Author's Note: Overwhelming support from all of you. Thank you so much. I won't lie: this story has potential. So much of it. I hope I'll be able to live up to it. Kyuketsuki-fenikkusu pointed out that people are never truly black or white, but shades of grey. This is really important. Writing a fanfic allows me to focus on certain characters in ways the canon series can't. And I hope I'll be able to show you different sides of them. This particular chapter will start to show some of the struggles Jaune must face.

Oh, we now have cover art, by the way, by yours truly.

Without further ado, let's get on with it!

Chapter 5: Infamous

Jaune waited patiently as the elevator ascended. He took a deep breath, maintaining his calm. This was a meeting he wanted, and it might as well happen now. Within moments, he arrived at his destination, and the metal doors slid open, revealing the office reserved for Beacon's headmaster.

The young Shinken walked forward, taking a quick glance around. Surprisingly, he couldn't spot any hidden defence mechanisms such as turrets or electrified net-launchers. The room was, surprisingly enough, just an office, albeit an elegant one in its own way. A large mahogany desk occupied the main position, and behind it was a leather revolving chair. Documents were neatly arranged on the desk, and a scroll was placed on it as well. There was other furniture, such as cabinets, but no trophy cases or anything of the sort. The glass windows that comprised the walls gave a view of the entire campus, and even the world beyond.

However, none of this was the main focus of Jaune's attention. He transferred his eyes back on to the man standing behind the desk, waiting for him. He was a decent height, and despite being slender, had good posture. The cane he carried was not a walking aid, or something to lean on. It was evident that he was perfectly fit, but the way he held the staff suggested it was an extension of himself.

Likely has good form in combat, and exudes grace and balance. Confident too, but not arrogant. I'll have to watch out for him.

Brown eyes met Jaune's own blue ones, and it occurred to him that the glasses were not to compensate for faulty vision. However, they were not purely ornamental either.

Interesting. What sights do they reveal, I wonder?

And finally, the white hair.

Ozpin looked young. But he felt old.

As the young fighter studied him, the headmaster too was carefully observing and analysing Jaune.

The blond warrior was tall and wide shouldered, skeletal size larger than average, suggesting natural affinity to physical activity. But he did not move like a born fighter. Those individuals possessed a sort of almost childlike grace to their motions, a result of being able to naturally manipulate their bodies, and the confidence that came from knowing that fighting was as easy as breathing to them.

Jaune, on the other hand, moved light on his feet, and loose, but there was a weathered wariness to him that suggested that this grace was the result of long, intense training. He was not a born fighter. He had made himself one.

His exposed arms rippled with lean muscle without being overblown, and his core and legs were similarly built. The amount of muscle was ideal for maximizing strength without compromising speed and stamina.

The combination of that, and his movements, instantly confirmed to Ozpin what he had already seen in the footage from the Initiation.

Fighting was ingrained in Jaune's very being, and his ability as a hand-to-hand combatant was obvious.

Strong, fast, solid fundamentals, and adaptable. In an enclosed space, he would destroy my vessel before I could do anything, thought Ozpin.

And finally, his eyes.

These were not the eyes of a young, hopeful Huntsman who had ventured out to save lives. These eyes were carrying burdens, hiding behind them the weight of untold tragedies and suffering.

He's seen death, up-close. Many times.

This was a hardened warrior, more akin to Qrow or Raven than any of the people on his team.

It made sense, of course, given who he was. Who he had learned from.

But he was still young. He could still change.

Jaune came to a stop exactly ten feet away from Ozpin.

This was the optimal distance.

Any further, and Jaune's instincts told him Ozpin would be able to attack without risking damage. He did not believe he carried a gun, but he sensed an energy he had encountered before a few times… magic.

Any closer, and Ozpin would not be able to react in time to escape. He sensed the young boy's Aura, which far surpassed his own.

Thus, at exactly ten feet, neutral ground was established.

Jaune felt a smirk coming on to his face, one that was mirrored by Ozpin.

"Are you going to throw the desk at me?"

