Story title: Blonde Menace
Summary: Jaune Arc. Liar, incompetent, cheat, and coward. Also playing mind-host to a parasitic psycho murder-ninja ghost that looked remarkably similar to himself. Well, the last one was a recent development. On the other hand, there's Minato Namikaze. Hokage, husband, legendary shinobi, and dead man. Well, at least up until now.
Chapter 1: Pilot
The second time Minato Namikaze died, he wasn't sure what he was expecting. Logically speaking, the Edo Tensei should've released him back into the Pure World. It was simply the way the technique worked. There was absolutely no reason, no reason at all why he should be here.
And yet, he was.
-¯\_(ツ)_/¯-
Jaune Arc was no stranger to panic. Whether it be from vomit-induced embarrassment on a Bullhead, or cross dressing-induced embarrassment at the hands of his sisters, the emotion of frantic anxiety was all too familiar to him. Would he like their relationship to be less intimate? Yes, absolutely. But it seemed that Fate didn't share that same sentiment.
"HELP! OH MY GOD, SOMEBODY HELP!"
Bounding through the Emerald Forest at top speed, tailed by a Deathstalker that was way too big, panic embraced him like a clingy ex-lover. He hated it.
The burn in his legs urged him to stop and relax, but the thing between his ears called his legs fucking idiots, and urged them to keep on pumping. Even so, the massive scorpion-like Grimm was gaining on him. And quickly.
Where he had to carefully navigate the low-hanging branches and labyrinth of roots that riddled the forest floor, the Deathstalker merely barreled through the trees and toppled them, all the while never losing balance with its 8 chitin-covered legs. His equipment wasn't doing him any favors, also. The steel breastplate that proudly adorned his chest was just dead weight, unlikely to even inconvenience the monster if it caught up. Useless. Crocea Mors was great and all, but he himself lacked the strength to push its blade through the hard outer-shell of the arthropod. Useless. And the sheath that transformed into a shield. It wouldn't do anything against a giant scorpion that could simply trample him. Also useless.
His lungs heaved as he carried his exhausted body further. Unshed tears dampened his eyes, hoping beyond hope that help was right around the corner. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be the case.
Fuck, he thought, am I really going to die here?!
"HELP~! GIANT DEATHSTALKER HERE!"
He knew he couldn't keep this pace forever, but at the same time, what could he do? The Deathstalker was around 8 meters behind him now, close enough that he could hear its angered chittering, and the click-click of its legs traversing the forest floor, carrying it ever closer towards its target.
What could he do? Offense was currently out of the question. He was exhausted from it chasing him around the forest; besides, even at peak strength he doubted that he could even scratch it. Climb up a tree? Out of the question. Too slow, and even if he could get up in time there was nothing stopping the beast from just toppling it anyway. There was nobody around that could assist. Only him right now.
Taking as deep a breath as he could, he readied himself. Gathering his meagre reserves of courage, Jaune steeled himself to do quite possibly the dumbest thing that he'd even done in his life, something that very well may mark the end of his life-
And then he stumbled on a tree root.
Oh. He thought, mildly hysterical. I'm going to die.
-¯\_(ツ)_/¯-
Minato wasn't sure what he was looking at. A young boy, running through a forest full-speed while… A giant scorpion pursued him? He wasn't aware of any native scorpion species in Konoha, other than in the Forest of Death. Even then, he'd never encountered one that could grow that large, especially one that unique. White protrusions seemed to sprout up from black chitin, forming a mask around its face and bony plates on its upper side. Was it an enemy summons? He'd never heard of any Scorpion Contracts.
Was this the Chunin Exams? Where was the boy's team? Why was he wearing a knight's armor, with a double-edged sword that he wasn't even nearly conditioned enough to wield properly? Why the hell wasn't he using any jutsu?
Those questions didn't matter now, though. It was clear that the pace that he set was one that he couldn't keep up with for long.
Needless to say, the kid wasn't doing too hot. He could feel the inklings of exhaustion dotting his incorporeal form, albeit faintly. Whatever viewing apparatus that he was seeing this from allowed for a degree of shared experience. He could see what the young man could see, and feel what he felt, though to a much faded extent. A rush of panic rose up within him as he saw, felt the boy trip over an overgrown tree root.
Well, that's not good at all, he whispered to himself.
And as the rumbling scorpion drew closer to the boy's downed body, Minato Namikaze made a decision.
Don't worry. I've got this under control.
