Hey everybody, I'm here! That's right! Me!
I'm here! Hahaha! Haha... Haaa...
The amount of time this chapter has been in production and the amount of time spent on it are grossly disproportionate. I'm talking months of some(most) of you guys waiting for it, and me hardly working for a good... let's say three months? Yeah. Long ass time to not be doing much of anything, you don't have to tell me. However, the good news is I'm back in a writing mood after so long away, so I'll be chugging along here best I can.
Anyone care for specifics? This chapter had its first words on July 4th, 2018. Far too long ago, all things considered.
Anyways, here you are! Enjoy!
Beta: Knight of Cerberus
"Uncultured philistine."
Pushing open the door to his team's dorm, the last thing Jaune expected out of the pitch-black room was a pair of amber eyes to bore into his own. He stood frozen stiff, like he'd just been told he'd be home alone for a few hours, responsible for looking after all his little sisters. Easing the door open a little more let light into the room.
The beds furthest from Jaune were occupied, Ren and Pyrrha beneath their respective sheets as they slept peacefully. His bed was expectantly empty, but the last one was host to his yukata wearing partner, arms and legs crossed as she watched him intently. He let out a sigh of relief.
"Where have you been?" Blake hissed quietly, clearly not wanting to disturb their teammates. Jaune scrunched his face up in response and shrugged, pulling out his scroll. He slid it open, able to navigate by its glow as he gently closed the door.
"You wouldn't believe me." He mumbled in response, making his way over to the bathroom. The blond pulled the door closed slightly behind him, only leaving it open a crack as he flicked the light on.
Fleeing from the cafeteria, running into Yang, chatting with Nora, passing out on the rooftop for a couple of hours, waking up to a bird about to peck his eyes out... He studied himself in the mirror, looking just as worn out as he felt.
The bathroom door swung open a little, and Blake's face poked through the gap. "Try me."
"I was given a whole turkey for breakfast which led to me being sexually assaulted at a cafeteria table. I spent the rest of the day trying to cope."
"You're right, I don't believe you."
"I asked Velvet about it and she just smiled and said 'These things happen'." Jaune didn't even need to turn to Blake to imagine the look on her face. "Right? It's nuts. I never thought Beacon would be like this."
The silence that descended after Jaune spoke lasted a moment as the boy tilted his neck, running his hand along his face as he looked at his reflection. He turned on the tap, leaned down, and splashed his face.
A cough. "That's weird. Almost like this isn't, you know, a school full of hormonal teenagers who're entering a career where they'll be risking their lives day and night, never knowing when something might go wrong."
Jaune stared pointedly at Blake as he grabbed a towel, the girl putting a finger on her chin as she looked around the bathroom, humming innocently. The blond shook his head and dried his face, cheeks warm. As he hung the towel, Blake continued:
"A shame everyone here is built like an athlete as a result. But of course, if we weren't in peak physical condition, that could prove dangerous." Blake tapped her chin repeatedly, Jaune watching the slender finger. "I hear the workload in the later years is pretty intense, too. I wonder what our seniors do to relieve all that stress."
"I get it." Jaune rolled his eyes as he retrieved his toothbrush and toothpaste. He squeezed the tube and ran the water again. "I should have seen it coming, is what you're saying."
"Most definitely." Blake confirmed. "Maybe she thought you wanted it."
The blond shook his head slightly and began to brush his teeth.
"Was she cute?"
Jaune answered with a deadpan stare instead of words. Even Yang had asked that. He moved his head back and forth in a somewhat affirmative motion. He couldn't deny that she'd been a looker.
"How far did you go?"
Blake continued to ask questions for the next minute or so, and for each one, Jaune provided a non-verbal, non-committal answer. Every question led to one more explicit. He spat into the sink and rinsed out his mouth, wiping his lips. He looked in the mirror, cheeks and ears bright red, before turning to Blake – who at some point, walked into the bathroom completely, door closed behind her.
"What's warmer, the mouth or-"
"We didn't do anything." Jaune practically whined. "She groped me, and I ran away."
"Oh." She sounded disappointed. "Why didn't you just say that, then? When you said you were sexually assaulted, I just assumed it was more than a little touching."
A little touching? "I was brushing my teeth, I couldn't just answer you." Jaune replied, putting his toiletries away. "Besides, something like that is still assault, you know. It doesn't have to be, uh..."
"Intercourse?"
Jaune rubbed his eyes, sighing. "Yes, that."