"It wouldn't hurt you even if it connected."

The two laughed lightly, momentarily, before both their expressions turned serious.

Ozpin picked up a mug from the desk in front of him, and drank from the coffee in it.

Adjusting his glasses slightly, he spoke softly.

"It has been many years since I have met one of you. Welcome to Beacon, bearer of the Souken."

Jaune's eyes widened for a second in surprise.

He looked at Ozpin warily.

"You know of the Divine Fist of the North Star?" he asked. This was the first time he had come across someone who knew of it.

Ozpin nodded.

"I would be hard-pressed not to. Over the ages, it has been instrumental to shaping Remnant", he said. In a softer voice, he added, "And of course, I have met the 64th successor. The Saviour at the Century's End."

Jaune started, unable to suppress his reaction. His fingers curled and uncurled.

"You knew my Master?"

Ozpin laughed. It was a sound tinged with… sorrow? It was hard to tell, but Jaune could have sworn that is what it felt like.

"To say I 'knew' him would be incorrect. Kenshiro was not an… easy man to know. He was guarded, and private. But… I knew of him, certainly. And I had met him. Twice."

Jaune's head reeled with the implications, but he managed to control his thoughts. Ozpin did not seem to be lying. And if what he was saying was true, then the possibilities ranged wide. He wanted to ask. There was so much he wanted to know. How did they meet? What happened in those meetings? But… to ask those questions would be to give Ozpin the upper hand. Show him that he held at least some leverage over him.

Kenshiro had not revealed everything about his past to Jaune. But the warrior knew one thing for certain. Whatever he would need to survive, his master had revealed. In other words, if he had omitted any mention of Ozpin… it was because he had not considered the apparent wizard a threat Jaune was incapable of dealing with.

Standing firm, Jaune decided to level the playing field.

"Master met many people during his travels. It appears you are one of them."

He left it at that. By not adding a question or qualifying statement, he was letting the older man know that in this matter at least, he didn't have any information that he could use to strongarm Jaune.

Ozpin's eyes narrowed for a moment.

Jaune continued.

"Master was never interested greatly by Hunters. We met all sorts of them. Eventually, I started to wonder: what sort of place must train them? It got to the point where I was curious enough that I decided to see for myself."

Ozpin nodded slightly.

"And so, you forged transcripts to come here. Why go to all the effort? You could have taken a qualifying test, you know."

"One that would have given away who I am, by the looks of it."

"Why so eager to conceal your identity, Jaune Arc?"

The emphasis on the title made it obvious that he was mentioning it to gauge Jaune's reaction. It was a good move, one that would have worked on most anyone.

But as Jaune saw it, he had forsaken that name as soon as he had become Kenshiro's disciple, meaning it didn't hold any power over him any more. He certainly wasn't bothered by anyone knowing what he used to be.

"Jaune Souther," the Shinken corrected. "I'm no Arc. Not anymore."

Ozpin once more narrowed his eye.

"Forsaking the Arc legacy?" he asked.

"I carry the legacy of Hokuto Shinken."

Ozpin examined the young man carefully. Expression unreadable, he continued.

"And the carrier of that legacy cannot be an Arc?"

The question was simple enough, on the surface. It sounded as though he was asking why Jaune had to give up being an Arc, give up on his family, in order to practice Hokuto Shinken. It was disguised this way deliberately, to appeal to emotions.

However, the true meaning was hidden beneath.

The Arcs were Hunters, for many generations. It was widely known that to be an Arc, in most cases, meant to be a Hunter.

Ozpin was asking why the Shinken could not be a Huntsman.

A Huntsman.

In other words, yet another one of Ozpin's students. One of his warriors. One of his pieces.

Jaune saw through it right away.

"Do you know the purpose of the Shinken?" he asked, changing the topic.

Taken aback slightly, Ozpin searched his memories. He first became aware of the art's existence when he met one of the earlier successors, a thousand years ago. It was already a well established art then, deadly, powerful, and equipped for the battlefield. Indeed, its potency was such that Ozpin had approached the master, only to be refused.

