Beacon Gym

Chapter 1

A fighting chance

A bell tolling twice coincided with an exhausted Jaune Arc collapsing onto a stool on his side of the ring. His head fell back against the post; the lights above him were blurry to his vision, but the sweat running through his eyes didn't help.

Suddenly his head was pulled forward firmly, and he stared into the face of his trainer, Mitch. The man's gray mustache moved as he opened his mouth in exaggerated gestures, and from what little Jaune could make out it seemed to be advice. Too bad the blood pumping in his ears was so loud, he would have liked to hear what he was being told.

A straw was shoved into his mouth and he lapped up the provided water greedily, and just after he got the last bit down, the familiar bell tolled once again. With a heavy pull at the ropes, he hoisted himself up and walked back into the centre of the ring with heavy steps.

He came face to face with his opponent for the third time that match, a silver haired boy around his age. He pondered what his name was –Mercedes? Melvin? - before the bell rang again.

Jaune snaps into a form beaten into him for months, though his arms protested and feel like they'd drop to his side at any minute.

His opponent could probably tell too, if the smirk he seemed to have was any indication. He danced around from left to right, keeping his distance. The movements of an outboxer. He had been moving on just about the edge of Jaune's range the entire match, matching him punch for punch. He was way slower though, and every time Jaune swung he would just get easily avoided and hit.

'I should rush him and go for clinches.' Jaune thought to himself, his mind not nearly as exhausted as his body. However, he took one step forward and there was a sudden burst of motion. He felt a force against the side of his face and then he was looking back at the same lights he had seen a few minutes ago.

"1!"

There was a count from the referee, which confused Jaune for a second before reality set in on him. With strength he was sure he didn't have before he turned his body around onto his stomach.

"2!

A part of his mind whispered to him to give up, to just go down and end his suffering. He forcefully ejected these thoughts from his mind.

"3!"

'An Arc never gives up.' A familiar elderly voice whispered in his mind.

"4!"

Using his gloved fist, he pushed himself up. Steadying himself with a hand on his knee, he dragged his body up to full height and looked back at his opponent.

"5!"

The referee stopped counting at this point. He walked over to Jaune and waved his hands in front of his face.

"You okay kid? Can you keep going?"

Jaune let out a long breath and gave a nod, maintaining eye contact. The referee scrutinized him for a few seconds before nodding back

With a swing of the ref's hand, the fight continued. Jaune lifted his arms back up once again, locking eyes with his opponent. The smirk seemed to have not left his face. A feeling of vexation spiked in Jaune's head as he saw the smug look.

His opponent lifted a hand up, bending it back and forth in what Jaune could tell was a 'come hither' motion. As close to one as you could perform while wearing a boxing glove anyway.

Jaune grit his teeth, and with tremendous effort, dashed forward. A textbook jab was launched. His opponent ducked under it and backed away. Jaune followed and jabbed again, this time aiming for the body, his opponent jumped back and it went nowhere near.

Frustration overriding the exhaustion in his mind, Jaune continued to follow. It was a game of cat and mouse, as every punch he managed to throw was dodged, but Jaune wasn't sure if he was the cat or the mouse.

The adrenaline was wearing off and Jaune could feel the ache he felt in his legs come back slowly. He needed to finish this now. But would his legs allow it?

'Guess we'll just have to find out.'

They clashed again, and Jaune went in for a jab like always. He could swear he saw the other man roll his eyes as he proceeded to dance away like normal. Jaune followed him with his eyes and stopped his jab mid swing.

A feint.

With burning legs, Jaune took a heavy step inwards with his right foot. He was right on top of his opponent. He twisted his body to the side and pushed all his power into a single devastating right hook. There was a slight widen of his opponent's eyes as he set his fist loose.

"It's called conditioning."

A small Jaune sat at the feet of a much older man, the wrinkles and lines set deep into his face. His hair was mostly gray, but there were certain strands that gave away the same colour as young Jaunes own hair.

"Conditioning?"

"Yes Jaune, conditioning." The old man smiled down at the boy, "It's where you fool your opponent, make them used to you doing one thing, then," He raised up a wrinkled hand and clenched it., "you react to that and hit them with something they don't expect."

Jaune's face folded inwards in distaste, "I dunno gramps, it sounds kinda dirty."

