Just a little concept I came up with while doing things non-fanfic related. The simple premise of this story is as follows: Jaune discovers he is a Hamon user and can finally pull his weight.
This story is inspired by Silver (story by Imyoshi, one of the RWBY archive's best stories in my opinion) where Jaune discovers a new concept and revolutionises aura. Hamon is a very unique concept, but not aura-gun levels revolutionary.
RWBY is property to both Rooster Teeth and Monty Oum
Hamon is property to both David Productions and Hirohiko Araki
Another day, another thrashing. Another combat lesson with Professor Goodwitch, another beating by Cardin Winchester. Jaune revolted internally at the endless losing streak he was destined to suffer at to the point where he became insensitive to it. Rinse and repeat, as the saying goes. The pain and injuries mended away instantaneously, his boots clapping loudly against the marble floor as he trudged out of the arena in solemn silence.
Jaune's trek came to a halt, his position standing just short under the arena's border: he gave a quick glance of attention at his team and their sister variant. They weren't fazed by the outcome at all, not to his surprise; he then gave team CRDL a short stare, watching as the four boys immersed themselves in celebrating their leader's victory. He simply shrugged it off, exiting the class fully and leaving the audience's line of sight.
Jaune was to find his locker and change back to his school uniform as he has done so many times before. Rinse and repeat. He did just that and changed back into his school attire, just in time for the bell to ring and for every student to be dismissed. The day was over and Jaune long-since had accustomed himself to the daunting truth that this was what he would undergo during his time at Beacon. He faked his transcripts, faked his way into the academy, after all - the people he was surrounded by trained vigorously from the day they could lift up a weapon. Who was he to expect being able to meet the expectations that came with years of preparation? He didn't know the answer for that, at least, not yet.
Professor Oobleck's lesson (lecture, might I say) had been quite the bore; the irony that came with dozing off to watching a man zip across the room with tremendous levels of energy couldn't make itself any clearer. Oddly enough, Jaune didn't fall asleep at the present conundrum. He had made decent notes, enough to carry him for the written exam that was set for a later date, and he did so not looking like a lost buffoon. Something within him probably ticked. Jaune Arc studying successfully was a miracle for the standards of everybody. It was the final lesson of the day, and the students around him were exhausted and running on fumes, and here he was, relaxed and confident, making notes with plentiful concentrated energy. Just like last time, the bell rang, and it was the final lesson of the day. Off to the his dorm room was Jaune.
-o-0-o-
Pyrrha felt down in the dumps. It wasn't her fault that Jaune had such a mundane and depressing attitude for the past two weeks, but it still bore weight on her shoulders nevertheless. As his teammate, it was her responsibility to look after her leader as if she was to look after herself, and that was with high value. She had mentally noted that Jaune would always go out of his way to talk to someone when they start the conversation first and not the other way around. Her leader was awfully quiet with any other scenario. She had tested her hypothesis during the later hours of the day when they changed into their sleeping clothes. Pyrrha, being competent and smart, had been correct. Jaune wouldn't even make a noise that was louder than a breath of his nose, and even that felt louder than the hot and steamy shower he took. Two hours passed, maybe three, and it was lights out for the entire academy. The silence ate away at her positivity, and she was tired of playing his game. Pyrrha broke the silence.
"Jaune." No reply. "Jaune, are you alright?" Her voice was raised in concern to how her lovable leader didn't respond to her pleas. "Jaune, you can talk to us." Her own breathing stifled, becoming as dead as the quiet atmosphere within the room (save for Nora's snoring and Ren's studying). Her ears perked up to the sound of a casual remark.
"Huh? Oh, sorry. I guess I zoned out for a bit." She didn't know why, but the typical response literally melted the concerns that grounded her back in discomfort into nothing more than a tiny wisp. Maybe Pyrrha really did fall head over heels for her leader. Now, how was she going to approach this?
"Jaune, you've been acting strange. For the past two weeks you have been dead quiet except for when somebody has gone out of their way to talk to you."
"Oh, that. Yeah, sorry for being such a worry for you guys. Your hands are already full trying to become professional huntsmen, and I've been throwing you off for the past couple of days." Pyrrha felt like crying with the immeasurable amount of guilt she had witnessed firsthand.
"Jaune, no! It isn't because of that! It's just that you've been acting so- so not like yourself lately! You haven't thrown me off at all Jaune, I-" Parakeet-green eyes visually aligned with dull cobalt-blue irises, ones that looked tired beyond belief. Maybe the life of huntsman in-training was getting to him, maybe some other issue was pressing itself on his troubled soul, but at that point in time did Pyrrha whole-heartedly wish she told Headmaster Ozpin of his fake transcripts. She should've known better than to keep it a secret, should've known that Beacon was going to break him. Pyrrha should've known better.
"Anyways, I'm getting some sleep for tomorrow. Goodnight, Pyrrha." Pyrrha's heart sank for some unknown reason.
"Goodnight, Jaune." Pyrrha watched Jaune trail off to his room. Maybe she should give him one final chance. She couldn't bear to be the person that would shatter Jaune's dreams.
