There came a point in time in everyone's lives when they were thrust out of the comfort of their bubbles and forcibly reminded that the world was vast and the people were unpleasant. Whether it was accidentally stumbling into a gang district or walking into a room full of lawyers, everyone would inevitably undergo such an experience in which they were reminded that true wickedness does exist.

For Jaune, this rude awakening occurred when he was walking back to his dorms after a particularly mind-numbing lecture from Professor Oobleck. He had been drifting through the halls with his eyes still half-closed when he was suddenly yanked into an empty classroom by an unknown individual.

Instinctively activating his aura due to Pyrrha having beaten the reflex into him, he was able to avoid getting his nose broken when it was introduced to a fist. He let out a grunt of pain, jumping away from his attacker to create some space and take in the situation.

Then he paled as he came face-to-face with four upper years. Seniors, from the looks of it.

"Solid reaction time," the one who attacked him smiled. He had curly green hair, and his grey eyes were glinting with malice.

"Good," the one standing next to him said. From his body language, he was likely the leader. "It means we'll be able to inflict more pain on him."

Ah. This was bad.

Jaune whirled to the door, but was stopped in his tracks by the two girls who suddenly blocked the exit. When had they gotten there?

"Sorry, kid," one of them said, looking anything but. Long black hair and brown eyes. "Can't have you running off."

"If you don't resist, we'll make it quick," the other said.

"Why are you doing this?" Jaune asked warily, trying to keep them all in his view. It was rather difficult to do, considering how they had surrounded him on all sides. "This seems rather unnecessary."

The attack came from his blind spot when he was turning his head. A kick to his side. He staggered slightly, whipping his head to look at the leader.

"Freshman like you should learn to respect their upperclassmen," he growled.

Jaune stared at him for a second. "Wow. And here I thought I was dramatic."

The leader narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?"

"That line came straight out of a trashy B-list movie. I mean, 'respect their upperclassmen?' Seriously?" Jaune soundedly unimpressed. "But actually though – why are you doing this?"

"You insulted us a few days ago."

Jaune blinked. "I literally have no idea who you are."

"You don't?" the green-haired man spoke up, tilting his head. "You don't know Cardin?"

Jaune paused. "Unless Cardin took up a hobby of crossdressing and he's one of the girls standing behind me, I'm not sure how this is related to him."

"Then let me simplify it for you," the leader said. "We have an unspoken rule in this school. If you insult one of us, then you're insulting us all. Beating Cardin publicly like that isn't something we could ignore."

Jaune frowned. "I don't understand. What is this 'we' you're talking about? Was Cardin part of a club or something-?" He abruptly cut off as his eyes widened, a memory hitting him. He knew these people. They were among the ones laughing whenever Cardin harassed the faunus.

Oh. So this was what it was.

Jaune had always known intellectually that part of the reason why a lot of people didn't intervene whenever racism occured was because they were afraid of other racists – older and more powerful – getting revenge. There was a reason why not a single freshman had intervened with Cardin, even though there were numerous freshmen stronger than Cardin. It wasn't Cardin they feared; it was the upperclassmen bullies.

At least, not a single freshman had intervened with Cardin until him. Jaune had stepped in and actually stood up to Cardin, and it appeared these four took offense to that. The upperclassmen had to make an example out of him as a warning for others, which explained his current situation.

Retaliation. A tale as old as time. Jaune humiliated Cardin with the battle, and so these four would be the one retaliating against him. Camaraderie amongst bullies, and all that.

"I get it now," Jaune breathed slowly. "So Cardin was just the mook. You four are the final bosses, huh?"

"Kid, that's pretty cringe."

"What's cringe is how you need to have four seniors to take on a single freshman," Jaune returned before smirking. "It does make sense though," he chuckled darkly. "You must've heard about the incredible battles I've fought in my crusade against the Organization. I don't blame you for being scared."

The four stared at him.

"Is this kid for real?" the green-haired man asked.

The leader scrutinized him. "I believe he is..." he said slowly. "Well. Freshman things, I guess. You'll regret having a smart mouth soon enough."