Jaune's grandfather let out a bellowing laugh and slapped the arm of his rocking chair, "Ha ha, I'm sure it does to you doesn't it little knight?" He leaned backwards with a creek, "You'll learn that mind games are just as important as fighting ability as soon as you start fighting."

With some effort, he leaned down and placed a hand on Jaune's head., "But if you ever listen to anything I ever say, it's this: Don't think you can only use one without the other. They're meant to be used together. Relying too much on either falls apart…"

Jaune's fist was centimetres from his opponent's face, but suddenly there was a flash of movement. Jaune's hand jerked to the side away from him, and he stared wide-eyed as his opponent used his left hand to deflect his punch away. He hadn't seen him use it the entire match!

"...When someone's better than you at both."

His opponent's face was serious, and he stepped forward into Jaune's wide open defenses. The first blow hit him in the stomach, causing him to topple forward, before an uppercut hit him and blew his head backwards.

He fell like a tree cut down, slamming his back into the mat. His vision was simultaneously filled with stars and blackness around the edges

There was one final ring of the bell as the black engulfed Jaune's vision.

"Winner by knockout, Mercury Black!"

"Coach please, give me another chance!"

"Sorry kid." The gruff voice of Mitch replied to a bandaged up Jaune. They were at the front of his local gym 'The Ansel Knockout'. "You've had three fights and lost em all. We aint the biggest gym, you know, we can't afford to invest in someone that isnt gonna win fights and bring in money," There was a flash of guilt in Mitch's eyes as he saw Jaune's betrayed expression, and he laid a hand on his shoulder, "Look kid, it's the owner, I wanted to keep giving you chances. You're a smart kid, with enough training, I'll know you'll put it to good use, but... He has final say." Mitch hoisted up a gym bag and shoved it into Jaune's arms.

"Like I said, you got a good head on your shoulders. I'm sure there's tons of other places you could put that to good use." And with one final look at Jaune, Mitch turned around and disappeared through the door.

Jaune stood in front of the gym for a bit as the weight of what just happened sunk in. Eventually he took his bag by the handle and hoisted it around his shoulder. Sniffing and blinking his eyes to hold back tears, he made his way towards the bus stop, before cursing and realising it was a sunday. He'd have to walk.

A crash of thunder above preempted a torrent of water falling from the sky at that moment, completely drenching Jaune and his bag in a few moments.

Jaune sighed as he began his trudge towards home. At least no one could tell if he cried now.

A harsh clicking sound rang out as Jaune unlocked the door to his apartment. He pushed the door with his shoulder and there was a screech as it dragged along the floor. It stopped just before he could get his entire body through and with a growl he slammed his shoulder into it. He yelped as the feedback caused his arm to ache, but it got the job done. Slipping through and closing the door much more easily than opening it, Jaune flicked the lights on and threw his bag onto the couch that took up most of his small living room.

A single droplet rolled down his hair and dripping off his nose reminded him of his need to shower. He just hoped the hot water was working.

After a luckily semi-hot shower, Jaune walked back into his living room in a new set of clothes. He palmed his head as he saw the wet patch his bag was making on his couch. Taking the bag and flinging it into his bathroom on a spare towel, he sat down on the dry part of the couch and held his head in his hand.

'I'm screwed.' He thought, 'So so fucking screwed.' He let out a loud sound of frustration and slammed his fist into the couch and the leaned back, hands still on his head.

'If I can't fight I can't go pro, if i can't go pro I can't make money, If I can't make money I can't pay rent. If I can't pay rent…' Slowly his mind went through the process of events, each new thought hitting him in the stomach and making his chest feel heavier.

He leaned forward and buried his face in the couch, letting out a muffled shout. After a short shouting session, Jaune stayed face down on his couch, body slump. Eventually it got hard to breathe in that position, so he turned his head to the side. The pictures on his table came into view.

Jaune sat up and leaned forward, taking the closest photo into his hand, as he had come accustomed to doing. After each loss, you needed some way to cope with the frustration. For Jaune, it was looking into the happy faces of his family. The picture was taken during his 17th birthday party, and his family surrounded him all with smiles on their faces.

His eyes trailed to the faces of his parents, standing at the back with smiles on their faces. Jaune's face dropped at the sight of them. The last time he saw them they weren't nearly as happy.

"Absolutely not!" His father said with finality, he had sat his parents down in the kitchen and broached the topic of boxing to them.

"You can't stop me!" Jaune shot back, "I'm twenty dad! I stopped being a kid a long time ago!"