-o-0-o-
Eleven o'clock. Jaune's musty breathing must have heated his room to the point where he had to open a window for it. Shortly after that, the room got so cold that he had to put the effort into closing the window. Then it got hot again. What is wrong with Beacon's ventilation! Jaune mentally exclaimed. He couldn't bear the sweat-drenched pillow his head lay numbly on, hating how it removed the effects that came with a fresh, recent shower. His torso darted upwards, perpendicular to the bed so that he was at a sitting position. His breathing was ragged, heavy and hitched, louder than it ever should be in the first place. It bothered him very much so. Jaune exhaled, allowing as much air out of his lungs as he could, to the point where his chest constricted with discomfort. Jaune pushed his lips out, allowing for a small gap between the two muscles to exist. Slowly, ever so slowly, did he inhale through his mouth, controlling his breathing to such a high degree. It felt pleasant, it felt soothing, being able to control something for once, even if it something as simple as breathing. Five minutes passed, the labour that came with his 'exercise' bearing fruit; sleep lulled him to lay down, to return and to slumber, and Jaune did just that.
Except, it didn't.
Even when his eyelids were shut, a blinding yellow light vigorously invaded his head. It was far too bright, and by the time it dimmed down, the corners of his vision blackened with temporary darkness. It was hard to see, and that was made ever so clear when he narrowly avoided smashing his head against the corner of his desk by the skin of his teeth. He finally regained full sight, and thanked whoever up above was observing him for favouring him in such a way. Jaune couldn't use his aura whenever he was disorientated - it was an active process, one that required concentration. He sat at the edge of his bed instead, making sure that if he were to ever hit something, it would be the flat and smooth floor. Jaune made that small cavity within his mouth once again, practising his breathing once again. Breathe in, breathe out. The comforting sensation came for a second time, putting his head and body at ease. Nothing interesting happened again for the first fifteen seconds, until that obtrusive lemon-yellow light illuminated with the force of a thousand-watt bulb. It was almost like a second aura, one that rivalled the blinding white light of his own. The light dissipated, allowing the darkness to enslave his room once again. In doing so, it also left a very confused Jaune Arc to contemplate the short event that just happened just two seconds ago.
"What was that?" Jaune asked aloud, his heart racing and thumping at such a fast pace. His mind whirred at what happened recently, eager to find out more. At this point, he stood up, annoyed at the fact that nothing was happening - at least, he was annoyed that the yellow light didn't appear when he wanted it to. He told himself to calm down, to practise his breathing exercises, slowly breathing steadily. Success favoured the yellow Arc as the gleaming yellow brightness encompassed his body like an aura of sorts. "Does that mean I have to breathe like that in order to summon up the light?" Another question that was put into practice, one that was proven true. "But I don't see the use with this; at best, I've become a human light bulb, and I've done that before with my aura." His brows furrowed in a downwards position, signifying his agitation. It was by then did he realise his thirst for water, one that was begging to be quenched as soon as possible. A slight mechanical moan squeaked from the joints from his door, one that wasn't effective in waking up the other three members of team JNRP. The thick black haze in the kitchen made it hard to navigate and find the water jug, only adding difficulty in trying to find the drawer that contained the glass cups. In turn, he called forth the the yellow glow, adding a comfortable light to his surroundings. It wasn't blinding like the first time around. It exerted the same power as a dimly-lit lamp, or a candle. The light made sure the objects scattered around the place were defined and stood out between each other, something he needed at a time and place such as the kitchen. He found the water jug and a cup almost immediately, pouring the contents into the glass. He then picked it up, full of the liquid substance.
He picked it up, and dropped it immediately. Vivid jolts of electricity jutted out from his fingertips and into the water, causing Jaune to drop the glass in an act of pure instinct. The cup landed onto his left foot. The mouth of the cup came into contact with said foot, balanced perfectly to the point where it wouldn't topple over in any specific direction; it was also there that Jaune Arc didn't dare move his left leg by a single millimetre. Jaune reached for the bottom of the cup as if he was doing one of those stretching activities he would do before a combat session, easily gripping it and lifting it up to level his chest. He took a quick look at the floor, taking note at how there was no visible spillage. He then gazed at the cup in bizarre awe as it - which was still tipped upside down - held the water with unwavering strength. Jaune gawked at the spectacle, fully intrigued by the endless ripples that undulated in the water. Jaune flipped the cup, making sure it was at its upright position, shortly before consuming the water and quenching the thirst he had long-since forgotten.
"Tomorrow's gonna be a long day," Jaune duly noted to himself.
-o-0-o-
Tomorrow came and tomorrow went. The only thing worth remembering was Goodwitch's combat lessons, specifically how Pyrrha had absolutely thrashed team CRDL in a four on one spar. That was amazing, he had to admit. Maybe it was the conversation he had last night, maybe it was something else, but never before had Jaune ever seen Pyrrha fight with such vigour and such elegant pressure, giving Cardin and his compatriots zero room to breathe in. Fights with Pyrrha were quite one-sided anyways, so it wasn't like they would've been able to do much. The other lessons and their contents entered one ear and left the other, simple as that.
