"Like Pyrrha. Don't get me wrong, she's incredible for her age but there are people who are twenty-eight here. She doesn't have any chance against someone who's been out in the field for that long. And if she doesn't, then I dread to imagine how short the matches with other girls her age are going to be. This whole thing could be narrowed down to the ten most likely to win – and they're all professional huntresses - so why bother inviting and paying for everyone else?"

Why indeed. Even if you were looking for maiden candidates, this wasn't the way to do it. For starters, no maiden would show up to something like this given the danger. Secondly, if you wanted raw ability, you'd go for someone close to thirty. Ozpin chose Pyrrha because he was out of options and wanted it to be someone he could keep an eye on, protect and teach. That Pyrrha had been as powerful as she was must have been a nice bonus, but a powerful first-year student was still never going to be as strong as a mediocre huntress of six or seven years' experience.

"How is your sister?" he asked, trying to hide his naked curiosity. This was Pyrrha. His friend, his partner, his teacher and whom he liked to remember as his first love, even if they never had a chance. "How is she taking it?"

"Surprisingly well. I don't think she minds all that much losing. I've even helped by having this marketed as her retirement tournament. After this, she can be a huntress full time."

"Won't her father complain?"

"Almost certainly."

"Maybe she should consider transferring." Jaune tried to make it sound like an off-the-cuff idea. "He's got a lot of influence with Lionheart from what I remember and being so close to Haven probably means he can pressure Pyrrha constantly. Maybe she'd do better in one of the other academies."

Like Beacon. Let her go to Beacon.

"It's a little late for that, don't you think? Years have started. Teams have been formed."

"I'm close with Beacon's headmaster. I'm sure I could have words and get her in."

Ozpin would leap at the chance.

"I appreciate it, Jaune, but Pyrrha will be fine here." Helena either didn't notice or didn't comment on his visible disappointment. "She's making friends who see her for more than what she is, and she's starting to settle down with them and be happy."

Jealousy flared up inside him. Someone else was taking his place. But as long as Pyrrha was happy…

"That's good. No one wants to be put on a pedestal."

"I guess you'd know more about that than me," she said, turning away.

What's that supposed to mean? "Helena…"

"What? I thought we were asking about my sister."

He winced. "How are you?"

"Does it matter? I'm not Pyrrha, nor Winter."

Minefield. He was smart enough to recognise it, if not to have avoided wandering into it in the first place. Where was Summer when he needed her? In Beacon, teaching and living her life, not on call to be his rescue whenever he needed it.

"I thought we'd catch up after this," he said. "I was only asking about your sister to be polite."

"After?"

"Dinner. Catch up. You know, as friends. If you're free…"

"I might have time. Depends on how badly the family handles Pyrrha not being able to beat people she has no right being able to beat."

"I'll stay around for a few days if you need me to. I've missed you Helena. It can't be easy having to constantly act as a shield between your sister and your old man. Though I can't think of anyone else strong enough to manage it."

Helena sighed. "You're laying it on a bit thick there."

"Dial it back?"

She nodded. "Dial it back. I'm still angry, but I'll give you a chance to make it up."

"Appreciated."

"How is your girl?"

"Recently broke a boy's arm for insulting me."

"Huh. Apple doesn't fall far from the tree then."

"I never assaulted someone for being an idiot."

"Sure. And what you challenged my father to up there doesn't count."

His mouth worked silently for a few seconds. Suggesting he'd beat Alexander up for insulting Emerald was nothing like Emerald beating Cardin up for insulting him. Jaune paused, stared at the wall ahead and sighed.

Helena smirked. "See what I mean?"

"I'm an idiot."

"At times, yes, but I've come to expect-" Helena cut off suddenly as someone knocked on the door. Pressing a finger to his lips, she pulled back and away, creeping to the door and opening it slightly, being sure to keep him out of sight. Jaune slipped back, leaning against a wall and ready to step into the adjoining restroom if heeded to hide.

"-thought I heard you," a familiar voice said.

"What are you doing here?" Helena asked quietly.

"Too many questions. I wanted a break from them."