-¯\_(ツ)_/¯-
Jaune counted his precious few seconds, gaping at the oncoming death that approached him. Dad, Mom, Sapphire, Hazel, Jade, Amber, Coral, Sable, Lavender. He had failed them. They were right to doubt him. In hindsight, how could they not? No training to speak of, no natural talent, he hasn't even unlocked his Aura for God's sake. And he decided to go to Beacon to start. He should've expected for something like this to happen, how could he be so arrogant that he thought it wouldn't?
But even then, a final burst of resolve sprouted from within.
Jaune Arc was a liar, an incompetent, a fool, and a cheat. But he would not die as a coward. He resolved himself on that.
"COME AT ME!" He screamed. The Deathstalker happily obliged, quickly skittering to his downed body with less than friendly intent. That probably wasn't the best thing to say, he thought.
And then he heard it.
Don't worry. I've got this under control.
The voice was so confident that he himself nearly believed it. Nearly, at least. Until he realized that he was so afraid that he had begun to hear voices in his head, and that there was no way a voice in his head could possibly do anything about the 3-tons of chitinous death currently charging at him at terminal velocity.
And then it happened. An invisible force took control of his tired muscles, forcing him to his feet, and unsheathing Crocea Mors. That settled it, then. He had well and truly gone batshit, balls-to-the-walls insane.
A fog settled itself over his mind, and then, darkness.
I don't wanna die...
-¯\_(ツ)_/¯-
The feeling of controlling a body again was… Strange. Unfamiliar, in the same way that riding a bike after years of inactivity would be. Of course, it wasn't exactly what he was used to, by virtue of it not being the same body, but immediately he was able to gauge the bare necessities. Reach, height, speed, strength. It wasn't as conditioned as he would've liked it, but he'd have to make do for now.
In the meantime, there was a giant scorpion out for his head.
Minato unsheathed the sword by his side, wincing at the unfamiliar weight in his hands. The concept of a double-edged sword... He had heard about them, of course, but they'd always been a subject of fantasy-novels and metaphors, almost never designed for practical use in the field. While Minato was somewhat familiar with wielding swords, he was much more comfortable using kunai. Nevertheless, he had to move quickly. There wasn't any time for hesitation.
In between the seconds before the collision, he unclasped the heavyset breastplate and threw away the unusually heavy sheath, freeing himself from the unnecessary weight. There was no margin for error in a situation like this. Defense wouldn't matter, if only because this body was so delicate. Hell, the chakra-reserves on this boy were so small that even he couldn't sense them. That explained why he wasn't willing to use any techniques, at least.
The blonde launched himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the stinger that had demolished the ground he once stood on.
He needed distance, if only to avoid a continuous barrage from the beast. In his current state, he simply couldn't afford that. A thrill ran through his body, adrenaline pumping through his veins. How many years had it been since he had felt this? A decade? Two?
As the Yellow Flash, the people willing to challenge him were depressingly scarce. Assassination missions against the man were jokes, mere political tools from enemy villages to get rid of thorns in their side with a convenient excuse. Even those had been few and far between; taking on suicide missions weren't exactly a popular pastime, after all. On the battlefield? By the time he had mastered the Hiraishin, battles became little more than chores to him; enemy jonin were reduced to stationary targets in space, their throats just as tender as the average genin's when faced with an enemy that could, for all intents and purposes, freeze time. Those weren't fights. They were merely slaughters.
But now, in the crushingly incompetent body of a boy in over his head, he could reclaim that feeling. The simple pleasure of getting his hands dirty with grime and sweat and blood.
His eyes snapped open, more alert than they had been in years. His blood sang in anticipation of the coming clash.
Minato Namikaze wasn't always known for his bloodlust.
But one didn't become a legendary shinobi by being a pacifist.
-¯\_(ツ)_/¯-
Ozpin passively sipped his coffee, eyes trained on the monitor. The earlier buzz among the faculty was sated now, cries for them to help the young man silenced as they gazed upon the scene, absorbed within the action.
He knew, of course, that Jaune Arc was in no risk of dying. It was a rather convincing facade that he put up, but you didn't live for thousands of years and not see through such obvious acts. What was the point of it? He himself wasn't too sure of the answer. Perhaps the boy knew he was being monitored, and wanted the staff to underestimate his ability? Possible, but what was the point of deceiving them? Of course, Ozpin wasn't fooled; not even for a split-second. He was the one who personally gave the green-light to this young man, after all. And how could he not?