Jaune's eyes widened as the leader stepped forward, rolling up his sleeves. Thankfully they didn't have their weapons, but fists hurt nonetheless. He knew from experience. His mind raced as he tried to think of a way out of this situation. There was no way for him to fight his way out of this. The two behind him were blocking the only exit out of the room. There were no windows or convenient vents in the ceiling. Jaune was trapped.

Unless...

"FUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Jaune burst into maniacal laughter, throwing his head back and his arms out, giving it his all. "Oh, you poor fools. You've walked straight into my trap."

Please take the bait, he begged. Please.

Thankfully, they did.

The leader stopped, narrowing his eyes. "What?"

Jaune smiled. "Did you honestly think I hadn't expected this would happen? If you lay a single finger on me, you'll get expelled immediately. The headmaster will have you out of Beacon faster than you can blink."

"Ozpin?" the leader sneered. "He can try. My father – "

" – can do absolutely nothing in the event the headmaster actually decides to expel you," Jaune finished. "Even if your father is the mayor of Vale himself. Beacon is completely independent from politics and is immune from external influences. The headmaster's word is law."

"You really think he'll do something, though?" the green-haired man cut in, looking amused. "We've been doing this for years, and we haven't been punished a single time. The old shitter has no idea what goes on inside his school."

"You FOOL!" Jaune bellowed. "The headmaster is a genius, a man of unparalleled intellect. Do you truly believe he doesn't know? Believe me, he's well aware. It's clear that the only reason why he hasn't acted until now is because he wishes to give you second chances, but mark my words, if you attack me, then your lives will be irrevocably ruined."

He smiled darkly. "So do it," he said, spreading his arms out wide. "Attack me. I dare you."

There was a moment of silence.

"Sure," the leader agreed. Then he stepped forward and punched Jaune in the stomach. Jaune folded over, allowing the leader to wrap his hands around the back of Jaune's head and knee him in the face, once, twice, three times.

If it weren't for his aura, Jaune's nose would've been obliterated. As it was, he didn't even get a nosebleed. It still hurt like hell, though, and he winced in pain, trying to fight back.

It was in vain, however. The others quickly grabbed a hold of his arms, restraining him and preventing him from being able to move. Jaune thrashed around wildly, but it was futile. They were stronger and bigger than him, not to mention outnumbering him three to one.

"Now then," the leader cracked his knuckles. "Time to make an example out of you."

His fist neared Jaune's face rapidly. Jaune was already bracing for the pain – when the door to the classroom slammed open and Pyrrha walked in. Relief flooded over him. Pyrrha instantly analyzed the scene, her green eyes narrowing in anger at what she saw. Three people restraining Jaune, the fourth in the middle of punching him, his fist still hovering uncertainly in the air.

Jaune smirked at the bullies's suddenly worried expressions. "All according to plan."

His plan had never been to bluff his way out. The bullies would've never bought it for long. He could, however, stall for long enough for Pyrrha to wonder why he wasn't back at their dorm yet and track him down via his scroll. It was a desperate tactic, but it worked out. Now he and Pyrrha could escape –

"Four seniors ganging up on a freshman," Pyrrha murmured quietly, her voice brimming with anger.

"Pyrrha Nikos," the leader said, turning to her. He had recovered quickly, and his confidence was back. "The Invincible Girl."

"Please, release him."

"And if I don't?" he challenged.

"Then I'll send you four to the infirmary," Pyrrha said simply.

Jaune tensed up. "Wait, Pyrrha," he cautioned quietly. "We should run." Pyrrha was strong, but even she couldn't possibly win a four-on-one fight – Jaune hadn't trained much in empty handed combat, so he would be quickly taken out of the fight.

Pyrrha ignored him, however, and continued staring at the four, her expression hardened.

The leader laughed. "You? Send us to the infirmary? Don't make me laugh. You may be a hotshot fighter in tournaments, but that's all you are. We're seniors. We're nothing like the trash you've fought so far. We're stronger than you, kid – not to mention how you don't even have your weapons."

"An interesting theory," Pyrrha murmured. "Would you like to test it out?"