The girl crossed her arms. "So, was you walking in on Pyrrha in here also sexual assault? I'm sure you saw some-"
"That was an accident. This was on purpose." A second later, his head snapped towards her. "And I didn't see anything with Pyrrha."
Blake huffed, crossing her arms. "How do you know it wasn't an accident? With this other girl, I mean."
"What? She... touched me, Blake." He gesticulated, fingers wiggling.
"Right. I guess she did." Blake responded, opening up the bathroom door and stepping out. She adjusted her yukata and closed the door with an echoing click.
The door opened.
"I'm not a racist." She whispered, retreating once more. With a thud, Jaune was alone in the bathroom again.
"What?" What did that have to do with anything?
There wasn't an answer from the other side of the door. Glancing at his reflection once more, Jaune toyed with his hair for a moment. After giving it a few more seconds, he turned off the light, opened the door, and made his way over to his bed, feeling around in the darkness. He found the foot of Blake's bed – closest to the bathroom – and used that to find his way.
With a glance over, Jaune could tell Blake was under her covers. Jaune glanced over to her the moment he made it to his bedside, putting his scroll down.
He couldn't exactly tell, but it seemed like he held eye contact with the girl, even in the darkness. The weird feeling lingered up until he pulled his top over his head, tossing it at the foot of his bed.
She was still looking. He could feel it.
"Aren't you gonna sleep?" He asked quietly, still cautious of waking their teammates.
"Aren't you?" Her whispered response seemed like it died just beyond his ears.
Jaune just shrugged, worked the button of his pants, and dropped them to his feet.
It took Jaune a moment before he moved his hands in front of his hips, cheeks warm as his heart pounded softly. "Where do you think you're looking?"
A quiet chuckle as the girl turned over. Jaune watched her carefully, before moving his hands.
Why was he concerned with which way she was facing? Aside from the shaft of moonlight trickling into the dorm, he could barely see anything himself. Blake would have been able to make out his silhouette at the most.
That didn't stop Jaune from quickly shuffling into bed, pulling his sheets around him. He narrowed his eyes as they slowly adjusted to the light, seeing the back of Blake's head and the bow atop it at last.
He pulled his lips into a narrow line and closed his eyes.
"Night."
"Night, Jaune."
"So I think it'd be best if we switch sparring partners."
Those words from Pyrrha sent a shiver up the blond's neck, his eyes managing to catch Ren's frantic nodding in his peripheral.
"Then... you and me, and Blake and Ren?" Jaune asked, mentally preparing himself.
Pyrrha nodded. "That, or Blake and I partner up, and you two can go against each other."
Jaune mentally cursed himself for volunteering to be Pyrrha's sparring partner as he looked to Ren, and Blake standing on the other side of her. Considering how fervently Ren had volunteered for the change – and how spectacular a fighter Pyrrha already was – he pondered the request as he considered himself a sacrifice in a sense.
After all, this was something Pyrrha brought up with him as only a suggestion. He was their team's leader, so the decision fell to him. What would Blake think if he took on Ren as a sparring partner, while leaving Blake to face off against Pyrrha until they switch again?
As he realized everyone was watching him intently, Jaune searched for his answer under their gazes.
"Yeah, let's switch..." He offered up. All the points Pyrrha had raised made sense, but she specifically mentioned how remaining with the same partners would only settle them into a rhythm with said partners, and hamstring their growth.
Though it would be a painful and arduous ordeal, sparring with Pyrrha would only help him get stronger, right?
Resting his wrist in the crook between his sheath and his hip, Jaune nodded. "We'll go with Pyrrha's suggestion here, alright?"
Jaune could visibly see the tension leave Ren's shoulders.
"Then," The renowned redheaded girl smiled, "would you mind taking me on, Jaune?"
Though it felt like his muscles resisted it, the blond nodded. "That's fine."
Pyrrha's smile seemed to gleam as Jaune turned back to Ren and Blake, who nodded to him in return, turning and pacing away to the other side of the large room.
A loud clang hit Jaune's ears, and his head whipped around to find the source – though he knew what it was already.
They didn't have the room to themselves. He watched on as Yang threw another punch, Nora twisting her massive hammer to catch it on the shaft. An explosion of pink separated the two, and Jaune forced himself to turn his eyes from their fight, and back to the championship fighter he'd be squaring off against.
"Maybe one day we can have joint training with VLWR?" He suggested as Pyrrha hummed. She seemed to also be watching their neighboring team.