Young Jaune Arc's transcripts painted a rather glowing picture for the consummate Huntsman-in-training, possibly even overqualified for the position of a mere student. It simply stood to reason that he wouldn't die so easily.
The desperate pleas for help that Mr. Arc had screamed were now silenced in favor of silent concentration. His once-playful cerulean eyes now hardened into chips of ice, so intense that they could be felt through the screen.
Yes! The Headmaster thought. Show me what you can do, Mr. Arc.
He sprang into action, movements polished and graceful, a sharp contrast to the comically fish-like flailing that he had displayed whilst trying to escape the Deathstalker. They were efficient and precise, each movement taking the least amount of energy possible, while achieving the desired effect again and again. He wielded his sword like a scalpel, utilizing the reach that the blade gave to keep as far away from the Grimm as possible.
These aren't the movements of a rookie student, Ozpin knew for fact, these were the movements of a seasoned veteran!
He flanked from right, taking advantage of the Grimm's poor reflexes to score a glancing blow on its right uppermost leg, quickly retreating from the claws trying to pin him down.
He's probing it. Of course, he didn't have enough information on the enemy, and so he's testing the limits. Like a jab from an experienced boxer, these blows weren't meant to deal heavy damage, but instead to find patterns in the opponent's movements and to establish a rhythm. How very intelligent.
Another glancing slash and quick retreat emboldened the young initiate. With confidence that he was able to hit without being hit himself, he quickly established a pattern of striking, then twisting out of the counter-attack with fluid grace. Catching his breath, he moved in again. If the Grimm attempted to rush him head-on, the boy simply maneuvered out of the way, either via a series of acrobatic flips, or simply just dashing out of the way to maintain distance.
On his 5th blow to the leg he had been focusing on, the limb gave way with a sharp pop. The Grimm hissed in anger, redoubling its efforts to both bisect and rip a hole in him.
-¯\_(ツ)_/¯-
Immediately, the sharp decrease in mobility was noted. The arachnid had a slight limp now, the beast forced to compensate for the sudden lack of limb. In return, the aggression he faced increased dramatically. Perhaps it realized that he was tired, or that it couldn't afford another limb lost in the same manner as the last. Regardless, it was getting more, not less difficult.
A sharp pivot to the left and another glancing blow landed to the other uppermost leg. This time, the scorpion knew better than to let up. A series of devastating blows rained down upon him from the stinger, while it tried to clamp down on him with its pincers.
Nimbly maneuvering his way out of the obstacles, he dashed again to the left, heart thudding loudly in his chest.
He positioned his sword against the furthest joint he could reach, hammering it in with an axe-kick. The beast screeched in pain, trying to steer itself back from the source of the pain. He wrenched his sword out of its impromptu sheath, a spurt of black fluid coming with it. Another hack of the blade, and the second leg was cut off.
A wild swing from its massive claw had him ducking away, and with deft grace, he dodged both the right appendage and the stinger, backing up from the danger.
More. More! Covered in scorpion blood and grime, his eyes wild, he must have been quite a sight.
The Grimm, having lost two of its primary legs, had now lost a significant portion of its agility. It shoved itself forward with its hind legs, a comical contrast to the speed that it had boasted while chasing him. The claws were dragged through the dirt, no longer having the support needed to carry them. 8 red eyes glowed with malice, still wholly focused on killing him, in spite of its own grievous injuries.
Nonetheless, he could feel his own body currently tiring, bending and breaking under pressure that it had never been trained for. He'd have to end this soon, or no doubt he would get caught with a stinger in his face. As long as he was cautious, though, this battle was practically won.
Minato dashed into the side left again, the double-edged sword a silver streak trailing in the air as the blade danced forward to slash against plated hide, leaving a trail of sparks as cold steel clashed with hardened chitin, but didn't penetrate into the flesh of the creature. He leaped back, twisting his upper-body to avoid the incoming claw, fluidly smashing the sharp edge into one of the incoming stinger's chinks.
He was rewarded with another spurt of ebony blood, this time with an eerie purple hue as poison leaked from the tail's open wound.
Retreating again to catch his breath, he leapt back, dodging the other massive pincer, so close that he could feel the wind blow his hair back. Good. Another blow like that would completely incapacitate his foe. With a disabled stinger and its mobility crippled, it would be a sitting duck for him to rip into.