The leader smiled cruelly. "Gladly – "

Pyrrha blurred. An instant later the leader was doubled over, gasping in pain. The other three reacted immediately, but not fast enough. Pyrrha seemed to attack them all simultaneously, forcing them back with nothing but her bare hands.

Jaune's eyes widened. What the hell?

That sentiment was reflected by the leader as well. "What the hell?" he gasped before growling in rage. "Get her! She can't fight all of us at once!"

Privately, Jaune agreed with his assessment – and then they were both proven wrong. Dead wrong. Pyrrha absolutely could fight all four of them at once, and fight them she did.

Jaune honestly didn't understand how. It wasn't that she was magically dodging all of their strikes or something. She was faster than them, yes, but not nearly fast enough to be able to evade every attack from the four assailants. She took plenty of nasty blows, and her aura was being slowly whittled down.

Despite that, however, she was winning because of one simple yet inexplicable fact.

Her attacks were somehow hitting harder than theirs.

While the bullies' blows on her had no apparent effect other than reducing her aura, her attacks on them were downright devastating.

Every punch and palm strike seemed to land with the force of a sledgehammer, and every knee and elbow that connected struck like a bomb. It made no sense. Theoretically, Pyrrha should be weaker than the four, as they were older and more physically developed than her. Even if she was more skilled, they should have still trumped her in raw power, but that clearly wasn't the case.

It made no sense –

Jaune paused as he observed something. As Pyrrha turned to the side to dodge a punch before swiveling back to deliver a palm strike to the green-haired man's solar plexus, her entire arm seemed to shimmer slightly. It was barely visible, and in the heat of the battle Jaune doubted the bullies noticed, but it was undoubtedly there. Straining his eyes, Jaune saw how the moment her palm connected, a ripple seemed to transverse through the surface of her entire arm in a split second, from her shoulder to her forearms to her palm, before propagating into the man and sending him flying back.

Jaune's eyes widened in shock as realization slammed into him like a Bullhead.

Aura.

He stopped paying attention to the fight as his mind began scrambling to work through theories and hypotheses. Jaune had always assumed that aura was a purely defensive measure, functioning as essentially a force field, but now that he thought about it, that wasn't true, was it?

After all, aura could be channeled into objects. All of a huntsman's tools and equipment were conduits for aura – it was why clothing never ripped and weapons never broke. This implied that aura could be manipulated beyond just being a force field protecting the body; it could be wielded outside of the body as well.

Nora had once told a tale of Ren defeating a King Taijitu with his bare hands during initiation. Jaune had initially dismissed it as yet another one of Nora's exaggerated stories, but... what if it wasn't?

If aura could be channeled into weapons, then it stood to reason it could be channeled into an enemy as well. Essentially, using aura as an offensive tool.

Which meant...

Right now, Pyrrha was manipulating her aura to exponentially increase the power behind her blows. The rippling he had seen earlier must've been her aura surging through her arm and into the man, only instead of reinforcing the man like it might have a weapon or clothing, it instead acted as a repulsive force – or perhaps a force multiplier? – and took a much larger chunk out of the man's aura than a normal punch would've.

Jaune looked at Pyrrha in a new light as she fought. The sheer amount of control over her aura Pyrrha must've possessed was downright frightening. It was one thing to expand one's aura outward to cover one's clothing and weapons as a force field. That part was easy – Jaune himself had already pretty much mastered it. It was a whole different matter, however, to create a focused, concentrated pulse of aura. Jaune didn't even know how to begin accomplishing such a feat.

Soon, it was over. The four lay groaning on the ground, their auras flickering, while Pyrrha stood over them, dusting her hands off. She took several moments to catch her breath before turning to look at him. "Hey Jaune," she greeted. "Sorry I didn't get here earlier. I didn't realize you – "

"You're amazing, you know that?" Jaune breathed in awe.

Pyrrha coughed, cheeks flushing slightly at the sudden compliment. "I'm sorry?"

"I said that you're amazing," Jaune repeated as he walked up to her. "Thanks for saving me."

Pyrrha smiled. "It was no problem." Then she paused, looking down at the four. "Why did they...?"

"Cardin," Jaune said. "Apparently, bullies look out for each other. They didn't like how I stood up to Cardin, so they retaliated."