"That's not a bad idea, but we already fight them in Ms. Goodwitch's class. She doesn't seem to pair teammates with each other, so it's probably best we do that in our free time when we can."
Jaune nodded along, though he hadn't realized that until his teammate had pointed it out. She was right.
The redhead tilted her head back and forth, her ponytail and the chains of her circlet swaying with the motion. The sounds of gunfire and metal grating against metal resounded behind him, and a quick glance showed Blake and Ren in a dance of gunfire, blades, and a long black ribbon.
"We should get started." Jaune regretted the words the moment they parted his lips, Pyrrha turning and walking away. She looked over her shoulder as she readied her weapons, before turning with her shield raised.
Jaune drew his sword, hand choking up on the hilt as he rested his other hand against the pommel. He saw Pyrrha's eyes glance to the side, and she looked up from behind her cover for a moment.
"We still have thirty minutes until we should leave, so pace yourself."
Jaune winced, spreading his legs as he held his sword slightly to the side, nodding.
Thirty minutes was a long time. He took the first step forward.
It wouldn't be wrong to say that it seemed like Pyrrha had been shot out of a cannon. The girl took a second to close the distance between them, her verdant eyes shining as her shield rose. Jaune barely had time to move his hand to the flat of his blade, catching the blunt impact along Crocea Mors as he was forced from his feet.
In a feat of pure acrobatic luck Jaune was able to twist his body and land upright, but before he could recover, Pyrrha was on him again. The tip of her spear lightly grazed his face, the uncomfortable feeling of a sharp point digging into his skin before his Aura could even push it aside.
It felt like she'd cut him, but he knew better than to check if he was actually wounded. Right now, he needed to focus on Pyrrha, her weapon, and the sword in his hands.
No, that was wrong. He had more than that.
Lifting his knee into his chest yet maintaining his balance, Jaune kicked at Pyrrha. The bottom of his shoe was caught by Pyrrha's shield. Before she could chop at his leg though, Jaune pushed off, hopping back slightly as he angled the tip of his sword towards his opponent. He gripped the hilt tightly and stepped forward.
His mind raced against his body, searching for an option that wouldn't leave him skewered as he dashed towards Pyrrha. He twisted his elbow, lowering it as he ran his shoulder into his opponent's shield, his sword grating against her spear.
Jaune heard the mechanical click as Pyrrha's spear retracted and folded, its edge growing as he pulled his blade back, twisting and stepping quickly. He attempted to wrap around Pyrrha's left side, but she kept him in front of her.
The boy nearly dropped his sword as Pyrrha's cut through the air before his face. If he hadn't leaned back, the edge would have caught him right on the bottom of his chin.
He'd learned a lot from Velvet, but Pyrrha was putting all of him to the test, right now.
Jaune gathered his Aura, and slapped Pyrrha's sword away with the palm of his hand. His elbow, his shoulder, his chest, and then down his other arm: he felt the Aura flow from point to point as it snaked up the blade in his hand.
How…!?
Crocea Mors had rejected him until now. What had changed?
He whipped it around, Pyrrha barely ducking out of the way of his slash, sword lengthened by the same white glow that had just surrounded his opposite hand. Wide open, Jaune could only let Pyrrha's weapon graze against his chestplate as he retreated.
Pyrrha didn't let him retreat. She kept up with his backstep, shield raised to catch Jaune's only response. His Aura collided with the bronze-colored barrier with a metallic clang.
Jaune grunted as Pyrrha cut at his underarm, Aura gathered to protect against the edge. The girl's shield pushed against his chest, and his grip on his sword faltered.
Blade clattering to the ground, Jaune was pushed back. He stumbled, then stood strong, Pyrrha between him and his weapon.
She didn't say anything, just staring into his eyes with her own piercing green. The redhead had an overwhelming advantage in many ways: Jaune didn't know how to fight back against her; she had a wealth of experience fighting against many other opponents throughout her life; she had clearly superior defense far beyond his own.
Pyrrha was dominating this fight. They both knew it. Yet she still stood across from him, weapons ready even as she'd disarmed Jaune.
She was terrifying.
Jaune pulled his sheath from his belt, hand wrapped around the top of it. Perhaps Pyrrha expected him to use its shield form to push back and retrieve his sword. She wasn't wrong.
As Jaune's shield popped open, he held it before him. Idly, he wondered what kind of semblance Pyrrha had. They'd yet to talk about anything like that – which was good, because Jaune himself wouldn't know exactly what to say.