A rare smirk came over his features. He had thought that the current state of his body would be a handicap, but it wasn't even a challenge anymore.
-¯\_(ツ)_/¯-
Pyrrha gaped at the scene before her. Any thoughts of doubt were completely erased, replaced by complete awe. The dorky boy that she had met before initiation, Jaune, her mind reminded her, was soloing a Deathstalker, his armor laying forgotten on the ground. It was like a scene out of a movie, so cinematic and unrealistic that she would've scoffed at anybody describing it, but she couldn't bring herself to doubt her own eyes.
What speed, what power! He was perfectly graceful as he dodged, weaved, and even flipped around the Grimm like a professional gymnast, all the while opening cuts over its limbs with adroit flicks of his blade. She had never seen such precise bladework from somebody else their age, even with all her years in competitive battle. It was only matched by one person. Herself. But she simply didn't have the sheer chutzpah to fly around the Grimm like an overdosing cricket, nor had she the actual ability to pull it off with such ease!
Her previously ill-conceived notion that she might be the strongest student of the first-years was just demolished by the exotic display of battle-prowess.
With a flourish of his blade, Jaune cleanly sliced through the stinger of the massive Grimm, and then stabbed his sword into the stump for good measure. The Grimm shrieked again in pain, this time louder than the last ones. She winced at the brutality of it. The Grimm was too slow to turn around to launch a counter-attack, its claws were too heavy to drag around quickly.
He's enjoying this, she realized. That look in his eyes, it's pure bloodlust!
Walking around the nigh-dead, twitching body of the scorpion, he began the arduous task of hacking away every leg, each limb detaching with a pop, and an inhuman cry of pain from the creature. Even then, the arachnid tried to fight back, thrashing around with its gargantuan body and swatting at the small human with its remaining legs. If any of the hits managed to land, they might've been able to cause serious damage, but in the face of such relentless opposition, its death throes seemed completely pathetic.
By the time the Grimm was down to 2 limbs, it appeared that it couldn't take any more punishment. With a final thrash, it began to dissolve.
The blonde stood over the remains of his conquered foe with an inquisitive look on his face, as if questioning why his enemy deigned to die instead of keep on fighting. A disappointed last look at the quickly dissolving body of his enemy, and he shrugged.
He slumped forward. Pyrrha tensed, dashing forward as he stumbled to his knees.
Of course, he's exhausted from that, no human could keep that pace and pull those stunts for long.
"I've got you, don't worry." She eased him up to his feet.
"Pyrrha? Am I dead? Ow, jeez, everything hurts." He rasped.
She laughed at his jests, the boy's expression a stark contrast from the icy-cold focus that he had shown while dissecting the Grimm.
"That was a pretty amazing display back there, " she said sincerely. "I didn't expect anybody so strong here at Beacon."
He looked back frantically at the corpse of his fallen foe, eyes widening as a, "Bwugh!?" made its way past his lips. "I killed it?! I mean, of course I killed it, not even difficult."
She nodded in agreement. "I know. I saw."
If it was possible, his eyes got even wider.
"You saw? You watched me, and didn't help?!"
"Ah," she winced, "Well, it looked like you had everything under control, you know? I thought I would've just gotten in the way. I couldn't shoot because you were moving so unpredictably, and-"
"No, no, it's fine." He peered curiously at her. "But it was very cool, yeah?"
"Yes Jaune, it was very cool." She chuckled at his antics. Well, one thing was for certain.
She wouldn't mind having Jaune Arc as her partner.
-¯\_(ツ)_/¯-
"Ozpin… That was astounding." Port whispered.
In response, he sipped at his coffee, the rest of the staff nodding in agreement. It was nearly unprecedented to have an initiate completely dissect an Elder Grimm in the same way that the young Arc had. Even in the second and third years, you'd be hard-pressed to find a student willing to take on such a terrifying beast alone.
"There's no doubt that Jaune Arc is a once-in-a-generation prodigy. Beacon will be lucky to have him." Glynda affirmed.
"And to have Pyrrha Nikos as his partner! Are we sure that we can balance this year's teams fairly?" Oobleck asked, slightly hysterical at the prospect of having such a monstrous team bulldozing the others. Ozpin couldn't blame him.
"It'll certainly be troublesome, but we'll manage." Honestly, he was excited at the opportunity. Having so many bright, young students joining them. The undisputed cream of the crop, all concentrated into Beacon.
The future was certainly looking bright.