"Pyrrha, that was amazing! I've never seen you fight with such energy before!" Pyrrha could only blush slightly at the complement, one that didn't see her as the four-time regional Mistral champion, but just another huntsman in-training who won their spar.
"Thanks Jaune, seriously. Thank you." One more chance. She couldn't dare to see Jaune get trounced again by one of their peers. The bell rung its sweet song to many and the day, just like the one previously, had concluded. "What should we have for dinner?"
"Hush, Nora. We can have pancakes AFTER we have dinner. It isn't healthy to always eat pancakes." Ren chastised Nora before she could respond. A cute puff of denial from the orange-haired girl couldn't stop Ren from ruffling the girl's hair. Adorable.
"I know! We should go to a restaurant! I'm in the mood for spaghetti," Jaune suggested. "I mean, we don't have to if you guys don't want to, so-"
"Hush, Jaune. We'll go to that restaurant and get the pasta you crave so much." She could see it in his eyes. Somehow, through some overnight incident, those sombre blue eyes had suddenly gained that spark she had seen at the start of the year. She'll ask her later, but for now, it was dinner time. Dinner time especially came first for a certain Nora Valkyrie.
-o-0-o-
Everybody had received their plates of food. With Pyrrha and Jaune, it was the fancy squid ink pasta that the leader spoke of just over thirty minutes ago. It came for free, courtesy of the celebrity status Pyrrha had garnered over the years. Nora had pancakes smeared with three different types of maple syrup. No surprise there. Ren had an equally-ornate chicken salad. Very expensive, very healthy, very much like Ren to pick a salad of all things. They gorged themselves in the food - how they did it without looking like rabid animals was a mystery. Especially Nora, who was a complete novice when it came to table manners. Nora finished her plate first, eagerly helping herself to second servings, while Ren relished in the health benefits that came with eating so much greens.
"You're a bit of a health nut, Ren." Jaune simply stated. He leaned forward slightly, making sure he came into perfect eye contact with the magenta-eyed young man. "How do you do it?"
"I dunno. Force of habit, I suppose. I got it definitely from where I grew up." An earnest smile radiated from Ren's face, one that spoke of experience and trauma. It was best not to pry. Ren quickly returned to his stoic, cheeky attitude just seconds after. "And you? I don't remember Jaune Arc having such an exquisite and refined palate for food."
"Seven sisters can do a lot to you; some bad, some good. A cultured taste for food is a bit grey in that instance but hey, it means I can appreciate good food when I eat it." Jaune stuck his fork into a pile of black noodles, twirling a few of them and wrapping it on his fork. He put the little bun of goodness into his mouth, enjoying the briny saltiness that came with it. "Like I said, good food." A small, but hearty laugh came from the two of them including Pyrrha, who didn't interrupt the conversation. The pancake queen was tending to her subjects; primitive affairs were to be dealt with afterwards. Jaune then faced the red-haired celebrity. "Since when were you a celebrity, Miss Nikos?" He said it in a teasing tone, one that evidently stated that he was messing with her.
"Tournaments, championships. Winning." She retorted with the same chaff tone before returning to her stack of black pasta noodles. Her life as a Nikos basically summarised. "And you were right on the spaghetti! They really are delicious!" She received an audacious wink from her crush. Who knew Jaune had it in him to act flirtatious.
"What did I miss?" Nora inquired, her words muffled due to the mushed-up food stuck at the roof of her mouth.
"Nothing much, Nora. Nothing much." Ren simply answered. The dinner was a good one, despite being their first one outside Beacon. Wonderful.
-o-0-o-
The shattered moon of Remnant lit up the night sky, and with it was Jaune's room. The room had been mystified by the glowing orb in the sky, one that was perfect for discovery. It was the weekends commencing tomorrow, so it was fine for him to stay up for as long as he could. Jaune breathed in slowly, and on his command came the spectacular yellow aura, the life-like electric current running amok his body. He had done it only twice before, but never had it ever felt so invigorating, so energising. Jaune felt like he could tackle all of Remnant just by calling this new aura to his body. Water. The cup of water. He had poured himself one before conducting his experiment, one that was short of full in volume. He picked it up while keeping the yellow static alive, and tried pouring the bulk of liquid out and onto the floor. Just like before, the water ceased to leave its home, comfortably resting inside. Unlike before, Jaune had caught a glimpse of the water from the underside, something he never would've imagined doing two days ago. From that perspective did he see literal ripples make itself clear, the irregularities in the water rushing to the borders of the cup. It went on endlessly, not stopping at all. The noise was quiet, but there nevertheless - the noise was similar to the resonant frequency made when rubbing your finger across the rim of a wine glass, one that vibrantly hummed amidst the silence.