Since then, he had continued to observe, but his interest had gradually waned. Firstly because the style was next to impossible to learn simply by watching. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, because through the generations, none of the successors had been interested in the war between humanity and the Grimm.

The war between Ozpin and Salem.

However, he had come to know of the style one thousand years ago. It probably came into existence even earlier.

"I do not," he answered honestly.

Jaune nodded. This was as expected.

"Originally, Hokuto Shinken was created as an assassination art. Given the amount of intrigue in royal courts, there was a need for a powerful method to ensure that enemies of the state could be swiftly dealt with, while the ruler was protected. However, during its creation, and its subsequent growth, it became evident that the power of the art far surpassed initial requirements. Wielders of the Shinken could act with impunity, and kill as they pleased."

Ozpin listened cautiously. He was not aware which kingdom Jaune was talking about. Was this from a time before the four that currently existed? Regardless, his words were ominous, and indeed, they reflected his own worries about the practitioners of the style.

"You can see, I believe, how this alarmed those in power. Not only them, but all feared the Shinken, feared that one day, an emperor would rise from among them, and rule all with an iron fist. To allay those fears, the ruling Hokuto bloodline swore an oath."

If Ozpin looked at the sky at that moment, he would have seen seven stars burning bright even in the daylight.

"To never seek to rule by force. To never allow their power to be used by others to gain supremacy. To always uphold the balance, and protect the innocent."

A fierce fire momentarily flashed in Jaune's eyes.

"Where evil lurks, I must destroy. Whether it be Grimm, or bandit… or Hunter. That is why… I can never join their number."

Jaune had laid his purpose bare, preferring an open display of the truth, or at least part of it, to beating around the bush.

In response, a fire burned in Ozpin's eyes as well.

"A threat to the order of Hunters… and a force that refuses to be controlled…" he muttered.

The fire passed, however, and he sighed.

"You are the same as the previous successors I have met," he said, with just a hint of wistfulness. He looked at Jaune.

"They have always acted on their own, relying on their own sense of justice. And… as reluctant as I am to admit it, they have saved many thousands of lives. Why now? Your line has always existed in the shadows, living in the wilds. Why come forward and reveal your existence now? Why come to Beacon?"

The headmaster too was laying cards on the table. Instead of searching for weaknesses, he chose to simply ask what his reason for coming here was. Sometimes, the direct method worked best.

"I need information," said Jaune slowly. "Knowledge. Every day, tens, hundreds of Hunters are sent into the wilds. While not all of them are pure of heart, there are many among them who fight honestly to protect the weak. Day after day, they're sent to die, in a war that doesn't end. It's been going on for thousands of years now. Why has no one seen the foolishness of this? Kill one Grimm, and another takes its place. How? Where do they come from? What is their true nature? These are questions that need to be asked. Thousands of lives can be saved if we know the answers."

He carefully observed Ozpin's reaction. As expected, there was a flash in his eyes, before he quickly suppressed it. He knew. At least some of what Jaune wanted to know, he could reveal. He had magic. More of it than the few Jaune had encountered before. Considerably more. It made perfect sense that he would know. Even before coming here, Jaune had ascertained that Ozpin was high up in the council of Hunters. Meaning, he held political influence as well. He was one of those ordering Hunters out into the wild, to die.

He knew. He knew the truth. And Jaune would find out what it was. Now that he had seen that flash of apprehension, he knew that Ozpin had the information. He had a mark. He would not lose him.

The wizard's expression was more neutral now. Guarded. He was aware that Jaune had caught onto him. But he could use that to his advantage, if he played his cards right.

"Let us imagine for a moment that I did indeed have the information you seek. I have no reason to give it to someone who has admitted to being a vigilante. Someone who has travelled with a confirmed murderer."

"Don't insult my master!" snarled Jaune.

His Aura flared threateningly, causing Ozpin's hair to flutter wildly.