-¯\_(ツ)_/¯-
"Jaune Arc, Lie Ren, Pyrrha Nikos, and Nora Valkyrie. The four of you retrieved the white rook pieces. From this day forward, you will work together as Team JNPR."
He and the others cheered in celebration, though his movement was slightly stilted by his exhaustion. Apparently he had strained his entire body during his blackout-induced fit of badassery, and so he had to rely on Pyrrha to carry him throughout the remaining duration of Initiation. Luckily, it seemed that Fate didn't have any more life-threatening situations in store for him… for now, at least.
"Led by… Jaune Arc!"
He took that back.
"Huh!?"
Him? Appointed as team leader?! Why? He hadn't even done anything except black out and limp his way out of initiation on Pyrrha's back! How could he be expected to lead a team?
The rest of the team chuckled at their leader's shocked expression, Jaune still limping with Pyrrha supporting him. He'd already been checked at the infirmary, but the nurse there assured them (almost disappointedly, for some odd reason) that he'd only need bedrest and a temporary reprieve from strenuous physical activities for a complete recovery, much to Jaune's relief.
They were guided to their dormitory room by a member of the staff and, upon being informed that they were done for the evening, decided to unpack and retire for the evening.
Jaune hadn't packed much for his tenure at the Huntsman academy, only sparing room for clothes, his armor, Crocea Mors, some food, and a canteen of water, but even unpacking that little had his muscles screaming at him in anger. He felt pathetic, struggling at such a trivial task, so he just gritted his teeth and kept pushing forward, hoping his teammates wouldn't notice.
"You really should be taking it easy, Jaune." Lie Ren, his teammate exasperatedly scolded. "Acting tough isn't going to give you any brownie points with us."
And of course, they noticed.
He sheepishly scratched his cheek, "Yeah, sorry about that. It's just that I feel… really pathetic not being able to do this, you know?"
"You don't need to be, " Pyrrha refuted firmly, "Injuries are serious business, there's absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Here, we'll help."
"Mmm-hmm!" Nora agreed, mouth full of syrupy pancakes that she'd somehow liberated from the school cafeteria. How she'd gotten ahold of them? He didn't know, and she wasn't willing to tell.
With the assistance of his teammates, the process of unpacking his belongings was swiftly expedited, and within a few minutes the room was covered in decorative ornaments and paraphernalia, mostly of Nora's. He relaxed into the soft sheets and pliable mattress, his aching body finally given respite.
Today had been a good day, somehow. He made it through initiation relatively unscathed, managed to impress a girl, and finally made it into the school of his dreams, now well on the way to becoming a respected Huntsman. The thought had the corners of his mouth turning up in a glowing smile.
"That's a happy expression." Came an amused voice from the bed. Pyrrha Nikos. His partner, teammate, and the aforementioned girl he impressed. She sat at the foot of her bed in her nightwear, also preparing to get to bed. The other two were already settled into their own beds, fast asleep.
"Yeah. I guess I'm just surprised I've come this far already."
She arched an eyebrow. "Surprised? At what, passing initiation? Have more self-confidence, Jaune. With your skills I'm sure that you already stand head and shoulders above a majority of the students here, first-years or not."
Okay, now Jaune was really curious about what he had done.
"Out of curiosity's sake..." Jaune began, "What did the fight look like from your perspective?"
"Trying to fish for more compliments?" Pyrrha giggled at Jaune's indignant refusal, waving him off. "It was a joke, Jaune. Well, it was… The way you fought was strange, you know. A standard hit-and-run strategy, to be sure, but the way you moved was graceful and almost... showy in a certain sense." She put a finger on her lips, recalling the fight. "The general pattern seemed to be you charging in, landing a clean blow or two to the legs of the Grimm, and then dancing away, usually just ducking and backing away, but sometimes you flipped around, dodging the claws and stinger mid-air." Her eyes sparkled at the memory. "You've got to teach me some of those moves sometime, okay?"
He numbly agreed, all too aware of the fact that he had no idea how he pulled off those stunts himself. The truth nipped at him, his conscience urging him to tell his partner the truth of the matter, but he couldn't bring himself to confess to her before she continued.
"You cut away both of its front legs, and right after that you cut off its stinger. The Deathstalker couldn't do much after that. You just hacked away its legs and it died." She looked at him oddly. "If you don't mind me asking, why do you ask?"
"Oh, you know. Still in a bit of shock at the fact that I had single-handedly beat such a powerful Grimm, you know?" He chuckled, though his mind didn't reflect the sound. The temptation to reveal the truth grew stronger still.
