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C'mon FanFiction, you're killing me over here!

I've never, in all my days, have had a first chapter so well received before.

So, gee, thanks a lot, guys. No pressure?

[Feels pressure.]

Memories and Migraines

Jaune woke up and was met immediately with a splitting headache of epic proportions. 'Ugh, what happened last night?' His joints popped as he stretched to get the blood flowing back into his extremities, 'I feel like I slept on a ro- wait...'

But it wasn't a rock nor was it his bed he had slept in. In fact, it wasn't even a bed at all; it was a couch, and not the one JNPR had in their room. Where the heck was he?!

"Good morning, Wolves' Bane."

Startled, Jaune's head snapped left in the direction of the voice only to be confused further, "Uh..." It looked like he was in Ozpin's office for some reason with said man currently sitting at his desk, ever-present cup-o-joe in hand. What in Remnant was he doing sleeping in the headmaster's office? Was he in trouble? He hadn't the foggiest. "Uuuh," the blonde boy reiterated oh so articulately.

"I would suggest getting to class; we wouldn't want to rouse suspicion," the headmaster went on, not at all noticing the highly befuddled looks the young man was throwing his way. He was too busy reading something on his scroll.

Rouse suspicion? The what? Anyway, he wasn't about to stick around to find out if he really was in trouble; so, gingerly, Jaune stood and tiptoed his way towards the elevator.

"Oh, and, Wolves' Bane-"

Jaune whipped his head back again, and it did not escape him how weird yet so natural it felt that he respond to such a moniker in the first place. 'Wolves' Bane?'

"Remember what we discussed: I will allow you to aid your team, as well as your wife's, but in a manner that would not alter the course of coming events. I know you don't agree with the plan for the time being, but I also do not need to remind you that we could only be as prepared as to the accuracy of your predictions. We can not risk your actions changing things too much. That said, keep it low key, would you?"

There was a long empty pause where Jaune wasn't sure if he should say anything to fill it in or not. 'I mean, what do I even say to that?!' Was he still asleep, or half-asleep even? Was he dreaming? Yes, he must've fallen asleep in one of Port's classes again. Yeah, that's it. That would explain a lot of the craziness at least.

Then, seemingly out of the blue, "You're not going out dressed like that are you?" Ozpin commented albeit lazily, brow raised as he eyed him up and down over his scroll.

Huh? Going out like what? Jaune looked down at himself and saw the tattered coat draped over gear that was most definitely on his person. What was he wearing and how sloshed was he last night?! The fact that he didn't even drink went unremembered.

To answer the first question, however, in more detail: it was a rusty, old suit of—he wanted to say "armour" but it looked way too fancy—metal. However, rusty and old it may have been, it did not make a sound when he moved. There were no dead spots either as each plate folded within each other seamlessly, allowing for maximum protection without sacrificing stealth and mobility. A heavy, dark-brown, leather, trench coat so worn that it had lost its sheen covered most of the metal bits except for where a full set of pauldron, gauntlet, bracer, and arm-guard protected his shield arm. It was cool, it was efficient, it was unfamiliar.

Finally, to top it all off sat a red hood and cape he wore on his shoulders, not unlike a scarf. Compared to the armour, the flimsy piece of fabric was, in fact, familiar, so much so that it shocked him to be with it in the first place.

He knew very well that it did not belong to him.

"There's a spare uniform in the closet to your right." Ozpin's distracted drone snapped Jaune out of his stupor. "Leave your equipment here for now and I will see them to your locker. Get changed and get to class."

~ • ~

'Definitely a weird start to a weird day.'

And Jaune wasn't just talking about the waking up at Ozpin's, the weird wardrobe, or even the weapons he'd found underneath the tattered coat he'd been wearing. No, it was the overall feeling of restlessness; the feeling of "must" that was bothering him the most. But "must" what? He could not say. All he knew was that it was like that feeling he'd get whenever he knew he'd forgotten to do something important—'like homework.'

The description sucked, to say the least. Jaune tried again.

It was like an instinct, he guessed, for lack of a better word. Like with the weapons earlier: finding one Stormflower and Gambol Shroud minus its sheath holstered to his hips, Ember Celica on his right arm, and Crescent Rose slung over his back (he didn't even need to see to know that the shape pressing up against him that time had been Crescent Rose and yet Jaune knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that it was Ruby's beloved scythe), Jaune knew that he shouldn't have had his friends' weapons on him—in fact, he ought to return them later—but... something told him that, no, they were where they must be.

