Chapter 17
As he sat down, Jaune closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. For a moment, he shut out everything around him, and focused on just his breathing.
Then he opened them again, taking in the classroom.
I can do this, he told himself, trying to make himself believe it. Getting made team leader was never in his plans, nor was the accompanying Leadership class. He could fake a lot, but faking in front of the sharpest bunch of students? Maybe not… Honestly, he thought it was still a fluke he was chosen as a leader in the first place.
Fortunately, he had someone who he could look to for a real example. Weiss sat next to him, promptly setting up her workstation in the same precise fashion she had in Seminar. She didn't look intimidated. Maybe it would just be another class.
And yet, the knot in his stomach was still there.
He glanced around at the other students, taking them in. While the classroom was the same design as the others, they only took up half the room, unlike Seminar, which had been full to the top. He recognized some faces, but others were completely new.
Worse still, there was no sense of uniformity. Among the team leaders, he could see some that were visibly muscular while others were skinnier than he was, and, if he was guessing by the skin tones, there was a broad range of nationalities. No outstanding, unifying trait that screamed "leader."
Opening his Scroll, he tried his best to focus on other things. He tapped his stylus in thought, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do. Maybe just writing down what I know.
Aside from himself, first in his team line up was Emerald. Admittedly, he didn't know as much about her as he did the other two, but he'd seen her fight, and she was fast. Still slow compared to Ruby, but he hadn't seen anyone as fast as Ruby before, and Emerald was still faster than the rest of them. And then there were her chains. Jaune wasn't even sure how she used them as well as she did, but they were as much a tool as a weapon. He'd seen the way she used them to move both herself and others around the battlefield. The only reason they'd gotten the helmet relic was because of her.
He didn't know much else about her weapons or fighting style though, and he made a note to ask her about it later. If he was going to be in charge of any kind of quartermastery, he'd need to know some details. Aside from her equipment, she seemed nice, if reserved. She was still more than capable of working with the others though, from what he'd seen.
Ren was next. Like Emerald, he was mobile and fast, but seemed to rely more on being closer to enemies than she did. Jaune had seen him use his bare hands to fend off some of the Grimm they'd fought, or even his feet. He was also skilled at tracking, given how he'd lead them to Bullseye.
Compared to Emerald, he was more quiet than reserved. Where Emerald seemed to pick select moments to speak, Ren tended to say his part in a simple, unobtrusive manner. He has some interesting insights though, from the conversations he'd spoken up in.
Naturally, he couldn't help but think about Nora. The two seemed to be a package deal in many ways. Where Ren was mobile, Nora was tanky; he had fast, light attacks, she had slow, heavy ones. And when they fought together, they seemed to keep perfect pace together.
Even outside of combat, they seemed to have a special flow between them. Nora was excited and outgoing, while Ren was quiet and contemplative. But somehow they managed to talk just fine with one another. Out of the team, she was the most boisterous, and enthusiastic. But there was something about the way she spoke, like she filled the space she was given. There had been plenty of times where she was content to let others speak, and just listen, while other times she did the majority of the talking.
Jaune sighed, running a hand through his hair. This was way more than he signed up for. No doubt the other leaders already had their team members figured out while he was floundering.
His thoughts were cut off as the door opened and the professor stepped in. The man was broad, and a little on the shorter side, wearing a double breasted burgundy suit with gold trimmings and buttons. His hair was grey, but carefully maintained into two slightly curling sides, and his moustache was equally slicked. He walked with a certain swagger of being even bigger than he already was.
"Good afternoon, class! Thank you for coming in! I know this class is in a later slot than many of the ones you take, but it is one of the most important classes you'll ever have!" he said in a cheery, full-bodied voice as he strode in, moving up to the board. He began writing as he spoke. "My name is Professor Port, though you may call me Port, if you so like."
"I'm sure many of you have preconceptions about what this class will be about," Port continued, turning to face them with a small chuckle. "These ideas come from the examples of leadership we see throughout our lives, and are reflective of our cultural and personal histories. However, there are elements of leadership that are universal, and I am here to help you refine those elements. Not everyone will use the same leadership strategies, but we all pull from the same tools."
Port paused a moment, his expression mellowing into something more solemn and serious. "Before we continue, I warn you: leadership is a privilege. It is something that we are afforded through our actions, and thus can also be revoked through our actions. Your position is not one to be abused. Anyone who tries to use their status for their sole gain will find themselves facing severe punishments. As our Headmaster says: 'Leadership is not just a title you wear into battle, it's a badge you carry everywhere'. And I'm inclined to agree with him."