"I understand. It is a bit hard to digest experiences like that. It feels surreal at first, yeah?"
His eyes found their way to the ceiling, mulling over the consequences of what he was about to say to her.
"Pyrrha. It's not that. I-" His eyes pinched together, hesitant at the prospect of her reacting badly. The first woman that you ever impress, and you're already planning on ruining that impression? He ignored the thought, not wanting to bear the guilt he would feel from lying to his partner. What kind of partnership would it be if it was built on a silly, stupid lie?
"I don't even know what happened there." He looked over to see her reaction, expecting incredulity or scorn, but only found curiosity. She opened her mouth to ask, but he beat her to it. "Look, I was running from that thing, right? I tripped on a tree root. Stupid, I know. And then the strangest thing happened, Pyrrha." Jaune shook his head, as if disbelieving of his own story. "I heard a voice in my head. It said it was going to save me, or something like that. I was convinced that I was going to die, so I chalked it up to simple hysteria."
His eyes widened as he continued his tale. "Pyrrha, my body moved on its own, it was like I was possessed. I don't even remember doing anything after getting up and unsheathing my sword. I just… fainted or something like that. The next thing I remember was waking up, sore as hell, and with you supporting me. A dead Grimm dissolving right next to me."
"I thought you saved me, Pyr. Right before you started talking about how amazing I was." He choked on his next words. "Look, I don't even have my Aura unlocked. I forged my transcripts to get in here. I don't even have any previous training." That got a reaction out of her. A slight widening of her eyes was a clear indication of her shock, but her mouth stayed closed, beckoning him to continue speaking.
"So I'm not exactly sure what I pulled off, much less how I pulled it off." He finished quietly. "Whatever you saw me do, that wasn't me who did it. I shouldn't even be here. The fact that I'm alive is a miracle."
Jaune waited for Pyrrha's judgement. The awkward silence stretched on far longer than he would've liked, while the Champion deliberated on her response to the heavy load that Jaune had just deigned to drop her with before they went to bed.
"You said that your Aura hasn't been unlocked yet." He nodded in confirmation. "Would you like that to change tonight?"
Eyes widening, he excitedly nodded. The Champion sighed, moving to the seat of his own bed in preparation of the ritual.
"To be honest, I don't even know what to think right now, Jaune. The fact that you're willing to tell me this is touching. It would make me feel awful to betray you by turning you into the headmaster as a fraud after you trusted me with this." She sighed again. "But my previous statement still stands. Have some more confidence in yourself. What I saw wasn't the work of some rookie good-for-nothing." She stopped him from speaking. "I don't care if you were possessed by some voice in your head, it was still you who dealt with that Deathstalker single-handedly. Don't forget that. You have potential, Jaune. A lot of it. So don't waste time talking about how undeserving you are to be here, got it? That ticks me off."
Jaune stared at her in awe, a warm dusting of pink accenting the pigmentation of his cheeks, invisible under the dim lighting that the lamp provided.
She smiled now, tired from the day's events. "Come on. I want to unlock your Aura and go to bed now."
"Gotcha. So, uhh, how does this thing work?"
"I'm not too well-practiced in it myself, to be frank. But it should be fine." The words clearly didn't fill Jaune with glowing confidence, but she pushed forward. "It's more of a ritual on my end than anything, so don't worry. There's very little risk to you."
Pyrrha pressed her hands against his chest, ignoring his dark-red flush at the close contact, and began to chant. "For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all, infinite in distance and unbound by death. I release your soul and by my shoulder protect thee."
A bright golden glow surrounded his body as a dam, deep within his soul, broke open and shattered. A deluge of warmth spread from his navel all the way down to the tips of his toes. Much to both Pyrrha and Jaune's embarrassment, a low, throaty moan snuck its way past his lips as his newly unlocked Aura set to work on melding his battered body. Relief spread through every pore, as the pleasure, damn near orgasmic in its intensity, had his toes involuntarily curling in bliss. As the glow died down and the feeling faded away, he realized what he had just done.
He yelped in mortification, while Pyrrha mirrored his red-faced expression. "I am so sorry-!"
"Hmm… Jauney? Pyrrha? What are you… zzzz... Doing?" Nora rolled over, eyes half-lidded as she woke at the sound.
"Nothing!" They both squeaked simultaneously.