"Calm, Mr Souther. Kenshiro had the rare ability to remain cold as ice no matter the predicament he was in. You would do well to emulate that trait."

Jaune breathed deeply, internally cursing himself for losing control even briefly.

"What do you want?" he asked. Ozpin clearly had a price.

"For starters, a promise that you will not, at the least, kill a student or faculty member of this school, or harm them."

"How about the insects that torture others?"

"You are referring to Mr Winchester and his friends. While I agree that their actions are inexcusable, they are not yet irredeemable. I believe they may yet change. Be of service to society."

There was an earnestness to Ozpin's face and voice that had been missing before. For the first time since the conversation began, he was not trying to probe or push the advantage, trying to manipulate. This was him being honest.

So he puts it on the line when his students are at stake. But if he cares so much for them…

"Why do you still send them to die then?"

"Because there is no other way," Ozpin said, looking down, in a resigned voice.

Jaune took a step forward.

"I don't understa-"

"Mr Souther. I will allow you to conduct your research here. I will even share my knowledge with you, but you must realize. By your own terms, you are not one of us. Therefore, if I am to help you, I must have something in return. I will not ask you to abandon your code. Instead, I implore you: perform your duty as Shinken."

Ozpin stood firm, and spoke for the first time in a manner that seemed to Jaune befitting a teacher.

"Protect my students.. Protect this school, Godfist. Protect the hearts that came here. Even the darkest of them have hope. Let them have the chance to be the people they can be."

This time, Jaune was forced back.

Involuntarily, he remembered things he had tried hard to keep buried deep in his mind.

For all its power, Hokuto Shinken was not perfect.

The nightmares he had seen haunted him still.

"Please… save us…"

Bitten by Grimm. Arms and legs clawed off, organs missing. People bleeding to death, crying. Begging Kenshiro to save them. Desperately begging, though they knew they were dying. Others, accepting their end, and asking them to pass on their last words to families or friends.

Afflicted by cancer. Poisoned by radiation. Eroding from within. The Shinken could not save them. They had cried and begged, and Jaune's fingers had near dug into his own arm from the force with which he had gripped it as he struggled to keep his composure.

Hunters, noble ones, who had put their lives on the line, dying, betrayed by their own. Gunshot wounds, stab and slash wounds. Vital arteries cut, decapitated. Kenshiro could not save them, and neither could Jaune.

"I would have done it anyway," he muttered, clenching his fists. Looking up, he faced Ozpin.

"Well, Mr Souther?"

"I will protect this school. You have my word. As long as I am given the knowledge I seek, no one from Beacon, student, teacher or staff, will die."

"Then you have my word as well. I will give you the answers you seek. But not all at once. I hope you understand the reason behind that."

Jaune nodded. It was to be expected.

"I still want something now."

Ozpin smiled slightly.

"One question then."

"Why did you say there was no choice but to send Hunters to die against the Grimm?"

"Because I do not know of any way to eradicate their presence completely, Mr Souther. No source to cut off. No permanent solution. They are an ever growing disease, and the only treatment I know is to keep it at bay."

Jaune couldn't sense any falsehood in that statement. It wasn't the whole truth, but that was okay. There was time to obtain the rest.

For now, he had learnt that he might be the only one who was considering a possibility that didn't involve destroying all the Grimm at once. He turned and walked away. Classes were done for the day. It was nearing evening. He might as well go back to dorm and relax a little.

Meanwhile, Team RWBY Dorm:

"So… is anyone going to bring up the obvious?" asked Yang, closing the reference book she had been trying, unsuccessfully, to read for the past half an hour. She was lying on her bed, already changed into her casuals, in this case, a pair of shorts and a loose top. All around her, the rest of her team lay in varying by similar positions of lethargy. The homework they'd been given was tedious, as tended to be the case for Professor Port's lessons.

The blonde haired brawler was the first to officially give up. She had zero intention of slogging through the rest of this archaic text trying to decipher the minute differences in regional variants of Beowulves, especially since they all reacted the same way to a shotgun blast: by dying.