With him.

Un-equipping them earlier made the feeling even worse, like ripping off pieces of himself. Jaune knew it made no sense. How could he feel that way with weapons that didn't even belong to him? But now, walking with only his school uniform for protection; the "familiar" weight of his armaments absent in his every step... Jaune felt naked.

...And the hood, he couldn't even comprehend the feeling of loss when he took it off.

The "must" feeling hung off him like a heavy robe that kept his shoulders tense and muscles taught. But what did it matter? 'What am I so worked up about anyway? I'm at school! It's not like something's just gonna pop out and-'

"Jaune-y boy!"

There was a blur of movement he would later go on to realize was himself, and the next thing he knew, he had Cardin Winchester pinned by the neck against a wall. Breath suddenly ragged, Jaune blinked a couple of times before it registered what he was doing.

"Ack! Get off me, loser!"

Jaune backed away with a start. What did he just-? He looked at his hands and saw them shaking. What was happening to him?

"You've got a lot of nerve there, blondie," rubbing the sore spot on his throat, Cardin growled as he righted himself.

Around him, Carden's lackeys squared themselves for a fight. His instincts told him that he could take them all on... easily, but the larger part of him that governed self-preservation and bodily wellness told him to run instead. So he did. 'Stupid instincts! You're going to get me in trouble!' What was he even thinking attacking Cardin like that? Did he have a death wish?!

The headache that had accompanied him since that morning did not help with an answer nor did it lend itself any small amount of focus that, when he entered professor Goodwitch's class, he didn't even notice the room going deathly quiet.

~ • ~

Ruby let out a "Hngh!" and Yang immediately knew why.

There he was, the dead man. The deadest dead man to have ever walked into a room alive.

Who did he think he is waltzing in as if nothing's happened? The slightest tint of red began to eclipse her irises as Yang's blood rolled into a boil.

"Hey guys," he greeted them tiredly as he slumped into the seat right freakin' next to Ruby. Propping his head off the table with both hands, "Hey, Rubes," he dared to talk to her sweet sister. "Uuugh, ow. You won't believe the morning I just had."

This- this- this GUY! He had a looot of balls talking to the girl he basically molested last night. Did he not see how uncomfortable he was making her poor, poor Rubaby?! 'Ohohohooo! I bet he thinks he's such hot stuff. But n-n-n-n-NO! This ends right now!'

"Hey, you. Off." It was said in such a deadpan way that no one could have guessed at the simmering beauty that lay beneath her golden curls.

"Bwuh?"

"Off. Sit over there."

"But I..." Jaune looked around to check if he was in the right spot and faced Yang again once he confirmed that he, indeed, was. "I always sit here. This is my sea-"

"—Yeah, well, now it's my seat, so, off!" Her temper rose.

"Yang-" Her dear, sweet, innocent, little sister tried to calm her down—because, of course, she would; she was an angel like that—but Yang wasn't having it.

"—I said: OFF, Vomit Boy!"

"Okay! Okay! Sheesh! I'm going. Ugh, my head..." Jaune grumbled as he left to sit with his team.

Yang gave a nod of approval before taking the recently vacated seat so that Ruby was squashed between her and Blake. Never taking her eyes off her fellow blonde, her glare stayed until he was well over the other aisle. "Hmpf!"

She was going to make good on her promise yesterday, and that's a fact.

~ • ~

Pyrrha saw her partner approach and the relief she felt could plainly be seen on the lines of her face. He hadn't even sat down yet when she bombarded him with concern, "Jaune, where have you been? You didn't come home last night. What happened? Are you okay?"

"Ow- ow, Pyrrha, not so loud."

"O-Oh, sorry. Does your head hurt? Do you want an aspirin?"

"Do you have an aspirin?"

She blushed in embarrassment, "Oh, uh... no, sorry."

"Then I don't need it." He smiled at her indulgently despite the obvious pain he was in. She would have smiled too if she weren't so worried about her leader... and what happened last night.

She didn't even realize how she began to frown at the reminder.

"Jaune..." She let his name hang, trusting him to know what she wanted to know.

"Pyrrha," he replied instead, tiredly mumbling her name into his arms he'd had his face buried under.

"Jaune," She said again but sounding more stern.

"Pyrr." Same tone but a sigh instead.

"Jaaauune!"