"Go back to bed, Nora. Please." Jaune pleaded, but the orange-haired girl was already back to snoring like a jackhammer.
"Let's go to bed now." Pyrrha said quickly, flush still fully visible.
"Y-yep, good idea," Jaune stuttered out.
As they both settled into bed, the blonde's exhausted eyelids fluttered shut, but not before hearing a mutter, "Goodnight, Jaune."
"Goodnight, Pyrrha." And with that final utterance, he let himself succumb to the sweet respite that sleep had offered him.
And Jaune Arc dreamt.
-¯\_(ツ)_/¯-
What was that? Pyrrha asked herself, eyes fixed on the ceiling, still completely mortified at the earlier scene. It seemed that Jaune didn't think it was enough to confess all of his sins to her right before bed, he just had to do something... Something like that!
Okay, deep breaths, Pyrrha, deep breaths. Calm down, you have more important things to worry about! It took a monumental effort to steer her train of thought onto the right track.
She mulled over the information that Jaune had told her earlier. The most likely, and most obvious explanation for his situation was that he had awakened his Semblance during a time of incredible duress, but she'd never heard of somebody unlocking a Semblance before having their Aura, as the general theory went that Semblances were fuelled using the mysterious energy. Therefore, that should've been impossible.
But that one detail niggled at her mind. The voice. He had specifically mentioned hearing a voice, telling him that it would save him.
Was it possible that a split personality had somehow awoken and taken over at that moment? If so, how was it so good at fighting? Why could he pull off such incredible feats of strength? It was clear that it was at the cost of Jaune's own wellbeing, evident by his current state, but the mind had built-in limits to avoid the body over-taxing itself in the way that the blonde did. Did this hypothetical new personality not have those self-imposed limits? What did that mean for Jaune?
Pyrrha was no psychologist herself, but these assumptions all seemed a bit fantastical. She gave a little yawn, evidence of her weariness. Best to save these questions until morning. It wasn't like she was going to get any concrete answers like this.
Besides, she was sure that there was a reasonable and rational explanation behind this all. No need to overcomplicate it.
-¯\_(ツ)_/¯-
Jaune Arc woke up in a room with bright white walls, and with a knife to his throat. He blinked once, then twice. This felt way too vivid for a dream.
A smooth, sharp voice rang out from behind him, probably belonging to the person holding him at knife-point.
"Talk. Now."
He gulped.
-Chapter 1: Pilot END-
AN: End of the first chapter of my first story! Essentially, the premise of the story is that Minato Namikaze gets released from the Edo Tensei, but instead of rejoining Kushina in the Pure Land like he would've expected, he gets isekai'd into Jaune's headspace. Luckily, it has a lot of empty spaces, so more room for him! Ozpin commentates on the fight like an exposition-spewing anime character, Pyrrha unintentionally pleasures Jaune, and Minato threatens to kill him right after.
In all seriousness, I'm really excited for this project, and I hope that I'll be able to see it through to the end. I've been lurking on this site for a while, enjoying the many works that this place has to offer, so I figured that it would only be right to try to return the favor.
I know that the RWBY/Naruto crossover category is one largely dominated by NeonZangetsu's works, and with all respect to him, that man is a complete machine in the best way possible. The way he pushes out 5-10k chapters damn near every day is astounding, and so I'm not going into this thinking that I'll have any hope of competing with him. LOL, this chapter is ~5.7k words, taking me 3 days to write up, and by the end of it I thought I was mighty productive, before realizing, huh, that NeonZangetsu guy and Coeur Al'Aran do this daily.
That reminds me, I'll be using Coeur Al'Aran's backstory for Jaune in this story. It fits nicely, and it's nice and fleshed out already. Make sure to go check out his stories, he's a super talented dude.
Any questions, comments, or concerns? Leave them in the reviews! I'll take a look at every one of them. Constructive criticism is always welcome, I'm completely new to creative writing, so I will try to keep any advice that you can give in mind. I'm starting this project with the hope that I'll be able to grow and polish my creative-writing skills in a way that's enjoyable to me, not just mind-numbingly slogging through dull school assignments.
Anyway, Sorry for bloating the word-count with this awfully-long author's note, I'll be off now. Thanks for reading!
Edit: ffnet fucked up the formatting, so the dividers that were meant to indicate a change in POV were all deleted. Hopefully it's fixed now that I've gone in and manually entered all of them. Jeez. Thanks to the reviewer cyboot who pointed it out!