"You live under my house so you follow my rules." His dad said heatedly, his arms crossed.

His mother had a worried look on her face as she stood in between her husband and son, "Boys…"

Jaune's face grew red as he shouted, "I don't have to be! I can leave any time I want."

"What, and be homeless?"

"If that's what it takes!" Jaune slammed his hand down on the kitchen table, "Grandpa went through worse things before he became great!"

"Don't bring him into this!"

"It's hard not to, he was my hero! How are you going to deny me this when you started boxing for the same reason?!"

"And because of that I know you'll never be good enough!" You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed. Jaune's mother looked at her husband in shock, and there seemed to be instant regret on his face.

"Nicholas…"

Jaune's eyes stung with tears, and he held his hands in an iron grip. His father took a step forward, and Jaune stepped back.

"Son, I-"

"No I get it." Jaune spat, "Good to know I have such a supportive father." Before anyone could say anything else, he turned and ran out of the kitchen, past his sisters, who had been hiding around the corner watching, and out the door.

His grip on the photo tightened at the memory, and he set it down. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he held them back. His gaze wandered to the second photo on his small table, picking it up next.

The picture was old and tattered, and the frame even hid a tear down the right-hand side. It was black and white, signaling a time long past. There was a man in the centre of the picture, who looked like his father, and even him, despite his hair and eyes lacking colour. He held two belts, one over each shoulder. The text on the belt was ineligible due to the low quality of the photo but he knew what the belts said.

'Middleweight world champion' and 'Super middleweight world champion.'

He had heard the stories of how they had been obtained many, many times when he was small. Because the man in the picture was his grandfather and hero: Alexander Arc.

A hero who would surely be disappointed if he was still alive today.

The tears on the edge of his vision overflowed at that point, falling down his face and onto the glass of the photo frame. Jaune wiped the water off and set it down, worried that the tears now freely running down his face would damage his prized possession.

He curled up in a ball on the couch, letting out a sob as he finally let the tension release. He looked at the picture with watery eyes.

"I'm sorry Gramps…"

Jaune fell asleep shortly afterwards.

'In and out, in and out…' was the mantra that Jaune chanted to himself as he jogged through his local park. As bad as his apartment was, the one good thing was the location: a decently sized park was no more than five minutes away.

Slowing down to a walk, Jaune came to a stop at an upcoming bench. He leaned against it, waiting for his breath to even out, before sitting down.

Not many people were around, only a few tired looking people being pulled along by their dogs and other equally as tired looking people who were unfortunate enough to have to work this early.

You'd think people who had to work this early would get used to it eventually. It seemed, however, that the few familiar faces he did see never did. Jaune shook his head as he watched one with dead looking eyes walk past him, cradling a steaming paper cup. They could easily avoid this with some exercise in the morning to get the blood flowing.

Instead most people relied on coffee.

Jaunes face crumpled at the thought. Forget the negative effects on your health, he didn't even know how people stomached the stuff. It tasted like tar.

'Though,' Jaune thought as he leaned back, 'I can't really blame them too much, I was the same before i started boxi-'

A ball of sadness dropped into his stomach at the thought, and Jaune bit his lip.

'It's been a week,' He told himself, 'Get over it Jaune.'

If only it was that easy. Jaune sighed, getting lost in his own thoughts for a moment. A sudden ringing from his pocket startled him back to attention, and Jaune fished his phone out of his pocket. HIs eyes widened as he looked at it.

"Shit!' He exclaimed as he stood suddenly, startling a person walking their dog nearby. The dog barked at him as he put his phone back in his pocket and ran towards home.

'I'm so damn late!'

Jaune panted as he rounded the corner of the stairs of his apartment complex, 'Stupid 3rd floor apartment!'

He jogged down the hallway, trying to pace himself for the mad dash he would have to make to work. He hard turned as he came up to his door, fishing through multiple of his pockets for his keys.

'C'mon c'mon!' Jaune thought to himself hurriedly, patting himself down. With an 'Ah ha!' Jaune held the newly found key aloft in triumph-

"Jaune Arc?"

Before dropping it with a startled yelp at the sound of a voice behind him. His key clanged against the floor as he turned around.

Standing behind him seemed to be an older man. White hair was visible underneath a black bowler hat with a white stripe just above the bill. He wore a buttoned-up trench coat, black slacks and boots. A green scarf was wrapped around his neck and a pair of small round spectacles were placed on the end of his nose, just below a pair of inquisitive brown eyes.