"I don't see your practicality. I mean, it's cool for party tricks, I guess..." Jaune stared at the cup, unimpressed and disappointed. The grip on the glass strengthened, cracking once or twice. That was unintentional. Before he knew it, the water blasted out of the cup with tremendous force, scorching the floor and permanently scarring the wooden finish on it. Immediately after did his nerves get the better of his body, bullets of sweat tumbling down his forehead. It was a good thing the storage cabinet was filled with spare carpets, otherwise it would've appeared as if he tried to commit arson. Jaune's breathing increased rapidly, panic laced with every breath he made. "Okay, no more party tricks!" Who was he to assume everything was to go according to plan? He had discovered this breathing technique just over one or two days ago, did he think he was able to level mountains in the span of two days? No, he shouldn't have thought so. It was also there did he smile with such smug cheer.
"So, you aren't just some thing for party tricks, huh?" His smile grew tenfold. "What can you really do?" Jaune allowed the energy to flow freely between the joints of his fingers. It cackled and reverberated with a considerable sum of energy, a feeling he had grown attached to. Only now did he realise how comforting the glow felt, how it felt like the physical manifestation of the world's goodness; it felt virtuous, it felt moral, it boosted his confidence. Aura was the physical manifestation of one's soul, used as a barrier of sorts against any form of harm, but this? It felt like the tangible link to the sun. As he was to dwell on the thoughts, he drew more and more similarities to each other.
"You know, it's like as if I have a personal portion of the sun in my hands." Now his teeth were exposed with his grin, creating a model smile many toothpaste companies would die for. "Sun, sunlight... Oh! I got it! Sunlight Energy! That's what I'll call you, at least for now." Jaune moved towards his window, staring at the dipping moon on the horizon. A blast of fresh air pressed coolly against his face, emphasising the drooping bags underneath his eyes. The Sunlight Energy dissipated from his body, waning out of existence for the time being. Now he felt like he was going to collapse on the floor.
"An extra source of energy too, huh." Plomph! Headfirst, Jaune landed accurately onto his bed, relishing in the blanket's silky qualities. "Sick."
-o-0-o-
"I'm awake, I'm awake!" The clock on the wall adjacent to his left read twelve thirty in the afternoon. "Twelve thirty? Oh my Oum! How long did I sleep for!" On his bedside was a little note written in a clear and elegant form. Went to town for a bit. Will see you later. It obviously came from Ren, the handwriting was a near-identical match to the notes he would use for an upcoming test prior to taking some of his own. It was nice knowing that they didn't bother disturbing his rest. It also meant having more time to both himself and his newly-acquainted Sunlight Energy. Today was going to be a lot of fun, he could already feel it. Speaking of fun, Jaune lit his body up with the Sunlight Energy, power cracking with feral control. While in the form, he picked up Crocea Mors, which hung in bored silence. In doing so, Jaune accidentally sent a few sparks of the energy into the blade, the volatile power travelling up the extensive blade. It seared the wall the Arc family sword rested parallel to - another mark signifying its large potency.
"I have to stop touching things while in this form: I'm gonna burn everything in doing so..." In one of his drawers was a poster, one large enough to conceal such an incident. It was a Red vs Blue poster, a show he absolutely adored as a child; of course, now was the perfect time to getting around placing the large mat on the wall. Job done.
For a second time that day, Jaune encompassed himself with Sunlight Energy. He stabilised his breathing to near-perfection shortly before doing so. It turned out that he could control the intensity he would be able to exert as long as he had his breathing under control, something he noted duly. He also discovered that Sunlight Energy can be conducted efficiently in both metals and liquid bases, which probably meant it would work well with most weapons. What don't you work well with? Questions as such would pop into his mind time and time again. The Emerald Forest seemed to call him, weirdly enough.
What are your drawbacks?
-o-0-o-
"Perfect." Jaune found himself a secluded area of the Emerald Forest. It was isolated enough for him, detached far from the very perimeter of Beacon's campus. On his call, Jaune glowed with the familiar yellow brilliance, keen on making new bounds for himself. It was strangely peaceful for a place infested with high Grimm activity; maybe it was to do with how warm and inviting Sunlight Energy appeared to be (which was what really put off all Grimm), maybe it wasn't, but today felt awfully quiet, save for his breathing and the light's resonant frequencies.
Crocea Mors laid submissively to Jaune's dominant grip the sword held in a fighting stance. The Sunlight Energy had made itself at home with the iron blade, the static power coiling around it like barbed wire. Jaune sliced the air upwards with hearty strength. Nothing note-worthy happened. Two swings, the first to the left and the second to the right. He was wielding no results, and the looming fear that he had tried to invest in something that may or may not have any practicality when applied with combat began to ebb away at the back of his mind. Another swing. Another swing. Temper, temper. Jaune was getting frustrated.
"Argh! Hiya!" The seventh strike. Who knew lucky number seven was going to make Crocea Mors accidentally slip out of Jaune's clasp and at the unfortunate tree right in front of him. It was planted securely in the centre of the trunk - too securely for his standards. Pyrrha's throw with her javelin travelled several yards in order to stop him from suffering a gruesome, untimely death. Even that had only managed as much as biting halfway through the tree bark. Miló's javelin form was built for throwing and the last time he checked, swords weren't.