"Tsk-ugh, look, I don't know, Pyrrha," Jaune finally gave up. "The last thing I remember from last night was going to bed and then, this morning, waking up in Ozpin's office."

Wait. He didn't remember anything from last night? Did that mean him and Ruby- that they weren't- a-and he hadn't- hold on. Ozpin's office? "Ozpin's o-" she wasn't able to finish asking when their professor entered the room.

She strutted straight to the middle of the practice arena, and, without much preamble, declared in a voice that brokered no contest, "Jaune Arc."

Pyrrha (and the entire class) looked to her partner, fearing for him and the reason why the professor was calling him out not a minute after walking into class. Was Jaune in trouble? Was that why he was at Ozpin's office? Were he and Ruby seeing each other? (She hadn't really meant to ask that last one, but the crush she knew she harboured for the boy demanded it.)

"Step onto the arena if you please."

Jaune hesitated before doing what he was told, but Pyrrha saw the way he winced and wobbled at the mere act of standing up. Concern flared within the girl, "Um, professor Goodwitch," she stood, "I don't think Jaune is feeling very well, perhaps someone else could-"

"—If I wanted your opinion, miss Nikos, I would have asked for it, and I did not."

Snickers sounded from somewhere behind her, but she couldn't care less. Pyrrha sat back down, but not before shooting her partner another worried glance. What was she supposed to do? She couldn't very well insist that her partner sit this one out, not to Goodwitch who looked like she'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning

A soon as Jaune reached the bottom step, Goodwitch called out again, "Yang Xiao Long, please accompany mister Arc. We would be doing duels today."

Pyrrha and her other two teammates took in a breath.

At the mention of her name, Pyrrha's head swivelled over her shoulder to see the surprised look on the aforementioned blonde's face before a wicked grin took its place. Though she was, it didn't take a genius to know what the brawler had planned for Jaune, not after the... incident that had transpired last night.

The trepidation she'd felt earlier could only grow. She would not say it to his face, but Pyrrha (and the entire class, really) knew that Jaune wasn't the best of fighters. To be faced with someone like Yang, angry or not, it did not bode well for him. Her hands wrung themselves around her wrists when she heard Ruby try (emphasis on "try") to order Yang to go easy on Jaune. To wit, she replied, "Don't worry, Rubes, I won't hurt'm... much."

She had to do something.

"P-Professor Goodwitch," the woman raised her brow at her as if daring Pyrrha to speak against her a second time. She dared, albeit not sounding confident that she was, "I would like to volunteer to be Jaune's opponent."

She tried not to show the relief she felt when it looked like the professor was actually considering replacing Yang with her.

"Very well."

Relief. The breath she'd been holding released in an explosive sigh, "Thank you, Professor Goo-"

"—Pyrrha and Yang against Jaune Arc. Please step onto the arena, miss Nikos."

Pyrrha recoiled in horror, "What?! N-No, I meant that-"

The rest of the objection was cut off by the sound of Goodwitch's crop slapping against the palm of her hand, "Don't make me ask a second time, miss Nikos. Onto the arena."

Why was she being like this? Professor Goodwitch was strict but never cruel! To pit both her and Yang against an obviously weaker and inexperienced opponent, what exactly was her teacher hoping to accomplish?

Her classmates' stares of anticipation, and the glare of their combat instructor pushed her to stand and walk towards where Jaune and Yang were, each step deliberately slow and dragged.

"The fight is until the opponent's aura falls into the red zone. Anything short of a killing blow is allowed. Any questions?" There were none, but not for the lack of it. "Excellent. Equip yourselves and take your positions. Fight well because, trust me," her eyes looked pointedly at the redheaded girl, "I'd know if you're not."

Pyrrha's hands shook, but not because she was afraid. Though not one to boast, she was arguably the most skilled in their class; what reason could she have to fear?

No, she was conflicted. She liked the boy and wanted to be good friends with him. Beating him up felt like a gross step in the other direction of that endeavour.

"BEGIN!"

The shout shook her out of her stupor and instantly her training took over. Pyrrha's eyes tracked her opponent without her meaning to; without her wanting to. She bit her lip so hard she was surprised that she did not draw blood.

"I've been looking for an excuse to kick your ass, Arc. Lucky that it's you and me today, ey?"

If Yang was hoping for a reaction, then she was sorely disappointed, because all that got from Jaune was a shake of the head and a groan of pain for his troubles.

He really didn't look all that well; no, not at all, "Jaune-"

"Ragh!"