He held a cane in one hand, which he seemed to be leaning on slightly.

Jaune froze for a moment in the man's gaze, prompting him to speak up again.

"Jaune Arc, I presume?"

This snapped Jaune back to attention, and the thought of his lateness to work re-appeared back in his mind. He stole a glance at his key now on the floor before answering, "Uh, yeah that's me." He shuffled his foot towards his key, "But, uh, I don't have time-"

The man hit the ground with his cane, "Marvelous!" a small smile appearing on his face. Jaune jumped at the sound, "I've finally found you, my boy. I must say it wasn't easy, you really do know how to disappear don't you?"

Jaune didn't like the sound of where this was going, 'I better end this quickly', "Well, I'm a private sorta guy y'know? I keep to myself." He dragged his key back to him using his foot, quickly bending down to pick it up. Once it was firmly in his hand, he quickly turned back around, unlocking his door in one swift motion,

"And unfortunately, ya kinda caught me at a bad time. So I kinda have to go." He pushed forward into his door with his shoulder, only for a screech to emit from it as it barely moved.

'Damn it!'

"Ah that is unfortunate, my boy." The older man said from behind him, as Jaune took to repeatedly bashing his shoulder into his door in hopes that it would move, "I'll make what i have to say quick then. I have come with an offer, something you might find very lucrative."

"Yeah I'm not," SLAM "Looking to," SLAM "Buy anything," SLAM.

The other man let out a chuckle at that, "Not that type of offer, Mr Arc." He then shifted his free hand into his pocket, making Jaune tense. Only for Jaune to relax as he pulled out a small white card, "I would explain more, but you seem desperate to get going." His hands moved fast, and before Jaune knew it, he was patting the pocket of his jacket, the new weight of the card inside.

Jaune paused in his door slamming, mouth falling open in shock at the sight, "There's a brief explanation on the card, as well as a number to call. Do try and get back to me in a timely manner, hm?" With that, he started to walk past Jaune, before stopping.

He lifted his cane, and with a swift motion, slammed it into the lower part of the door. There was a squeak and a loud screech as it flung open, causing Jaune, who had his weight firmly placed against it, to topple forward with a startled yell.

Bewildered, Jaune quickly pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and looked backwards. The man was still there, and he offered a tip of his hat, "Have a good day, Mr Arc." and with that he was out of sight.

Jaune sat there, flabbergasted, for a short while. His mind still processing that entire series of events. He reached up to the pocket the man had placed the card in, only for a buzzing and ringing coming from another pocket to draw his attention. He fished his phone out, and held it to his ear, "Hello?"

An angry voice could be heard coming from the other end of the line, causing Jaune to shoot up to his feet.

"Oh, Boss- Yeah I'm so sorry- No, no, I'll be right there!"

Thinking about that strange interaction would have to wait, he thought.

"We need two cinammon rolls to table three!"

"On it!"

"Three donuts to table two!"

"Yes sir!"

"Uh, excuse me, I need some extra napkins over here."

"I'll be on it right aw-aaaaaaaugh!"

Two round trays flew into the air as Jaune fell forward, round baked treats flying into the air. Customers around him looked his way in surprise as he hit the floor. There was a brief moment of silence, where Jaune quickly got up with red cheeks.

He raised his hand, several apologies ready on his tongue, but there was a sudden clatter of metal behind him as something sticky landed on his head with a 'splat'.

Jaune flinched. Reaching behind his head, he grabbed hold of one of the donuts he previously had on his plate. A wave of snickers from some younger patrons in the corner of the bakery broke the silence, and heat crept up into Jaune's cheeks.

A shout came from the other opposite end of the room, "Jaune! I can't believe you just did that, oh wait…" An older, rounder, shorter and severely more bald man stomped over towards him. His face was red, and that meant the redness spread to his shining cranium, "I can, because you're useless!"

Jaune opened his mouth to apologise again, but the other man was still mid-rant, "I hired you out of the generosity of my heart, because you needed it! And this is how you repay me?" Jaune had to struggle not to react at that statement, "Clean this up, then go clean yourself up and get these valued customers," he sent a cheesy smile at the onlookers staring in silence, "Some fresh treats.