"Wait, metals don't store Sunlight Energy; they conduct it, so that means that-" The yellow energy went to work, quickly spreading within the tree like a wild fire: from branch to root, the old plant radiated yellow quickly before exploding from the inside and sending splinters everywhere. Jaune's white Aura flared to life in an act of instinct, felding off the stray chunks of wood with relative ease. Crocea Mors bumped harmlessly against the grassy dirt floor as if somebody let it clumsily slip out of its sheath.
"Hah... Ahahah! Holy crap, that's awesome!" Jaune remarked enthusiastically at the sudden results he garnered. Practise makes progress, not perfect. Never before had he felt as giddy picking up Crocea Mors as he did just then, surpassing even when he saw it for the first time as a child. He gave the Arc family weapon a twirl or so before raising it high at the peach-brown sky. The sun was leaving at it meant he should too. He stored his iconic family heirloom away at its shield-sheath, his shoes crushing the short weeds and grass as he moved back to his dormitory. He weakened his Sunlight Energy's brightness, concentrating enough for him to light up his path a yard or so. How convenient.
What he was unaware of, though, was how they had grown nearly twice their original height, blooming massive dandelions as a result.
Once Beacon was within eye-shot, Jaune signalled for his body torch to scatter and dissipate. Nobody could miss the giant castle of an academy from miles away, even if they tried. It simply was that massive. The place was still open, a good sign to tell him he wasn't too late. That was a relief. His mind echoed with the events at Emerald Forest, how channelling Sunlight Energy through the sword meant being able to vaporise entire trees with minimal effort. How was he going to tell his team? Was he going to tell his team? Questions bounced from every corner of his mind at the speed of light. He wasn't quite there yet, so it meant having more time to ponder on that day's fateful events.
A low growl made Jaune's hairs stand in frozen horror. He could feel the heavy and terror-inducing breath press ever so lightly at the back of his nape. It was cold, dense and spoke of impending doom. Wonderful, a Grimm had decided to feast on his scrawny flesh and bones. A second snarl entered his ears, one that spoke of impatience and restlessness, spit flying at the poor boy at every crease and crevice. Jaune's shoulders tensed up in fear, his fingers wrapping themselves around Crocea Mors' hilt. He unsheathed the sword out of its scabbard, twisting his torso by a complete one-hundred and eighty degrees, swinging the lethal blade in a broad, horizontal arc. The Grimm was a Beowulf, a smaller one at that - it probably got way too bored out of its mind and had found perfect entertainment when it needed it the most. How thrilling for the Grimm. How unfortunate for Jaune.
The Beowulf sidestepped out of Crocea Mors' punishing range, lunging immediately at Jaune soon after. His sheath became his shield upon urgent command, narrowly tanking the weight of the blow and absorbing most of the damage. Jaune, being the complete novice when it comes to fighting, didn't hold his weight down due to inefficient and lacking footwork, thrusting his body back by ten metres or so. The punishment wasn't too severe, but it did mean staying open to other attacks. The Beowulf pounced instantly, jaws gaping widely and tongue flailing outwardly, ready to maim and crush the blonde knight's pretty little head. Jagged teeth met rounded iron as the Grimm soon found itself gnawing on its prey's puny defence, grunting for the third time while in the power struggle for dominance.
A golden opportunity to turn the fight to his favour presented itself through an openly-exposed belly; the Beowulf was so occupied trying to win their small bout of strength that it had put all of its concentration in all four of its legs, straining them as much as it could to gain as much strength it needed. A surprise knee to the ribs forced the small Grimm to wince in pain, its strength falling as a consequence. Perfect. White pristine light engulfed the perimeter of his left arm. Activating his aura, Jaune had managed to land - while sloppy and amateurish - a successful right hook square at the small Grimm's forehead, causing the foul beast to stagger back in disorientation. It shook its head like a dog shaking off water from its fur coat, regaining its composure and amplifying its hunger for seeing him dead. Its ivory plating didn't even crack a single bit. Maybe he really wasn't cut out for the life of a huntsman.
Two swift swipes of the Beowulf's claws were responded to with two slim manoeuvres, Jaune avoiding death twice in the span of half a second. A lousy thrust of his sword at the beast's unprotected chest was put off its course thanks to the monster swatting the attack left and towards the air instead. The fight seemed quite balanced, but at the same time it wasn't. Jaune went through three various episodes of panic, blanching over the threat of losing his stamina too quickly. The beast was ravenous, hungry, a force that never seemed to tire, and it was at that point did Jaune really feel desperate. He had been keeping his Sunlight Energy at the sidelines due to the unprecedented lack of knowledge he had with it, feeling as if he wasn't comfortable using it. He didn't know how it worked, and his pessimism was getting the better of him. It could very well blow himself up just like that tree did before, and that truly was a cause of concern.