The silence over the classroom was broken by a light laugh from the professor. "Now, let us move on from such serious topics, and begin the class in earnest! We'll start with team basics."
Jaune instantly felt the change in the students around him, even as he began to scribe his notes down. Suddenly, styli were being put to Scroll, and the atmosphere shifted to intense focus. Well, mostly, he mentally corrected as he noted a couple of students in the back rows that didn't seem as engaged.
"The first thing to know about your team is its members," the professor continued. "Your team is made up of individuals, each with their own skills, feelings, and instincts. And while it is the job of a team leader to assist in the growth of their teammates and to lead them, it is not your job to force them to change. If nothing else, this is what you should take from this class. Your teammates are individuals, and forcing them to change can have adverse effects. I am not suggesting you let bad behaviour or habits continue, but rather, that you understand that each of us has our own way of doing things. These varied approaches and outlooks foster growth and development in the team as a whole.
The next most important thing is the understanding of yourself, and what kind of leader you are. Some lead from the back as orchestrators and strategists, while others lead from the front as vanguards. Both are valid styles of leadership, and a leader should be able to adapt to what the situation needs.
With both these in mind, I have compiled your names and contact information into a shared file that has been sent to you all. I strongly recommend that you save the information to your Scrolls, and start getting to know your fellow leaders. To that end, I thought we might undertake a short exercise, and go around the room and introduce ourselves. After all, I've spoken long enough," Port chuckled, then nodded politely towards one of the students on the end of the front row. "If you wouldn't mind starting us off?"
Jaune half-listened as he input the contact info in his Scroll; twenty-eight leaders in total, plus the contact info from the other students he'd met. Humourlessly, he noted that it was the most full his contacts had ever been.
From what he heard, it seemed like most of the students were Valean, but there were some from all four of the major nations, and some minor nations as well. That was a fact about Beacon that always confused him; despite being a Valean school, it took in a large number of international students, many who would return home to their nations once their education was finished. If they were trying to train Huntsmen to help the people, then it seemed strange to allot seats to students who wouldn't be around to help the people they'd built connections with
"Weiss Schnee, Team WARP."
Jaune snapped back to attention as Weiss spoke next to him, her voice clear and composed. Almost the moment she finished, he could feel and hear the murmurs of the other students. He wasn't surprised; the Schnee name was quite famous. It took him until Weiss looked at him to realize it was his turn.
"Oh, uh, Jaune Arc. Team JERN," he said, starting to turn to the next student when Professor Port spoke.
"Arc, you say? You wouldn't happen to be from Patch, would you?" Port inquired, and Jaune felt his blood freeze.
"Yes," he managed to grind out, hoping that his tension didn't leak into his voice.
"I believe I knew your parents! A long line of prestigious huntsmen. I'm glad to see the tradition continuing!" Port chortled. "Ah, but I'm sorry, I interrupted. Please, onto the next student."
Yep. It's decided. This was a terrible idea, Jaune lamented internally, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He was nothing but a tremendous, colossal idiot for ever thinking he could get away with it. He was doomed for sure.
Port knew his parents. No doubt he would soon contact them, and then the whole thing would be over. Suddenly, the sword at his hip felt much heavier. The stolen sword.
For the rest of the class, he distracted himself by trying to take notes, but he couldn't help but feel like the hands of the clock were like the executioner's axe, slowly inching forward to the moment his life would be over. And when the clock chimed happily, he could only feel a weight in his bones that made him stick to his seat.
"We should reconvene with our teams," Weiss said matter-of-factly as she stood up, recollecting her things.
"Uh...yeah, sure...I'll be right there," Jaune mumbled, his chest tightening as Professor Port began to swagger over towards them.
"You know, I should have seen it when you walked in. You look quite a bit like your father! He and I were good friends in our school days!" Port laughed before offering his hand. "I'm truly happy to see that one of his children is attending our academy."
"Uh...Professor Port, sir...I uh…" Jaune verbally stumbled, trying to figure out his words. The students were filing out of the room, grains of sand in a quickly emptying sandglass. What can I say? Nothing can dig me out of this. In his mind, he could see it all laid out. He'd be brought to the Headmaster's office, be shouted at, kicked out of the school, and his team would fall apart…
His team. The one he didn't deserve.
"I don't think I deserve to be the leader of my team," Jaune admitted once the classroom was empty.
"Why do you think that?" Port asked seriously, but gently. "Are you experiencing first day jitters, or do you have specific concerns? Because I assure you, Mr. Arc, we can fix any-"
"My transcripts were faked," Jaune blurted, interrupting the professor. For a long, heavy moment, there was nothing but silence, and Jaune was almost certain that his heart had stopped.