"Y-yes boss." Jaune said quickly, his face and ears growing hotter by the second. He quickly bent down and gathered up his tray, picking his spilled treats up in record time before dashing away. He swerved around an older coworker, the only other one on this shift, who gave him a look of pity mixed with sympathy.

As he got behind the counter, he heard, "And those donuts are coming out of your paycheck!" as he rushed through the door to the employee area.

Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it and let out a shaky breath. He lifted his stained apron over his head with his free hand and threw it onto a nearby bench. He walked past the employee lockers, and emptied the tray into a nearby trash can and set it on the side.

Luckily for him, his work clothes had taken minimal damage. Unluckily for him, his hair had taken most of the damage.

'What i wouldn't give for a shower right now. Oh well, a sink and hand soap it is.' Jaune thought to himself as he stood over said sink. He was sure that if it was up to his current boss, there'd be no sink at all.

When he had started working at the bakery, it had been under the ownership of a kind elderly couple. Time had caught up to the couple, and they needed help. It had been smaller then, and all that was needed was him and one other employee.

Jaune frowned when he ran a soapy hand through his hair. Time seemed to catch up to them quicker once he joined, because a few days after he heard the husband, the one everything was owned by, had passed away.

His other boss, not savvy to the business side of things, was quickly overwhelmed with everything. That combined with dealing with the grief was too much for her and she quickly sold it off to a larger chain of bakeries.

The next week or so was quick and hectic. The shop was quickly remodeled, changed from a small, cozy familial place, to one of the hundred others that shared its name. The worst part was the sheer upgrade in size. Jaune wasn't actually that worried about losing his job, the logical take was that a bigger place meant they couldn't afford to fire people, right?

He was right about that one, but they just refused to hire anyone else.

His new boss was to blame for that one, the man would cut back on how many times his employees took a breath if he thought it saved him money.

Jaune dried his hands off on a towel, and quickly got dressed back into his uniform. His hair was a little wet but it didn't really matter. As he put his apron back on and dusted himself off, the crinkle of cardboard sounded out. A bit confused, he reached down into his pocket and took out the card he had received this morning.

He didn't even know why he put it in his pocket in the first place. Come to think of it, he hadn't even had a chance to read it. It was a bit crumpled and bent, but the words seemed still legible.

'Ozma Ozpin.'

'Beacon Gym'

His eyes widened, before falling into a half-lidded gaze.

"This has to be a joke." he mumbled aloud, shoving the card back in his pocket. A gym? Another gym wanted him? Jaune Arc, who went 0-3 and lost by knockout each time. There was no way someone from a gym actively went looking for him.

It had to be a scam or something.

Jaune let out a breath. They could've at least waited a month; the wounds were still fresh.

A loud shout of "JAUNE, GET OUT HERE ALREADY!" startled Jaune, causing him to jump slightly. He rubbed his hand on the towel one last time, before rushing out the door.

The sun was hanging low in the sky, almost disappearing over the horizon. The park Jaune walked through was bathed in an orange light as he trudged back towards his home. He stopped next to his favourite bench and sat down, leaning his head back and letting out a long breath

He sat there staring at the sky for a while, watching the clouds move slowly. He was tempted to fall asleep, the soft sway of the evening breeze on the tree leaves almost attempting to lull him. He forcefully leaned forward, shaking his head to snap out of the lull.

He had been through many rigorous training sessions, ones that had left him on the floor in a gasping heap, but he couldn't remember the last time he had felt this sluggish. Oh wait, yes he could, every other day he had worked at that darn bakery.

He sighed at the irony of it all. That being a professional athlete was somehow less of a strain on him. But, as he thought about it, he realised that it had never felt all that stressful. Even when he had lost.

He guessed that's what it felt like to do something you loved.

The realisation that he wasn't going to be able to do what he loved again hit Jaune in the stomach. A shaky breath escaped him. He wasn't going to get over that anytime soon.

The thoughts of boxing led his mind down a long road, and his thoughts shifted to the piece of cardboard still in his pocket.

''I have come with an offer; one you might find quite lucrative"

He reached into his pocket and leaned back, holding it up against the orange sky.

'Ozma Ozpin'

'Beacon Gym'

He curiously turned it over in his hand, examining the number on the back as his mind deliberated. Should he call? What if it really was a scam? A minute or so of thinking ended up boiling down to one question.

'What have I got to lose?'

The answer was not much. So Jaune fished his phone out of his pocket, typed the number into his phone… And took the plunge.