An x-shaped slash with both of its sharp claws sought to spill Jaune's blood, one that made him raise his shield up to take in the majority of the brute force. He underestimated the strength, another rookie mistake, and had haphazardly smacked his own chest. His aura responded immediately by doing what it did best, numbing the pain and fixing the damage best he could. The fight had been dragging out for the past five minutes, but five minutes was already bad enough. Desperate affairs require desperate measures and right now, he needed that Sunlight Energy more than ever.
His breathing firm and sophisticated, Jaune's skin basked in the glorious yellow light that came with Sunlight Energy, sparks cracking and zipping in wild discharges of energy. Without delay, the once-savage beast now acted rather tamely, taking cautious steps back into the two trees that it came from slowly. He caught it ruthlessly shaking its head for a second time, assuming it was reassuring itself there was no concerns to tend to. He recalled from one of his lessons that the Grimm seemed to feed off negativity; from his personal experiences, Sunlight Energy was positivity incarnate, so he could see how they wouldn't go hand in hand together. The Grimm charged him for a third time, a lot more hesitantly so than the last two times, but it charged either way, covering the already-feeble distance between the two.
This time, Jaune went for the counteroffensive. As long as he held Crocea Mors, the energy would be able to stay present in the iron blade, containing it temporarily while still under his influence. He swung the Sunlight Energy-charged sword in a diagonal upwards motion, which was to meet with a downwards hack by the Beowulf's daunting paws; what ensued shorty after shocked him in a very desirable manner.
The blade struck true, incising most of the Grimm's lower arm in a clean cut. The Sunlight Energy then transferred from Crocea Mors to the rest of the damaged limb, working in overdrive. It travelled straight up the smaller wolf's shoulder to the top of its head, the impenetrable bone armour flaking off like dead skin and the black fur and flesh melting, turning into a disgusting goo-like substance. It howled in indescribable agony, the same melting muscle muffling its pained cries as if it were drowning in a deep lake of water. It vanished quickly to black ash, fading gently into the nighttime wind. A marvellous way to end a fight, one that became one-sided as soon as his newfound powers were introduced to the game.
"You're that good against the Grimm!? Oh my Oum, I'm so lucky to have you by my side." Feeling giddy was an understatement. Feeling giddy was a severe understatement. Jaune felt like the king of the world. His sword and shield quickly returned to the side of his hips. Off he went, skipping in merry contentment back to both Beacon and his dorm room.
-o-0-o-
The weekdays returned with a vengeance. Lessons were quite boring, aside from the obvious combat class, but other than that, it was just like any other day at Beacon. Seventy percent written work and overreacting to getting homework detentions and thirty percent actual training in the field of work. Who knew being a huntsman required so much written work? It turned out that Ren, Nora and Pyrrha went to some pancake house upon the orange-haired girl's iron fist of command. They then went out doing fun things with his sister team, one he actually wished he could've went to had he not exhausted himself the night prior. It wasn't too extravagant, much to his relief; they played some simple party games at some community park and hung out, etcetera, etcetera. Still, it did partially sting by how they decided to leave a note instead of getting Valkyrie to pour ten litres of ice-cold water onto his face and then dropping Magnhild two inches away from his head. Oh well, he'll go to the next one.
Also, was it odd to receive so many compliments by loads of girls in his lessons? Ever since he had discovered his Sunlight Energy, specifically after his fight with the smaller Beowulf, they've all been dying to ask how his skin and face gleamed with unadulterated beauty. He could've sworn Velvet blushed upon him trying to ask what was the next lesson was. Maybe he finally was getting all of the girls. Maybe his wish really was coming true. Jaune liked that a lot.
"Ahem, today's lesson will be a special lesson," Jaune rolled his eyes as soon as he heard Professor Oobleck introduce himself to the class. He said that for all his lessons. Special become not-so-special at this point. "For we are to learn of the Joestar bloodline." Oobleck declared excitedly. Today felt monotonous, yet so strange at the same time. For some reason, Jaune's interest peaked at that point.
"Now, does any one of you possess knowledge over the Joestar Family Tree?" Oobleck challenges his students. His question was responded to by the eager hands of Weiss Schnee, who was the only one to raise her arm.
"They're well-known partners to the Speedwagon Foundation, the second-largest supplier of Dust and overall wealthiest business on Remnant." She confidently responded.
"Correct, as expected by Miss Schnee." Weiss took the complement for granted. She always does, anyways. "Does anybody here hold knowledge over the Ripple?" The question met a few blank stares and confused glances. With Jaune, memories of the unfaltering water stubbornly refusing to leave its cup and the endless ripples popped into his mind.
"Sendo?" More lost murmurs and shrugged shoulders. "Hamon?" The knowledge was simply out of their reach. "Interesting, truly interesting..." Behind his back, the professor clicked a button from the remote, causing both the projector and whiteboard to spring to life.