Port made no noise as he slowly walked to the door of the classroom, closing it with a quiet click before turning back. He seemed to draw himself up with a breath, as if bracing himself before sitting down in the chair behind the desk, and he silently motioned for Jaune to stand in front of him.
"You are aware, Mr. Arc, that what you are saying is a serious breach of academic conduct, correct?" Professor Port asked at last, fixing Jaune with a serious expression completely unlike his jovial one earlier. But even through the seriousness, his thick eyebrows were drawn down in concern. He barely knew this professor, and yet that look stabbed deeper than any shouting Jaune had imagined.
"Yes, sir, I'm aware..."
"What could have possibly motivated you to do this?"
"I just...wanted to prove myself. My family's history is huntsmen. So when I didn't make the cut...I just didn't know what to do. This was all I ever wanted to do."
Professor Port leaned back with a heavy sigh. He twirled one corner of his moustache between his fingers; it would've been almost funny, if Jaune didn't feel like puking."I can understand the desire to live up to the expectations of others, as well as to pursue one's dreams. I presume you are admitting this because you were afraid I'd tell your parents."
"Yes, sir. And…"
"And..?" Port prompted, raising an eyebrow.
"I never wanted to be a team leader. I don't want my...the team to suffer for my mistake. They're good people," Jaune insisted. "They worked way harder than I did to get here, and deserve to be here."
Port leaned forward. "Is that so?"
"It is. Nora and Ren came all the way from Mistral, and had to take care of themselves. And Emerald…" Jaune hesitated. "She has her own history, but she deserves to be here, too."
"Hmm. It's very noble of you to express concern for your teammates, even while you are the one on the chopping block," Port noted, straightening suddenly as he started to type on his Scroll. Writing him up, maybe? After a few minutes, he stood. "Follow me."
Jaune suspected he knew the answer, but asked anyway. "Where are we going?"
"We are going to see the Headmaster. He must be informed immediately."
Jaune accepted in silence, and followed the professor. Fortunately, it seemed like no one had decided to stick around after the class, and so they were left alone in silence. He couldn't help but let his gaze wander, taking in the sights for what would likely be the last time. There was still so much of the campus he had wanted to explore...
His mood only further sunk as they approached the central tower, and Jaune realized just how much it loomed over the campus. The afternoon lighting made the shadow feel like it was glaring down at him. A feeling that wasn't helped when they entered, and were joined by Professor Goodwitch. Judging by her expression, Port had likely already sent a message ahead. The fact that Ozpin had been ready to see them so soon was unnerving to say the least.
By the time they stepped out of the elevator and into Ozpin's office, Jaune was pretty sure that he had lost a few years of his life from stress alone. Silently, the trio walked up to Ozpin's desk, where the Headmaster sat silently, reclining in his chair.
"Please, take a seat," he offered, and Jaune silently obliged as the professors took seats to either side of the Headmaster's desk. With a small cough, Ozpin adjusted his glasses up, and turned slightly to glance at a screen. "I have been informed by Professor Port that you engaged in a serious breach of academic conduct by submitting falsified transcripts to our academy. Is this true?"
"Yes, sir." His voice barely squeaked out.
"Judging by the contents of the professor's message, you already realize the serious ramifications of your actions," Ozpin further stated, turning his gaze back to Jaune over the rim of his spectacles. "In the time since being informed, I have taken it upon myself to look up an accurate copy of your transcript from Signal."
Ozpin grabbed a couple of sheets of paper, and passed them to the two professors, who read them in silence. "Tell me, Professor Goodwitch, what do you think of this transcript?"
Goodwitch spoke first. "Sub-qualifying marks in combat tests. Sub-qualifying marks in history. Qualifying marks in every other category. No exceptional marks."
Even though she said it impassively, Jaune couldn't help but feel cut by the professor's words. It was strange to hear yourself being reduced to a set of letters and grades. His breath caught as she continued speaking. "Judging by this transcript, Mr. Arc narrowly missed qualifying for the academy."
"Thank you, Professor," Ozpin said quietly, turning to look at Professor Port. "And your thoughts?"
Port was silent for a long moment, his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought as he regarded the paper, occasionally glancing up at Jaune. "I'd concur with Professor Goodwitch's assessment. However, I would like to add a few personal comments."
Ozpin inclined his head.
"I was good friends with Mr. Arc's parents in school, and they struck me as morally upright individuals with a strong sense of honour. And as I mentioned in my message, Mr. Arc was the one to come to me. Not the other way around."