Ring

Ring

"Hi, yes, this is Jaune Arc…"

A wide-eyed Jaune stood out front of a large rectangular building. A white bag slung over one shoulder; he strained his neck taking in the entire scale of the place.

He had had to take a bus into downtown Vale to get here, which had taken an hour or two. He was again thankful for his early rising habit, as the time he was given was seven o'clock sharp.

But screw all that, he was more occupied with how massivethe building was. Maybe not in comparison to some of the other buildings that populated the downtown area, but compared to his old gym? It was like comparing a child's mini-car to a damn truck.

He had actually owned one of those little electric cars when he was a kid, funnily enough.

A few looks and whispers from people passing by around him snapped him out of his thoughts. With a small blush he walked up to the door, the big glass sliding open as he came into the sizable reception area.

The walls were made out of a tinted glass, so you could see yourself but not see through it. The floor was laminated a rich marble colour, off to the side were several chairs and tables. The upholstery of the chairs were blue in colour, and the tables had white around the edges and blue in the middle. There were various magazines on each table.

His eyes caught the sight of a lone woman sitting in one of the seats, she wore a red hoodie and jeans. Her hair was a deep red and tied up in a ponytail, and he watched as green eyes moved as she read something on her phone and frowned.

'Wow she's pretty'Jaune thought to himself in awe. She sat with her legs crossed, the arm she was holding her phone with's elbow resting on the upper leg. He watched her sigh, before setting her phone on the table and looking up.

They locked eyes for a split second before he tore his away. No. Bad Jaune. Don't stare at the pretty girl or she'll think you're a creep at best.

Doing his best to not look over, he robotically walked up to the blue reception desk. He took note of the white 'Beacon Gym.' on the bottom half, the same as outside.

Behind the desk was a woman sitting behind a computer, typing away with long nails and glasses on her nose. He took a deep breath, and spoke.

"He-"

Ring Ring

A landline next to the woman rang, and with one swift motion the woman picked it up and held it between her shoulder and her ear.

"Beacon Gym." She said in a nasally voice, "Oh Cathy how are you?" A voice on the other end replied, "Oh you know, same old boring Job. Sitting behind a screen typing away. I swear there's no end to the paperwork, I don't know what they'd do without me." A moment of silence, then the receptionist gasped, "No…."

Jaune held up a hand, "Uh, excuse me…" But was completely ignored, the receptionist deep into her conversation with 'Cathy'. Jaune's hand came down slow, his social anxiety kicking in hard.

He should interrupt them… Oh but what if the conversation was important? What if the woman got mad at him for interrupting and kicked him out? He couldn't take that risk.

He stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, the conversation in front of him seemed to not be stopping anytime soon, before his eyes wandered around the room again.

He looked over to the direction of the waiting area, and his eyes met the green orbs of the girl he had been staring at before. She seemed to have some sort of pity for him. He looked over at the receptionist one more time, again realising that was going nowhere. He fished his phone out of his pocket, cringing at the time.

He needed to be at Ozpin's office in five minutes.

He turned away from the pretty girl, mentally preparing himself.

'C'mon Jaune, you can do this. It's just a pretty girl! Remember what Dad said: Confidence. All you need is confidence. I'll just ask her if she's been here before and if she knows where Ozpin is.'Jaune took a breath, spinning back around with his best smile plastered on.

He walked over with what he thought was a confident swagger, maintaining eye contact.

"H-Hey," he stuttered, cursing himself but continuing, "You, uh, you come here often?"

The girl's eyes widened, and she leaned back in her seat ever so slightly. This seemed to make Jaune register what he had just said, and he held his hands up.

"Uh no no, I'm not trying to, uh, hit on you or anything, I just… uh." Damn it brain, think!

"I just wanted to know if you know where I can find Ozpin." At the mention of Ozpin, she looked at him curiously.

"Do you mean the owner, Ozpin?"

He was the owner!?" Uh, yeah I guess. I have a meeting with him in, like..." He looked at his phone again," ...Four minutes."

The girl shot a quick glance at the receptionist, still chatting away, before gracing him with a small smile.

'+5 Prettiness' Jaune thought reflexively.

"Well, usually you're meant to go through reception, but as a way of apologising for this," she gestured to the receptionist, "I can make sure you're not late to your meeting." And with that she stood up.