Maybe... Pyrrha's was mindreading? He stared her down as she reaffirmed her stance. As his eyes trailed up her legs, he recalled what Blake had said last night about everyone at Beacon being built like an athlete.
As he blushed at the memory of accidently seeing Pyrrha bathing, he most certainly confirmed mindreading wasn't the girl's semblance – she'd probably have shared his blush.
"Are you coming?" She asked easily. Contrarily, mounting an offensive with just a shield wouldn't be easy for Jaune.
Locking his legs for just a moment, Jaune sprinted forwards, drawing in a breath just before his shield collided with Pyrrha's own. As she swiped at him with her sword, he put his hand out, fist clenched with Aura, and punched his own shield into Pyrrha's. She seemed to stumble back as he pushed, even as her blade caught him on the shoulder.
He twisted, and knocked her sword aside with his shield, Aura-encased fist still clenched. Before Jaune could land the clumsiest punch he'd ever thrown, Pyrrha spun away.
Her shapely leg caught him in the side of the head, sending him to the ground with a bone-shaking impact. Jaune groaned into the hard floor, face pressed against it.
There was a clattering of metal against the floor, close to his face. As he turned, his eye caught the hilt of Crocea Mors, then glanced up to see Pyrrha walking away.
She turned and settled into the same stance she held at the beginning of their bout. Behind her, on the far wall, Jaune watched with a groan as the minute hand of the clock clicked forward.
Tapping his cane against the floor, Ozpin's lips were pursed as he looked upon the array of monitors before him. It may have been early in the morning before classes had even begun, but for the headmaster of Beacon Academy and the rest of his staff, work never ceased.
"What do you think of them, Glynda?" He asked casually, watching as a blond boy returned to his feet, sword and shield in hand. Bespectacled eyes glanced from him to his current opponent, the reputable Pyrrha Nikos, before turning his attention to another screen, a normally flowing red cloak frozen to the ground. Ozpin afforded himself a slight smile.
"They clearly have potential." The woman stated easily, Ozpin able to guess at her relaxed posture simply from her tone alone. "These eight are the only ones of their grade up at this time, and they've made a habit of it. Team VLWR are up even earlier than APBL, and Ms. Valkyrie seems to take them through a vigorous workout routine."
"Nothing that affects their studies or performance in your classes?" Ozpin's eyes focused on the aforementioned leader, seeing the girl swinging that large hammer of hers around as if it barely held any weight.
"No, if anything, it seems like she considers that when putting them through their paces." Glynda replied. "She seems to value rest, something even some of our senior leaders seem to forget."
"And APBL's leader?" Ozpin queried.
"He is... adequate."
That was an interesting response. "Is that so?"
"Yes."
The headmaster hummed to himself, wondering exactly what his comrade meant. "Are you speaking of his capabilities as a leader, or his worth as a huntsman in training?"
"Both. As a leader, it's harder to judge, as it's not as obvious as Ms. Valkyrie's own capacity. There's been no complaints from his teammates, but neither have they exceeded expectations."
Ozpin finally turned to the rest of the staff room. Seated around the table he'd stood at the head of – his own chair momentarily ignored – were the bulk of Beacon's professors. The others seemed to have a lot on their plates this morning, oddly enough.
"Does that seem to be the consensus here?" Ozpin questioned the room as he sat. Bartholomew looked up from his thermos, while Peter turned from his animated conversation with Sheryl.
"Sorry, we were discussing the first-year leaders?" Peter Port chuckled softly, stroking his mustache as he leaned back in his chair. "APBL and VLWR... I'd say Ms. Valkyrie was an obvious selection, especially after reviewing the initiation recordings again."
On the other side of the rotund instructor, Sheryl Peach leaned forwards. "She was a good choice, and despite Mr. Arc being overwhelmingly average, I feel he was as well. Both teams are shaping up well with those two at their helms."
Ozpin turned his eyes from the excitable pinkette to her foil, the quiet woman sitting directly across from her. "Anything to add, Lilac?"
"I still think Ms. Schnee would have made an excellent leader." The youngest of Beacon's professors, Lilac Periwinkle – Professor Peri to her students – twirled a pen at the table. "Perhaps if they took different relics."
Ozpin nodded in agreement. "Perhaps." His gaze moved a seat over. "Bart?"
"I see no fault."
A few shots of espresso, and the man would likely have more animated input. The good doctor wasn't much of a morning person, and Ozpin wasn't about to shove such down his colleague's gullet for a simple opinion, as entertaining as it would be.