Pyrrha…? It was. Jaune found himself straining to see even as he told himself he shouldn't. Helena caught him looking and sighed, pulling the door open. Pyrrha stood there, dressed exactly as she had been back when they'd first met. Her bronze breast and leg plates and her brown leather skirt. Her red hair was done up in her long ponytail with her tiara in place.

When last he'd seen her, she'd been young and he could accept she was a different person. Here and now, it was the Pyrrha he'd always known. It felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"You've met Mr Ashari before," Helena said, ushering her in and closing the door. "He's here to watch today."

Pyrrha smiled brightly. Politely. It hurt that she gave him the overly friendly and fake smile she had Weiss when they first met before initiation. The one she kept for those she knew she had to be polite to but didn't want to be around. "Hello Mr Ashari."

"Jaune," he grunted back. "And don't worry, I'm not here on business. I'm as dragged along as you and your sister are."

Pyrrha looked startled.

"He's a friend," Helena explained. "Don't worry. He won't tell anyone how you feel."

He could see Pyrrha wasn't entirely convinced. "Just because I run a gym doesn't mean I care much for tournaments. Emerald – you remember her? – she's in Beacon now. She knows she has to pick between being a huntress or a tournament fighter."

"You let her choose?"

"Of course. It's her life."

"He's not like father," Helena said. "Jaune was a Specialist with me, so expect a similar crude sense of humour."

"Is he the man you fell in l-"

"Anyway," Helena interrupted, giving Pyrrha a pointed look. "We were just catching up as friends and wanted to talk away from prying eyes. The old man never really got over you losing that one final in Vale and is still convinced she cheated."

"Using a Semblance isn't cheating," Pyrrha said. "Though those things I saw…"

Curious, Jaune asked, "What did Emerald show you?"

"Blood and death."

"She grew up on the streets. It wasn't a good life before I adopted her."

Pyrrha's green eyes bore into his. "It wasn't before you took her in."

"Ah…" He looked away, unsure exactly what instance she might even be referring to. I should have asked Emerald. It could have been Atlas and the White Fang or anything before or after. Helena was looking curiously his way, but this was after he'd been a Specialist, so it wasn't impossible for her to assume it was during that. "I hope that didn't give you a bad impression of me," he said. "I'm a huntsman so a few fights are expected."

"Against people?"

The recrimination wouldn't have hurt from any other teenager.

"It happens," Helena said, coming to his defence. "You're naïve if you think being a huntress only ever means going after Grimm, Pyrrha. And I know you're not stupid. There'll be criminals and rogue huntsmen who want to use their power for ill. It's a wild world out there."

An electric bell began to sound in the distance.

"That's your signal," she said to Pyrrha. "Good luck out there."

"Thank you. I'll try my best."

"Good luck," Jaune echoed. "And try not to take it all too seriously. You're against people almost twice your age in some places. This whole tournament is a joke as far as I can see."

Pyrrha's smile was lopsided. "I don't mind losing here."

"I guess that'd be one way to show your father you're done with it all." Jaune offered his hand, wanting to at least end their meeting on a positive note. Even if she'd never come to Beacon or be a part of his life, she was still the one person he wanted to help the most. I won't let your life this time end like the last, he thought, thinking back on her smiling face as Pyrrha's hand touched his.

Something tugged inside him. The world lurched. Something – something heady and big – was dragged out of his soul and away, fracturing. His hand burned for a moment, but cold, as though he'd touched ice and scalded himself.

Pyrrha blinked once, twice and then a third time. Hearing the bell again, she shook her head, whispered a quick farewell and left, jogging away down the corridor. The door swung shut behind her, leaving Jaune to massage his hand.

"Something wrong?" Helena asked.

"Static shock," he lied, peeling the back of his glove up, taking a look at the sigil. It was still there, still carved into his skin, but it was no longer glowing as it had been faintly ever since he stole Amber's maiden power.

His eyes roamed to the door Pyrrha had left through.

Best laid plans and all that. The power of a maiden wasn't made to be controlled by a man, or so I assume from the show. Sorry, no Sailor Jaune here.

Next Chapter: 18th January

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