"Four on one?"

"Yup."

Pyrrha frowned. "Cowardice."

"They're bullies for a reason."

Pyrrha chuckled. "Valid. Should we report them to the professors?"

Jaune considered it. "Nah. I think that they learned their lesson with this embarrassing display." He kicked the leader in the kidneys a little harder than what was perhaps necessary, causing the guy to groan slightly. "Oops," he said with no remorse.

"You sure?" Pyrrha asked. Jaune nodded. "Alright then."

The civilian part of Jaune was ruminating about how odd their nonchalant behavior was when this was a literal assault case, but this was a combat school where they trained to fight literal monsters, so he supposed a paradigm shift wasn't too unexplainable.

The huntsman part of Jaune, on the other hand, was busy methodically kicking the downed bullies in various painful areas to exact some well-deserved vengeance.

Perhaps there was another reason why he didn't want to report them after all...

「」

"An ancient Mistralian technique?"

Pyrrha nodded. "It involves wielding your aura as a weapon, so to speak. There are multiple different forms of the technique found across Remnant. In Mistral, we use an internal style, in which instead of utilizing blunt force to overwhelm the enemy, we instead shape and direct our aura to act as a wave which essentially flows through a target."

Jaune furrowed his brow as he thought over her words. Immediately after the fight, he had asked Pyrrha on the intricacies of the aura technique she had used, the scientist within him demanding he understand and be able to replicate it.

"I presume aura counters aura?"

Pyrrha nodded. "If I use this technique on a person, then their aura would block my own, so instead of acting as a penetrating attack, it would just greatly amplify the power of my strike instead. If I used it on a Grimm, however... well, I've once made a Boarbatusk explode before."

"Fascinating," Jaune breathed. "Does Ren also know this style?"

Pyrrha nodded. "We exchange tips every so often."

Jaune paused. "Does every Mistralian huntsman know this style?" he asked with some wariness.

Pyrrha shook her head. "No. Most either don't have the patience or the capability to learn it. Ren is a prodigy in this technique, actually – his fine control is several magnitudes greater than mine. I believe it's part of why he was accepted into Beacon; once he learns how to apply the technique to his weapons... he would be a terrifying foe on the battlefield."

"I see," Jaune mused. "And I assume you also know this technique because..."

Pyrrha coughed. "I, uhh, took extracurriculars?"

Jaune laughed. "Of course, of course." It went without saying that Pyrrha knew this technique because she was a prodigy as well – though perhaps not as skilled as Ren – but he knew how uncomfortable it made Pyrrha if he said it, even if it was true. "Can you teach it to me?"

Pyrrha hummed. "Perhaps later."

Jaune grinned. "Excellent. I'm looking forward to it."

Aura manipulation, huh?

A smile tugged at his lips. This would be interesting.

「」

In every person, there resided a darkness within them. An evil that would forever be probing for weaknesses in a person's armor, biding its time until it could claw its way out. And it just so happened that there was nothing better at drawing out the inner darkness of one Lie Ren than playing some video games.

An onlooker wouldn't think it at first, of course. Ren was the picture of calm whenever he played. His expression never changed no matter what happened, and he never swore or raised his voice.

If that onlooker was in the game, however...

"Well that's unfortunate," Ren commented, his serene expression heavily contrasting with how his fingers blurred over the keyboard as he typed out a scathing insult written in perfect prose directed toward one of their teammates.

Jaune coughed from next to him where he was also playing "Dude, you're gonna get banned."

Ren actually looked amused at this. "Don't worry. As long as I don't use any slurs, the mods don't care. MOBAs are like that; you can type essentially whatever you want as long as you avoid slurs. Whereas if I ever jump into an FPS lobby... well, I have literally had people ask me what my ethnicity was before just so they could use the correct slurs."

Jaune blinked before laughing. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Ren nodded before turning back to the monitor. They were in the library right now, having repurposed two of the study computer terminals into video game stations. The specs of the computers were cutting-edge, so it worked out fairly nicely.