'Wow, she's pretty tall.' Was the first thing Jaune thought, he was 6'2 and she was only a little shorter than him. She gestured for him to follow and they walked past reception. Over to the right were two elevators and a door marked as stairs.

The girl leading him reached inside her hoodie and pulled out a card that was around her neck.

She tapped it to a black box next to the elevator and pressed the button marked with an up arrow. They waited there for a few seconds before the door slid open with a 'ding'.

She stepped inside and he followed, she then pressed the button for the highest floor. There was silence on the ride up, Jaune couldn't really think of anything to say. He scratched his nose. She held her hands behind her back. Both stared straight forward.

'I should say something.' Jaune thought, "Uh, so-"

A ding signaled them reaching the top floor, cutting Jaune off completely as the elevator door slid open. His guide gave him a small apologetic smile as they walked out into a corridor.

She pointed towards a door at the far end, "Mr Ozpin's office is right there."

He followed her with his eyes, "Oh, sweet. Thanks a lot!" a thought popped into his head, "Uh, I didn't introduce myself so," he held out his hand, "Name's Jaune Arc. Short, sweet and rolls off the tongue. Ladies love it. What's your name?"

There seemed to be… apprehension in her eyes at his question. 'She doesn't think I'm hitting on her again, does she?' Jaune worried.

There was a moment of silence, before she grabbed his hand in a light handshake. She gave him a nervous smile, "I'm… Pyrrha. Pyrrha Nikos." She stared at him, apprehension still firmly on her face.

He didn't know why; it was a nice name.

"Well, uh, Pyrrha, thanks again for helping me. I really appreciate it." He shook her hand and smiled at her, "Maybe I'll see you around, if this works out that is…" he mumbled the last part as he turned around.

"I'm sure it will." He heard from behind him, looking back to meet a bright smile. His face lit up, and Pyrrha waved as she stepped back into the newly arrived elevator.

He was left alone in the corridor to ponder that interaction, before he smiled.

A good start to the day.

Jaune breathed in, now for the hard part.

The walk towards the office was short, but it felt much longer than it actually was. He stood outside the door and looked to make sure he had the right room, when he was sure, he took a deep breath, and knocked.

Jaune was sure that if he actually counted the seconds he was standing there, it would've been about ten. But at that moment, it felt like ten thousand. His heart raced and his palms already started to sweat. He wiped his hand off on his pants, cursing.

Eventually, he heard a familiar voice say "Come in." From the other side, and opened the door.

The room was… not overly interesting really. A desk in the middle with a computer, filing cabinets in the corner, a carpet just in front of the door. There were only really two things of interest: a big oak grandfather clock to the left of the desk, and that the entire back wall was glass, making the bustling city below visible.

The white-haired man that he had talked to a day ago looked up as he entered, a pleasant smile coming to his face.

"Ah, Mr Arc, it's good to see you." He looked over to the clock, "A minute late, but semantics aside, please have a seat."

Jaune flinched at that, coming to the chair on his side of the desk and sitting down, "Yeah, sorry about that, sir. I was held up at the reception desk."

"Well it's nothing significant, so don't worry. Anyway," He pushed back on his chair, standing up and walking over to the glass wall and looking at the city below.

"I would like to offer you a position at this gym, Jaune." Jaune startled at that. Really? That quickly? He was expecting a sort of interview or something.

He expressed as such, "Really, sir? We haven't talked much at all."

Ozpin chuckled, "I already know enough about you, Mr Arc, and I think you'd be the perfect fit here at Beacon."

Something bubbled up in Jaune's chest, "But I haven't even won a match yet, sir. I don't know why you'd want me."

Ozpin turned around and looked him right in the eyes, "That may be true my boy, however that is in the past. The future is still yet to happen, your record will not matter-" He walked over to his desk, pulling a drawer open and taking a piece of paper out. He slapped the paper down in front of Jaune.

It looked like a contract.

"-When you start your new job as a coach."

What?

"What?"

Hello my dear readers, how goes it? It's your author Zakku coming at ya with a new fic, but not one that I did on my own. No no no, this is a collaborative effort with my editor and now co-author, Numb3rs96.

I approached him about this months ago, and we both finally got around to doing it. The hardest part I think was agreeing in what direction we were going to take this, but I think we've come up with something pretty special.

Be sure to check out Numb3rs96, give him support to start writing again!

Thanks for reading and look forward to another chapter, and the start of the first Arc.

See ya!

One of your authors, Zakku.