She looked around. Ruby was wearing comically oversized glasses, scrunching up her eyes as she squinted, thinking it might improve her concentration. Elsewhere, Blake appeared to be doing well, but Yang could see the top of Ninjas of Love sticking out from behind her textbook. Even Weiss, who was normally the most studious of them, had taken to lying down in bed instead of sitting at a desk.

Glad for an excuse, Ruby closed her book as well, although she was hesitant to actually address the topic.

Yang was talking, of course, about the beatdown Jaune had delivered earlier to Cardin.

While none of them was a fan of Cardin, and all of them wanted to teach him a lesson, they all had to admit, what Jaune had done was… uncomfortable to watch. It wasn't as though he had injured him physically. There hadn't even been a scratch on the boy.

No, it was the way he had utterly outclassed him in every way, and rubbed that fact right in his face. It was the way he had not even allowed him to try a single blow. It was the way he had made him look like an untrained weakling, and then proceeded to destroy his weapon.

To a Hunter, a weapon was like an extension of their body. A lifelong partner. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say it was a part of their soul. Out in the battlefield, it was one of the only thing keeping one from death. And so, it became a trusted, precious ally, and a symbol of one's own strength and worth.

And Jaune had mercilessly demolished it with his bare hands. It had been like watching a public emasculation. In essence, Jaune had showed through his actions, that the very symbol of Cardin the Hunter, wasn't even capable of matching his punches.

As much as they hated Cardin, even RWBY had to admit they hadn't wished that kind of punishment on him.

"He went a little overboard, I think," said Ruby softly.

Even Blake, the Faunus, who had the most reason out of any of them for wishing punishment on Cardin, had to nod in agreement.

"He did," she said simply. Blake wasn't any stranger to harsh punishments. She had seen what happened to traitors in the White Fang. And she knew… this wasn't the right way to change someone. It wouldn't make Cardin see the error of his ways. It would simply break him. Yes, there was one less person torturing Faunus. But… there was also one less person who might have become an ally. And, in the worst case, Jaune's actions in favour of the Faunus would turn more humans against them.

"Guy went full savage on his ass," said Yang, recalling the full thing with perfect clarity. She wasn't able to smile at the memory. She enjoyed fighting, but that hadn't been a fight. Watching it had been intensely uncomfortable.

Weiss remained silent.

She was… torn.

It had been unexpected. It wasn't Cardin she was concerned about.

It was Jaune.

That had been… a different side of him.

The kindness and light in his eyes, that had won her over, that she found so warm, had been entirely missing. Gone had been the lovable awkward dork she enjoyed sitting with. The naive yet wise boy who could see the good in everyone, and who always found a way to lift her spirits.

In his place, was a boy who walked with a confident, effortless swagger. He hadn't looked at Cardin as an opponent.

He had looked at him as an insect.

Those river-blue eyes had turned ice cold, devoid of mercy.

The change had been sudden and alarming.

Instead of the reliable, mysterious boy, there was some kind of monster in human form. Something about him made Weiss think he could take a life with no hesitation. Kill a man and drop his dead body without an iota of regret.

She didn't like it.

She didn't like this side of him.

"... Remnant to Weiss. Anyone home?"

She realized with a start that she had been lost in thought.

Yang's voice brought her back to reality, and she found all three of her teammates looking at her with concern.

"Yeah," she said.

"Got nothing to say on the matter?" asked Yang. She was surprised that the most outspoken one of them all had so far been silent about the episode.

"I… think I need some air," said Weiss. Ignoring their looks, she got up and left the room. Closing the door behind her, she exhaled, leaning against it.

She felt cloistered inside.

Maybe a walk outside will be good.

As she went down to corridor, she saw a figure approaching from the other end.

It was the one person she couldn't bear to look at right now.

Jaune.

He had reverted back to his normal self again, waving awkwardly at her as he came closer.
It was as if the events of the afternoon hadn't happened at all.

Weiss felt sick. Sick that under the wrapping of that sweet boy was the monster that she had witnessed earlier.