"No one here has anything against their appointment? Good."
"It's not like you'd change your mind." Glynda called him out, crossing her arms beneath her chest.
Ozpin reached for his mug, and wrapped his fingers around it, warmth traveling into his body. He smiled and sipped.
"Have we ever changed his mind?" Peter grinned.
"No." The tired doctor across agreed.
The two younger professors towards the end of the table shared a look of discomfort – they weren't quite used to their antics, Ozpin figured. Their shared discomfort seemed like it was going to carry on, until Sheryl stuck her tongue out at Lilac. The professor of Dust studies leaned out of the way as a knife soared past her head, quivering in the wall behind her.
The headmaster of Beacon simply shook his head and took another sip. They had their own antics, though he really wished it would stop putting holes in his walls.
He returned his mind to the matter at hand. "If it's only these first years that are taking such a serious approach this early in the year," Ozpin pondered aloud, his words immediately muting Lilac's growls and Sheryl's snickers, "Then it seems we need to motivate the rest of them, correct?"
Many nods were returned as the professors agreed. Ozpin blinked, looking among them.
"I'm open to suggestions."
He was content to sit back, sip at his mug, and let everyone else bounce ideas around. They certainly knew the students better than he did this early – though the headmaster hoped to rectify that.
"An elimination tournament in the Emerald Forest."
"Peter," Glynda didn't seem impressed by the idea at all, "I've already drawn up the budget."
Ozpin tried to hold in a laugh and instead quietly choked on his coffee. It took every ounce of his ability to keep a pensive expression, the warm liquid nearly creeping up into his sinuses.
He swallowed, glancing among those at the table.
No one seemed to have noticed his mishap – and it seemed everyone was considering Peter's suggestion seriously.
"What does the budget have to do with a tournament?" The well-rounded professor countered. "Unless we were considering some sort of incentive for the victor – or victors – all it would really take is each of us announcing it in our classes. We'd be able to pass it on through word of mouth to the other staff as well. Messages can be sent, calls made."
Ozpin raised an eyebrow as it took Glynda a moment to raise an argument in return. The blonde woman tapped the table softly.
In the span of seconds, Ozpin had an idea of what she was going to say. He thought about the students, their wants and needs. He thought about the professors and the rest of their staff. The man considered the pros and cons.
He considered the future. Steps ahead: days, weeks, months, years...
Peter's idea wasn't bad.
"I'm not averse to a first-year tournament of sorts; something like that would be easy to manage." Glynda adjusted her posture as she spoke, leaning back. "It's tossing them into the Emerald Forest to fight not just the Grimm, but each other, that presents issues."
Setting his mug down, Beacon's headmaster stood. He scanned the faces of each professor before him as they turned.
"Let's do it."
The blonde professor's eyes seemed primed to pop out of her head. "Ozpin, I don't-"
"We can arrange for an incentive. A prize for the winners." He pressed on, turning to nod at Glynda. "A few extra posters around won't cut into our budget much, and the prize itself doesn't need to be anything that has much monetary value. As for the Grimm in the Emerald Forest themselves, we can either have that as part of the challenge, or..."
He trailed off intentionally, and Lilac perked up across the table. "We send the seniors on a hunting trip?"
Ozpin nodded. "Yes. The older students can head out to the forest and clear it out as best they can, if that's what we decide. If not, they can retrieve the losers when they're eliminated."
Bartholomew adjusted his glasses, yawning loudly. Ozpin waited for a moment, but it seemed like he didn't have important to add.
Just as the headmaster was about to speak, the doctor nearly shouted, sitting straight up:
"Are we going to force the students to participate? Will there not be negative effects on the students' morale if they suffer a devastating loss? Will the victor or victors end up slacking after their victory? Will the seniors feel they've missed an opportunity, and that this year's first-years are being granted more privilege?"
And just like that, the doctor's questions came to an abrupt halt. The man didn't even seem out of breath. Everyone stared at him, Ozpin included.
Bartholomew slouched immediately after, wrapping his hands around his thermos. It seemed he wasn't quite ready for the day just yet.
Ozpin cleared his throat. "We should make participation mandatory. Live experience is better than classroom lecture any day. They're here to become huntsmen and huntresses, and there's more than a fair share of them who'll have to fight more than just Grimm at some point in their lives – perhaps even in an eerily similar scenario."
The room was deathly quiet after Ozpin made that point. He reached down and scooped up his mug swirling its contents around.