"After you had expressed familiarity with his parents," Ozpin pointed out. Not sharply or even judgingly… but not exactly warm and friendly either. His voice had never wavered from its levelled—almost monotonous—tone.
Jaune bit his tongue, holding back the urge to speak. He wanted to say he would have confessed without that fact...but he couldn't help but wonder. Sure, he'd been considering it before then, but the second Port had talked about his parents, he knew there was no hope. Would I still have confessed? He wanted to believe so.
"I am not discounting that, sir," Port agreed with a nod of his head. "What stuck out to me was how he insisted that his team should not be punished for his actions."
"That was never a concern," Ozpin said, almost cooly, before turning back to Goodwitch. "What are your thoughts?"
Jaune's eyes glanced nervously to Goodwitch, who adjusted her glasses with a slight narrowing of her eyes. "I don't have Port's personal attachment, in this case," she said in her clipped voice. "Nor do I know much about Mr. Arc. However...I can say that his team and team WARP are rather close, and that he elected to keep Ms. Valkyrie and Mr. Lie on the same team."
Jaune thought he saw a flicker of something on Ozpin's face when Weiss' team was mentioned, but it passed too quickly to identify. Ozpin nodded his thanks, and reclined once more, closing his eyes in thought.
"It would seem to me that Mr. Arc made a mistake urged by decent motivations, and once he realized the mistake, he confessed," Ozpin thought aloud, before sitting forward, his expression hardening. "Do you have anything to add, Mr. Arc?"
Jaune swallowed. A thousand thoughts raced through his head, but none of them would come out right. Finally, he clenched his sweaty palms and said hollowly, "No sir. I apologize for the trouble I've caused."
Ozpin nodded slightly. "Be that as it may, we cannot simply ignore your actions. There is a precedent to be established here."
"If I may, sir," Port commented, hesitantly, and Ozpin nodded his permission. "Both Professor Goodwitch and I noted that Mr. Arc was only barely below qualifications for Beacon. Were he to apply himself in a training course, I feel he could meet benchmarks…"
"I see what you are suggesting. Professor Goodwitch, your opinion?"
"While I am loath to bend the rules, I would agree with Professor Port's assessment," Goodwitch sighed.
"Wait, sorry, I'm lost. What's going on?" Jaune asked, then instantly regretted when all three sets of eyes fixed on him. Ozpin smiled slightly as he spoke.
"Consider this hypothetical scenario: a student barely falls below qualifications, but attends a course designed to train them to meet those qualifications. Once the student meets those qualifications, they should be allowed access, or so it follows," Ozpin explained. "Professor Port was suggesting that, since you could likely make up the deficit through study, Beacon would act as that training course."
"But wait...I thought-"
"It wouldn't be a free ride," Ozpin interrupted, holding up a hand. "Beacon receives a number of students from different backgrounds, and we understand that not everyone has the same education. As a result, it is permissible for some students to be under qualification in some fields, but they are put on an academic plan to get them up to speed. It's rigorous and stringent. If they fail to show improvement in their weak fields, their tenure here may be terminated prematurely. Under this plan, you would be subject to regular tests to determine your performance in addition to everything else expected of you as a student."
"But...I'd get to stay here?" Jaune asked tentatively, unable to help sitting up a little. It was almost too good to be true. Part of him was sinisterly reminding him that he still didn't belong here, but he wanted to belong here. If that meant working harder than anyone with his feet to the fire, he'd take those chances. "What about my parents?"
"Your parents will be told of your presence here. After all, they are likely wondering what is happening. However, they will be informed to not speak of the agreement until we reach a conclusion. As for your tenure here, you'd stay provisionally. If by the semester's end you demonstrate that you are at the level of other students, the provisional period will end, and you will have full admission," Ozpin explained.
"But...why?"
"Despite our strict policies, Beacon is ultimately about helping Huntsmen," Professor Goodwitch explained, and Jaune was surprised to see her expression had softened. "Many people who pursue the Huntsman career come from disaffected backgrounds, and we understand that. A candidate who demonstrates the proper mindset and drive to improve can be selected despite some failings."
Jaune was speechless. Part of him felt like he was being dangled over the edge, and any second they would let go and let him fall. But the offer seemed genuine…
Ozpin's smile was narrow as he spoke. "If you accept this offer, Professors Goodwitch, Port, and Oobleck will be responsible for various aspects of monitoring your progress, and ensuring you are in compliance with policy. So, Mr. Arc, do you accept?"