"This man is Joseph Joestar, a natural-born Hamon user and future associate to the Speedwagon Foundation." If Jaune had water in his mouth, it would have gushed right out like a highly pressurised geyser. The differences between Hamon and Sunlight Energy... There were none. They were like identical twins, one in the same - maybe they were the same. Jaune felt much more awake at this point. The video on the board projected a young Joseph Joestar in a tight dark-green tank top that exposed his muscles and abs. He was built like a brick outhouse, an absolute beast of a man who could eclipse his own species. Joseph had on him a lengthy light-green scarf striped with thick vertical banana-yellow lines, blue ripped jeans and knee-high chocolate-brown boots. The media on the board played, and it depicted Joseph charging a pair of oiled iron clackers with Hamon, spinning them and bashing the two bearings together before throwing the thread attached to both heads like a boomerang. From there, it barged past a wall of thick, solid concrete with ease, breaking it again in order to return to its owner.
"That was my Hamon Clacker Volley, Smokey! Pretty sick if you're askin' me!" The students inferred Joseph to most likely be talking to the person holding the camera. For someone who had ties to a rich, aristocratic family, he acted a lot like the energetic guy down the streets. The hulking man came closer to the camera, crossing his arms over his chest and flexing his muscles. "Nice, amirite!" The video concluded, and the end product was a drooling Xiao Long and a blushing Scarlatina. What a lady-killer.
"Sir, what's so special about his Semblance?" Jaune pushed. Any answer was a good one.
"Ah, that's the catch! You see, Hamon isn't a Semblance inquisitively, but more like a technique; a breathing technique at that!" Oobleck's guidance was exactly what he wanted to hear: Sunlight Energy - or Hamon, he would have to call now - was a technique, a fighting style that could be learnt, trained and perfected.
"But Professor, wouldn't that mean people would try using this breathing technique in practice? Shouldn't we be seeing Hamon masters left and right by now?" Answers. More answers. He needed them dearly.
"In theory, yes. But as it turns out, we haven't. This recording was taken during the premiere of technicolor videos, which in itself was seventy-one years ago. That was during the later half of the Great War. Nineteen forty-two was the last ever physical proof of the existence of Hamon wielders, and you have just watched it." Jaune's pen scratched loudly against his notebook. "Also, it is Doctor Oobleck, not Professor."
"Right, sorry. What feats can Hamon achieve, Doctor?"
"More questions from today's lesson that the last week combined! You must really be enjoying this topic, my dear boy!" An ecstatic smile formed from both corners of Oobleck's cheeks. "We're about to get onto that right now."
The second video rolled on, and with it was a distant shot of Joseph standing in the arid, sandy deserts of Vacuo. He had himself in a fighting stance, one that perfectly mimicked Yang's own. Joseph's Hamon flared to life, vivid with plenty of life. A wild Boarbatusk charged its one-man stampede with the desire to skewer him and end his life. Big mistake. Joseph weaved his way narrowly past the two large protruding teeth, delivering a massive haymaker straight at the Grimm's forehead.
"Hamon Overdrive!" With subtle effort, the Ripple discharged into the Boarbatusk's head. The monster's skin bubbled and fizzed shortly before exploding. The fight ended in three seconds. The students stared at the video wide-eyed and slack-jawed, amazed beyond belief by how Joseph handled the huge Boarbatusk. Hamon meant business and it didn't have time to fool around.
Oobleck absolutely loved their shocked faces. "As you can see, Hamon is very potent when applied to anything. Joseph didn't have his Aura unlocked, so his hand should've shattered completely."
"But it didn't. Are you saying that Hamon has a healing factor?" This time Weiss added to the conversation, stung partially by how the Boarbatusk she had to fight dominated their fight until she gained the upper hand. It made her look stupid and incompetent to a degree. A simple nod of the doctor's head left her flabbergasted.
"It is said that one in ten-thousand are able to efficiently manipulate and generate such a powerful martial art; case studies state that being punched by a Hamon master in the solar plexus while meeting the stated requirements allow you to control the Ripple for yourself. Apparently."
"Professor, this lesson has been very interesting to learn, but is there any purpose to it? Nobody's found a Ripple user in almost a century and all of us here don't need it to ward off the Grimm. I don't see the practicality in all of, well, this." Ren criticised Oobleck's lesson with the best of intentions. The doctor should have seen this coming sooner or later.
"Most of us should be familiar of the saying: 'History is written only by its winners.' For the art of Hamon to forever be etched in Remnant's history would mean it had- has a large significance on our planet. Who knows - maybe one of us in this very room can properly manifest Sendo." An optimistic joke made by the doctor, one that unintentionally made Jaune slightly on edge. Should the young man tell him? Should he not? Jaune leaned tremendously in favour of the second argument. He could stall his big reveal until later.
"History is important because it holds evidence of human - and faunus - faults and achievements. We learn from our mistakes so that we avoid repeating them and we value our ancestors for their deeds we benefit from." The doctor's rant retired. The school afternoon had concluded. The pupils made their way out of the class door in small clusters. Jaune was the last to leave his seat, barely tailing along at the end of such a girthy line.
"Ren, Pyrrha, Nora, go ahead of me. I wanna speak to Doctory Oobleck for a bit." His request was greeted with a few raised eyebrows before they said anything. "Trust me, it'll be quick."