"Now then, what else shall we discuss?"
As he strode up to the cafeteria counter, Jaune was nearly sweating. He glanced to his left, out among the milling students already enjoying their meals, and then behind him to his teammates.
Ren just stared blankly back at him – though the stare seemed to hold a sense of hungry urgency.
The blond forced his eyes forward as he cracked his best smile at the cafeteria lady. He was summarily unamused when a tray was shuffled towards him with an entire loaf of bread on it. The elderly woman shooed him away, and Jaune stood to the side of the lineup as Ren, Pyrrha, and Blake all received trays as well.
Right now, what they had was a secondary concern. Keeping an eye out for a certain female senior of his was the first.
"Relax Jaune. We're not going to let some horny chick jump your bones in the middle of the cafeteria."
With a blush and a sigh, Jaune attempted to do as Blake said. He strode forwards as confidently as he could and led his team to an empty table. It wouldn't be good to have them doubting his ability to lead now.
In a way, if what Blake and even Yang had said held any truth, the legitimacy of his enrollment might be jeopardized just by how he'd been unable to handle someone who was a little touchy feely.
Pyrrha sat across from him after he settled in. "Did that really did happen?"
...Or maybe it was just those two. Pyrrha seemed like she was still having trouble believing it.
"Maybe you have an affinity for attracting unusual attention." Ren tacked on with a soft smile. It looked like he had a rather large slab of meat on his tray. "Or maybe it's just bad luck, but could you imagine if that was your affinity?"
Jaune tried to perk up a little. "That affinity stuff from Professor Peri's lecture? I still don't get it."
Ren took a breath, setting aside the knife he had ready to slice into the steaming meat. "Our souls identify with things we don't even realize. Our affinity inspires growth in all ways: spiritually, physically… even our semblances seem to have a tendency to develop in tune with them..." the dark-haired boy poked at the meat with a fork, Jaune watching it spring back. "It really has me wondering what my affinity could be. What else my semblance can do."
"That's just a theory though, isn't it?" Blake shuffled in beside Jaune. "Semblances are… reflections of the soul, I think she said? Or more like a window peering into it? And..."
"And a connection with your affinity helps your semblance develop. I don't see how a semblance might evolve, though." Pyrrha was already slicing into a wheel of cheese. "The soul subconsciously has a connection to something which is called an affinity, and then the affinity determines the path the development of the semblance takes?"
Jaune's head had been lost in the clouds for the very beginning of that lecture, but he'd really glued to the professor's words when she'd started talking about semblances. Aside from what Velvet had told him years ago, semblances and aura were something he still couldn't quite wrap his head around.
"She said something about semblances giving you a hint to what your affinity is, but it's hard to picture what mine points to." Ren finally began to cut into the meat, Jaune rubbing his chin.
"Affinity could literally be anything, right?" The blond pondered aloud, and he got nods in return.
"They say you're naturally drawn to it. So it could be-"
"Meat?"
The word left Jaune's lips before Blake finished speaking. Ren sighed as he cut into the slab – a large piece separated from the whole.
"Push your plate this way."
"I could kiss you right now."
Ren coughed softly. "Don't. Please."
Jaune smiled, and then he froze up as the slab was gently laid out, touching his bread. There was one thing he certainly remembered from the other day, despite his best efforts to forget the majority of it. Hadn't that girl said something about the cafeteria's system? And him having figured it out?
He recalled his plate, laden with a mass amount of food and little of the turkey he'd gotten – and all of it diverse.
The blond looked among his team – and their trays. Pyrrha had cheese, Jaune had bread, Ren had meat, and Blake had an assortment of vegetables and potato salad, from the looks of things.
"Are we all actually that stupid?" Jaune breathed, looking around again to confirm his suspicions. "Ren, cut two more big slices." The amount of meat Ren had shaved off for him was more than enough. Dividing Pyrrha's wheel of cheese into quarters, breaking up his bread, and splitting Blake's veggies?
A minute or two after everyone caught on, they each had a sizable meal before them.
"We're all actually just that stupid." Blake replied with a soft sigh, nibbling on some bread Jaune had pulled apart for her.
"In hindsight, it makes perfect sense."
There was a chorus of agreement. What better way to promote friendship between teammates than to make them share food? You know, even though they hadn't said anything and just slapped massive amounts of food on their trays and expected them to understand?
"Son of a bitch... Remember that time I ate like a kilo of ground beef?"
Everyone turned to Blake.