Jaune had been surprised that Ren played video games. He had been even more surprised when Ren was good at them – as in, good enough to go pro if he wanted to. Jaune himself didn't play much, much preferring singleplayer games than pvp, but Ren seemed to thrive in murdering six year olds on online servers.

"Ah," Ren said calmly as one of their teammates committed another blunder and instead of accepting responsibility, they instead started flaming him and Jaune. "Some people in this game are truly unpleasant." His fingers blurred once more.

"Yeah," Jaune said, his eyes locked on the new message Ren sent that vehemently insulted all eighteen generations of their teammate's ancestors. "Unpleasant. Wow. Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Ren chuckled.

「」

"Huh," Jaune blinked. He was sitting on his bed, watching something on his scroll. "That's odd."

"What is?" Pyrrha asked, walking over to sit next to him, looking at his scroll as well. It was open to a news website that announced BREAKING: EXPLOSION AT DOCKS. "A White Fang attack?"

Jaune shrugged. "No idea, they didn't say. Hopefully nobody was hurt."

"What are the odds we get to miss school tomorrow?" Nora asked.

Jaune smiled. "Minimal. This shouldn't really affect us."

"Aww," Nora pouted. "Pity.

「」

There existed a curious concept in the calculus branch of mathematics known as "limits." The term essentially referred to how if you followed a specific line infinitely along a graph, it would eventually converge to a specific value and level out in a horizontal asymptote. In other words, there was a limit to how high or how low the line could reach.

This phenomenon could be applied to countless situations in real life as well. Just like how there was a limit to how cold a material could become – absolute zero – or a limit to how fast an object could free fall – terminal velocity, there was also a limit to how badly you could piss off Professor Glynda Goodwitch. To think about even approaching that limit was tantamount to declaring the absolute absence of self-preservation in your body. It just wasn't done. Even Jaune, in all his delusional and deranged glory, still wasn't stupid enough to do anything that would unduly anger the combat professor.

Which was why he was so damn surprised when not one, not two, but four people finally managed to not only approach that limit, but sprint past it entirely with suicidal abandon.

"How on Remnant did you four manage to piss off Professor Goodwitch that badly?" Jaune asked the members of Team RWBY incredulously. His breakfast lay forgotten on the table as he stared at them with wide eyes. "What did you even do?!"

Ruby coughed. "Well... it's a long story. You know how there were multiple large explosions down at the docks last night?"

"Yeah, I saw it on the news..." Jaune slowly trailed to a stop as he felt his stomach drop. "Ruby..." he began with dawning horror. "Please tell me that wasn't because of you four."

"It wasn't because of us four," Yang promptly answered.

Jaune ignored her, instead staring intently at Ruby. She shifted uncomfortably underneath his piercing gaze. He held it for several seconds, not relenting in the slightest. "Well?"

"Itwasbecauseofus," Ruby blurted out in a rush then clapped her hands over her mouth as if she couldn't believe she just told him. Yang sighed heavily and Blake buried her nose further into her book. "But it wasn't our fault!" she hastily added.

Jaune raised an eyebrow.

"It wasn't, I swear! Roman Torchwick and the White Fang were committing acts of terrorism, stealing Dust and stuff. We had to stop them!"

"What would you have done in our situation?" Yang jumped in as well, seeing the opportunity to flip it back onto him.

"I would've called the professors," Jaune replied, not missing a beat. "I mean, Ruby, you already told me about how Professor Goodwitch nearly brought down Torchwick that one time before you entered Beacon, right? She would've undoubtedly been able to defeat everyone at the docks."

"Well, yes, but..." Ruby hesitated. "I didn't think... We just wanted to help! What's so wrong with that?"

"What's so wrong with that?" Jaune repeated, his voice soft. Instantly, Team RWBY knew they had messed up. "Do you really want to know? Very well, allow me to enlighten you. See, instead of Professor Goodwitch hunting down Torchwick and the White Fang at the docks, she instead hunted down me for not telling her about you four!"

He slammed his hands down on the table, rattling the plates and glasses. "For some reason, she thought I was in on it!" he shivered. "Do you realize how scary it was to be sleeping peacefully and then being awoken by the door being blasted open at four am and Professor Goodwitch storming in with bloodshot eyes and a glare icy enough to freeze Vacuo thrice over?!"

Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren all nodded in agreement, identical traumatized looks on their faces.

"I was in the middle of a beautiful dream," Nora whispered. "Only for it to be interrupted by the devil herself."

"It was terrifying," Ren agreed, his eyes slightly glazed over from the memory.

"I just don't understand," Pyrrha said, shaking her head. "I get that she thinks Jaune is unhinged and all – understandable, really – but why did she jump to the conclusion that he was involved?"

Ruby, Yang, Blake, and Weiss suddenly all became extremely interested in the table.

"Guys..." Jaune said slowly.

"Ahahaha," Yang laughed nervously. "Well, umm... Ruby may or may not have said something about how it was her duty as Lab Member 006 to thwart the nefarious plans of evildoers."

"Yang!" Ruby cried. "You traitor!"

"You can't silence the truth!"

"Ruby..." they were interrupted by Jaune, who was staring mechanically at Ruby. The rest of Team JNPR also slowly swiveled over their gaze to stare soulessly at Ruby.

Ruby gave them a small timid smile. "My bad?" she ventured.

"I hate you," Jaune grumbled. "In all seriousness, though, are you four okay?"

Weiss nodded. "Fortunately, yes, though we had some... close calls." She glanced at Blake, who steadfastly refused to meet her eyes. "Though I guess you need some context. It all began when..."

「」

The weeks passed by quickly. Thankfully, the White Fang didn't make any outward moves and none of the bullies tried anything again. Cardin had stopped harassing the faunus, and completely ignored Jaune's presence nowadays. Jaune had gotten used to the peace and quiet, so it was rather worrying to hear Cardin call out to him.

"Hey Jaune!"

Jaune tensed up as Cardin jogged up to him in the halls. "What do you want?" he said, on guard.

Cardin raised his hands. "Chill. I just had a quick question. Which school did you go to again before Beacon?"

"Why do you want to know?" Jaune asked warily.

Cardin shrugged. "Curiosity."

Jaune narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Yeah?"

Cardin met his gaze for a few seconds before sighing. "Fine, you caught me. I just wanted to go review bomb their website a little."

Jaune blinked. "Why?"

Cardin stared at him. "Dude. You were pathetic at the start of the year. It should be criminal how badly they trained you."

"Oh," Jaune hesitated. "Well, they don't exactly have a website for you to bomb. I went to – " which school had he used to forge his transcripts again? – "the Vacuo Academy for Gifted Youths. Their tech department wasn't exactly state-of-the-art."

"Gotcha. How long did you attend that, by the way?"

"Three years," Jaune answered. Then he immediately grew wary when Cardin smiled, like a lion would upon a gazelle who had walked straight into its den.

"Three years, huh?" Cardin repeated, his friendly air gone and a malicious one replacing it. "That's funny. Because my dad is a huntsman, right? And just the other day when I was calling him, he mentioned that a certain Nicholas Arc was worried about his dear little son who ran away from home."

It felt as if he was just drenched in ice water. Jaune paled, his heart stopping.

He knew.

"Turns out, his son had never been trained before. He had gone to an ordinary school for civilians," Cardin continued, his smile growing wider at Jaune's suddenly panicked expression. "Three guesses as to what his son's name is."

There was a moment of silence.

"... what do you want?" Jaune whispered, despair colouring his tone. This was it. Cardin knew his secret. If he wanted to, Cardin could get Jaune expelled right now, and there was nothing he could do about it

Bloody hell.

"It's easy," Cardin smiled smugly, stepping forward and towering over him. "Starting from now, if you don't want your little secret to get out, then I suggest you do everything that I say. Got it?"

Jaune hesitated. Then, gritting his teeth, he bowed his head.

"Fine."

There I was, rewatching some episodes of RWBY, when I saw Ren blow apart a snake's head with his bare hands in initiation. Gonna say that that's due to aura lol

As per usual, Team JNPR avoids the shenanigans that Team RWBY gets into. Mostly.

Next chapter I'll finally get to write the scene I've been waiting to write since the beginning of this fic. Pretty excited for that lmao

Thanks for reading!