She didn't want to get near him.

She didn't want to talk to him.

She didn't even want to see him.

As he came closer, she refused to look at him.

Jaune noticed how different her reaction was compared to how she normally was around him.

"Hey, is everything all right?"

"I'm fine!" she snapped. "I just… need to be alone for a while."

"You don't look fine…"

"I'm all right. You… should go."

She looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of a flicker of hurt on his face, but he hid it immediately, expression smoothing over, becoming neutral.

"All right. Take care."

Although the words were fine, she sensed no feeling behind them. They had simply been uttered for the sake of ending the conversation.

With a flash of pain, she noted that it had taken all of a second for him to become distant. Nothing much changed on the surface, but somehow, she felt like she had just closed a door.

She watched as he walked past, entering the JNPR dorm.

What have I done?

Jaune could hear the sounds of conversation from within both dorms. They were discussing him.

Well, it isn't entirely unexpected.

He didn't resent them for it. Deep inside, he knew his teammates were good people, as were team RWBY. Even Weiss. But they hadn't been ready to see the way he handled things when pushed. They couldn't understand. As he heard bits and pieces of what they said, the consensus was that he had gone too far.

It wasn't new. Many times before, both Kenshiro and himself had been reviled and driven away because of their way of doing things. More often than not, even the people they helped ended up hating them.

Maybe this is for the best. They will only suffer if they get closer to me.

It had been a pleasant thing while it had lasted. But he had had no illusions that it would last long.

Adjusting mentally, he deliberately made his footsteps slightly louder so that his teammates would hear him coming. As expected, the noise from within stopped. This way, he was able to enter without them worrying that he had overheard them.

As expected, they looked at him awkwardly. Silence followed, and none of them said anything. There was a distance between them now, and the three of them didn't look at him the same as before.

Ren was guarded.

Nora looked at him as if he was a stranger, confused what to think of him.

And Pyrrha… for a moment, he thought she looked almost pleading, as if she wanted him to explain. Any explanation at all would do.

But Jaune did not give one. Grabbing his casuals, he headed to the bathroom to change.

"We should go down for dinner," he said. Things would be much more difficult now, but he was still the leader of the team, and that meant being the leader, even if he wasn't truly one of them.

Dinner was… uncomfortable.

Jaune was aware he was being stared at. Almost everyone he passed looked at him, and most whispered about him to each other without much subtlety. It seemed videos of the episode had been circulated via Scroll message.

"He's the one…"

"The one that beat up that first year…"

"He broke his weapon. Who the hell does that?"

"He doesn't carry any himself. Goddamn freak."

"That was straight up bullying, man."

It was amazing how the tables could turn.

A single act of standing up for his beliefs had made Jaune a bully, and Cardin the victim.

Shaking his head, he collected his food as usual, and began to make his way over to the rest of his team, only to notice that they looked at him with trepidation. It was obvious why. By association with him, the rest of them too were receiving unfavourable attention.

I see. Guess there's no choice then.

While he was used to being an outcast himself, he could not allow his teammates to suffer the same fate. They weren't prepared for it mentally. And… he didn't want them to experience that life.

These are good people. No reason to let them share my burdens.

This too, had been something Kenshiro had warned him about.

He had asked his master time and again why he didn't settle down somewhere. Why he never protested despite the monumentally unfair treatment he was again. It angered Jaune to see the man who saved so many lives being treated as some kind of monster.

Kenshiro had smiled, a rare thing for him.

"You're kind. That, more than anything, tells me you're strong. Kindness is the privilege of the strong. The weak have to struggle just to survive. Remember that, Jaune. Everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. Do not judge them too harshly."

At long last, he understood what he had said.

So be it, then.

Pointedly, he turned away from Pyrrha, Ren and Nora, instead making his way over to one of the empty tables, where he took a seat, and began to eat. Playing the role of an asshole wasn't particularly difficult, at least in terms of skill required.

That was a good thing, since Jaune would have to get used to it.