"Pretty sure we were supposed to make tacos with that."
The table collectively groaned. Jaune had a bowl full of lettuce that day, nice and neatly shredded.
"I knew the cooks hadn't messed up! Those weren't supposed to be pancakes, those were soft tortillas..."
Pyrrha shoved her face into her hands. "I had the salsa and the rest of the fixings...!"
The four members of ABPL collectively mourned the loss of taco day as they ate.
Jaune set his utensils down on an empty plate and sighed. "I can't believe we were so stupid. I mean, they gave me a whole swordfish! I knew I wasn't supposed to eat a whole fish."
Blake immediately slammed her hand on the table. The glare Jaune's eyes met held promises of death and despair. "No, you were. You gave it to me, remember?"
"R-right."
The black-haired girl inched closer, until she was nearly crawling on top of Jaune. Her breath hit his face she was so close. Blake's eyes were half-lidded, and her voice came out as a whisper:
"Give it to me next time too, okay?"
Jaune's shoulders tensed, and his own eyes widened. "O-okay!"
Blake pulled back with a smile that stretched, humming a happy affirmative. Never before had Jaune been more terrified and aroused. Well, except for just the other day-
"Blake, you could keep your promises for once..." Jaune let out as warmth spread to his cheeks.
"What?"
"Nothing."
A shrill shriek brushed Jaune's ears and popped the awkward mood like a bubble: the sound was quiet, but most certainly noticeable.
Worse, it was recognizable.
The blond's head whipped around at the same time as Blake's, and he could feel the girl tense up beside him. Jaune's legs bulged, but they slacked for another reason.
"That hurts!"
He let out a heavy breath through his nose.
"C'mon Velv', kick his ass..." Jaune muttered under his breath.
Across the cafeteria, Cardin Winchester and his team were having a laugh, but the subject of their torment was a girl Jaune had known for what felt like all his life. The blond willed himself to stay put in his seat, even though he was already picking the best route to take to plant his foot squarely in Cardin's teeth.
How fucking dare he.
Jaune had to dig his fingers into the wood of the bench beneath him as he watched the bastard give Velvet's ears another tug. He tapped his foot, knowing his sister was just waiting for an opening. A moment for her to get one foot up, spin, and knock the bastard around.
An agonizingly long second or two passed, and nothing happened. To Jaune's surprise, Blake made to stand before he did.
His hand lashed out, grabbed her wrist, and hauled her back down.
"Jaune? She's..." She hissed, eyes filled with as much anger as he felt. "That's your sister."
"I know."
"Cardin's-"
"I know." He couldn't stress the last syllable enough.
Blake stared into his eyes, before Jaune turned back to the entire cafeteria's focus at the moment.
Velvet did nothing.
That pissed him off more than anything.
Jaune's grip relaxed, and he drew in a breath.
He stood, gently pressing against the cafeteria table, sliding both him, Blake, and the bench they were sitting on back. The boy lifted his leg to step over the bench.
It pressed down against the wood. He jumped to the next table over, landing with all the grace of a bull, but remaining surefooted.
The next table was a further jump, but at that point, the shocked gasps of the people he passed were barely audible past the blood pumping through his ears. Long strides and the leaps he took carried him quickly, if a little clumsily.
Cardin's head turned as Jaune let his legs slack as he landed one table closer. Spinning and flicking his toes, arms stretched out behind him, Jaune's knee collided with the boy's braincase. The larger teen was sent flying into a neighboring table with an impact that cracked the surface.
Splinters flew as Cardin's bulky frame sent two even halves of the table jutting up. The blond's heart pounded in his chest, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he stopped right next to his sister.
"Jaune?" Velvet's slightly teary eyes met his.
"Hi. The hell are you doing?" He hissed between clenched teeth. "You can knock them flat."
"Well, umm..."
Jaune turned as Cardin staggered to his feet, clutching his head. The blond gestured to him. "Look at that. You can do ten times better, so what the hell are you doing, Velv'?"
"You shithead..." Cardin called out. The boy ignored him.
"I can defend myself. That's just it." Velvet replied, eyes still teary but a frown crossing her lips. "Not everyone can."
Eyes rolling, Jaune turned back to Cardin and his team. "Not this shit again..."
Cardin blinked and shook the dust off himself as he put bulky fists up. His formerly shocked team joined him at his sides, looking as ready for a fight as the big man himself.
Jaune clenched his fists, widened his stance, and brought his hands up as well. His knuckles lined up with his sight, and then he lowered them just a bit.