"Sure." The three of them waved Jaune a temporary farewell, all before catching up to team RWBY. Pyrrha had delayed herself by a few steps, salvaging one final glance at her crush giving her a reaffirming smile before shutting the door behind him. It shouldn't be much, she told herself, It's probably more questions on today's lesson. Right?
"Hey Professor-"
"Doctor Oobleck. Doctor. What is it, Mr. Arc?" The doctor interrupted Jaune upon hearing that title. Was it really that hard to remember a name such as Doctor Oobleck?
"Are you good at keeping secrets?" Jaune eyed Oobleck's own suspiciously. It was like as if he was revealing to the world of some heinous crime he kept under the rug for so long. There definitely were better approaches to starting a conversation like this.
"Information such as that cannot be disclosed between people such as you and me. Why must you ask-"
"I... Nevermind. I've had this issue for quite some time. It's been bugging me for the past few days and I thought I'd tell you about it - it probably isn't a big deal right now." Not now. Now wasn't the best time to tell Doctor Oobleck of his grand revelations, of his access to Sunlight Energy. Or Hamon. He wasn't sure if his Semblance and Hamon had identical properties, so he didn't know what to call it.
Oobleck gently rested his palm against Jaune's shoulder. "Mr. Arc... As a member of staff working for Beacon Academy, it is my - and my colleagues' - duty to resolve any issues that could negatively affect my students and their health." Barthomelew was a man of his words. "You can talk to me and I wouldn't judge, Jaune."
"Thanks, Doctor Oobleck," the yellow Arc was indebted at his teacher's meaningful words. "Can you forward me those Hamon videos from today's lesson?"
"Sure. I'll attach the necessary files to an email for your account." Jaune grinned both sheepishly and excitedly at the favour he had cashed in. He had begun his march out of the classroom hastily before having noticed a wilting plant. The plant looked pitiful and with each passing second it inched closer to death's gate. It looked far from attractive, shrivelled and dry beyond comprehension at the corner it found solitude in.
"You're the first person to ever stop and look at those anemone flowers, Jaune." Oobleck started a new topic.
"It looks like it died three months ago, Doctor; shouldn't you just throw it in the garbage by now?" Jaune gave his opinion to the subject at hand.
"Mr Arc, I am a man who doesn't find it easy give up. For quite a while I've been trying to help it in any method possible: I haven't given up on any of my students, peers or anybody of higher authority over me, so it would be hypocritical of me to treat those anemone flowers with such disregard."
Jaune contemplated deeply on his teacher's monologue and found humour in how he related so closely to the speech. In a way, he was like those anemone flowers, and his friends were Doctor Oobleck, specifically his team members. "I'll try helping to the best of my abilities then." Picking up the large water canister by the plant pot's side, Jaune poured the liquid contents at the soil it held, nourishing the plant with the water's mineral goodness. The anemone flowers looked as dead as it did before, only a bit wetter. Not everything can be helped, thought Jaune.
"I'll be off on my way to my team's dorm room, Professor. Thank you, thank you for everything today." Jaune re-placed the plastic canister back at the pot's side, the container half-empty in Jaune's eyes. He swung the door open, taking his leave. "Goodbye, Doctor."
"It's Doctor Oobleck- You know what, leave it for now. The pleasure's all mine, Mr. Arc." Helping people was a natural habit for a huntsman and teacher such as Barthomelew, but it was reasons such as that which ignited his passion for working at an academy such as Beacon.
A resonant sound that could be described as the effects of an activated Semblance by an experienced huntsman echoed quietly throughout the room. It caused Oobleck to instinctively grip Antiquity's Roast without shifting it into its flamethrower form. His eyes fixated straight at the source of the noise, the plant pot that held the anemone flowers. He cautiously approached the plant, wary of every step he took, and was visibly put off-guard by the sight he had captured. The sight in question was the anemone flowers, the poppy-like organism vibrant and brimming with life. Its petals were blood-red with fades of white tipped at each of the edges and the filaments at the centre were black like ground pepper seasoning. It was like a dead corpse had been brought back to life. What really caught Oobleck's attention was the yellow electric static that surrounded the flower. It was Hamon.
Oobleck, as if he took a second round of coffee, made a mad dash towards the door, his outstretched arm shoving the door wide open. "Mr. Arc! Mr. Arc-" Too late. Jaune had already disappeared, escaped his clasp by a few unlucky seconds. "Better luck next time..." He encouraged himself quickly before collecting his things and leaving the class.
"Was that really what you were trying to tell me?" Oobleck theorised aloud. Each step became slower and much softer.
"Can you use Hamon?"
There's that out of the way. I hope you enjoyed chapter 1, and I hope it was as realistic as it possibly could be in terms of capturing a character's personality and their reactions given a specific circumstance.
I hope my grammar and spellings are correct as well (United Kingdom SPaG, sorry America)
Any forms of constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Outright slander and hate comments for unreasonable, well, reasons will be overlooked.
Also, I won't be responding to comments unlike my previous other FanFictions (100 Percent On Remnant is still on hold, sorry).
Have a good day, and I'll be working on chapter two as soon as this gets published.