"You're dead!" The large punk called out, charging forward.
The blond boy stood his ground, shoulders tensed up.
Jaune took a shuddering breath, the sun having long-since set. The tops of rows of corn obscured much of their surroundings, beyond what was already trampled by the beasts. Everything was silent but the weeping of the girl behind him.
So he liked to believe.
Velvet was giggling as he threw punch after punch, kick after kick.
"Your form is so sloppy! You're not going to hit anything like that."
The blond snorted, bandage on his cheek from where it had been scratched by a tree branch earlier in the day. "Who cares about form? All I gotta do is hit the Grimm hard enough, right?"
"Yeah, and I'm saying you won't hit them. Where'd you learn to punch? Some really bad action movies?"
The faunus girl's giggling resumed as the blond blushed. Jaune dropped his fists and sighed.
"Teach me how to fight, then. You're going to a combat school, right?"
Velvet put a finger on her chin and hummed.
"Nope!"
"What? Come on!"
"Maybe one day." The older girl offered.
"Really?"
Jaune stepped to the outside of Cardin's punch, and drove his own fist into the boy's gut. He swept his leg and threw more punches – relentless as he drove his knuckles into flesh again and again, trailing up the boy's torso until one extended arm put his left into the taller boy's nose.
His hips were still square as Cardin fell, but he heard rapid footsteps from behind. Jaune leaned forwards and his leg lashed out, catching somebody somewhere with the bottom of his shoe. He righted himself and spun, bringing his elbow down on a head of brown hair. Jaune wasn't sure which member of CRDL it was. Dove, maybe.
Russel – Jaune could never forget that weird hair – rushed him. He doubled over Jaune's fist, but the blond wasn't done. He firmly pressed his knuckles of his fists against the boy's head on either side, holding him up.
At least, until Jaune hopped backwards, and brought the boy's forehead into his knee. He fell to the ground with a groan.
It was only then that Jaune had realized a crowd had gathered around him and team CRDL. Red hair caught his eye, and his eyes passed over his team for just a brief moment as he turned.
The member of CRDL with the slicked-back hair was helping Cardin to his feet. Dove or Sky – whichever of the two it was – propped him up only to be roughly pushed aside by his leader.
Cardin rushed Jaune again, but the blond stood there and glared, panting.
The boy's fingers dug into his uniform and Cardin smiled as he pulled his fist back. Much too far back. About as far back as an eight-year-old Jaune might have, trying to impress a girl a year older than him who was much better at fighting.
Jaune stepped a bit to the side, twisting as Cardin put all his weight into a punch, pressing one palm against the boy's arm as the large fist breezed past his face. The blond held his free arm in front of his face for a moment, before focusing all his strength through his legs and his hips as he twisted.
His elbow landed squarely in the back of Cardin's head, and the big guy toppled again.
Jaune still didn't know the name of the last guy who was standing. It was a fifty-fifty chance it was Dove or Sky. He stomped forwards, and the guy practically cowered.
"C'mon, you were laughing too." Was all Jaune said as he grabbed the back of the guy's uniform. He lifted him up and turned him around.
"I'm sorry!" Dove-Sky nearly shrieked.
"Yeah, I know, but I've always wanted to try this, and you guys really pissed me off."
Jaune bent forwards and wrapped his arms neatly around the guy's waist.
"What's going on?" The voice was distant, feminine, and immediately recognizable. Out of the corner of Jaune's eye, he thought he saw the crowd parting.
Well, he'd land in a lot of trouble for this, he was sure. Might as well go out with a bang.
Jaune heaved, lifting the skinnier boy and holding onto him as he threw him over his head. Back arching, the blond planted the boy's head as directly into the ground as he could.
Somebody in the crowd laughed and clapped. Whoever it was, their mirth quickly quieted and their claps slowed as Jaune rolled out of the maneuver, pushing himself to his feet.
His eyes trailed up thin legs, and he met the interested gaze of Lilac Periwinkle. Jaune felt all weight leave his body.
"You're coming with me."
Jaune made to turn his head and found he still could. He looked over at his team, their eyes wide, and Velvet, who was aghast.
"I told you I would do it one day!" He called out to her, nearly chuckling as he felt everything slow.
The boy was hit with a wave of nausea, and his vision blurred. The last thing Jaune saw was a broad grin on a girl's face.
Oh no? What happened to our poor hero? If only there was some way for everyone to find out! It has me nearly biting my nails.
See you next update!