Shock made Pyrrha's eyes widen when her temporary teammate suddenly lunged forward. Her hand reached out to pull her back when she remembered that they were supposed to be on the same team. She faltered.

Pyrrha thoughts warred within herself distracting her from the fight, but then there was a sound, and she heard everybody gasp. 'What happened?' She asked, not paying attention, conflicted as she was.

First, she noted Yang on the floor, shaky arms trying to push herself up off the ground. Then her eyes lifted towards her leader, him recovering from the action of having his shield shouldered forward.

What happened?

She looked to his face for the answer, but the only expression there was one in the throws of a monster headache. Eyes squinting before clenching shut, she thought that he would collapse.

That was until he didn't.

It was the strangest thing when he opened his eyes again, fluttering as if getting used to the light even though they've been standing in the room for quite some time now. He forced one last blink, and his gaze noticeably sharpened, an intense clarity seeming to darken his baby-blues and turning them a smokey cobalt.

His head turned slowly to the left then to his right, taking in the scene before him as if he'd only just realized where he was and what was going on. Then a focus unlike anything Pyrrha had ever seen on Jaune, settled over him like the faintest of silks. It was in the way his shoulders squared themselves; the way his breathing seemed to slow; the way he gripped his sword just a little bit tighter. All minute details, but, to Pyrrha's trained eye, were quite glaring.

Suddenly it felt like it wasn't Jaune that stood before her, instead, someone she recognized as an opponent; someone confident with his blade; confident in his skill; confident of the outcome of the oncoming confrontation.

Jaune Arc, last of all Beacon, looked confident he could win- that he would win.

Her body tingled in anticipation of a good fight. 'But… Jaune?' Her thoughts reminded her, refusing to make the connection between what her eyes were seeing and what her gut was telling her.

When his gaze finally settled on the champion, her body tensed immediately, snapping low into a fighting stance; her instincts recognizing a very real threat for once.

But, again... Jaune? How? How could that be?

Though jarring the change in her friend had been, it was not what made her take a cautious step back. Why she hesitated, and what really made her think twice was when, after taking stock of her, he too readied himself, taking on a very familiar stance. Her stance. The Myrmidon...

Her father's favourite form and the very same one she was using now. Pyrrha didn't think her eyes could grow any wider.

Was- Was he mimicking her?

Looking closer, she realized that, no, his was... more disciplined. Where she favoured a looser variant of the Myrmidon that allowed for a much speedier offence, his was more—how to put it—militarized. He kept his core tight; his shield ever-present; his sword arm hidden from view at all times with just the tip of his blade resting on the crest of his bulwark... just how her mentor had taught her.

A sort of fear that was more respect than trepidation took hold of her limbs, because after all, she never did quite best her father, him being a champion himself.

"Lucky shot." Yang groaned as she was finally able to get on her feet.

"Yang," She called out, "good, you're up. I'll keep him busy while you circle around. Flank him." Was she actually strategizing? Strategizing against Jaune? Even Yang looked honestly confused.

"What? Flank? Nobody's got time for that! Just sit tight, P-money; I got this."

"Wait, Yang, no!"

This time, her protests weren't because she was worried of what Yang might do to Jaune, but what Jaune might do to Yang. And if that wasn't a table-turner for the books, she didn't know what was.

"Hyah!"

Pyrrha's eyes almost popped out of her skull when she witnessed her supposedly less skilled team leader flow through Yang's opening flurry like water through a babbling brook. Moving just enough so that her blows either missed or glanced off his shield, it sapped her punches of its power; minimal and brutally efficient, it was downright beautiful.

Where Yang poured out her strength in buckets, Jaune barely spared a drop. Soon his opponent would tire, and Pyrrha knew exactly what would happen once she did, having been on the receiving end of such a tactic herself countless of times.

"Hold still!"

Yang's left hook went wide, overextending herself over Jaune's shoulder and leaving her entire left flank completely exposed. Jaune chambered his blade preparing to thrust with his hip, but before he could stab Yang in the liver, Miló was there to intercept.

The force drove Jaune's blade down, but instead of letting it hit the floor, he used the momentum to swing it back around to rest the sword tip delicately on his shield once again; Myrmidon ready quicker than an instant.

'Yes, very military.' Pyrrha put her sword out towards Yang, dissuading her from launching yet another fruitless offence, "We can win; we just need to work together."

"Work together against Vomit Boy? You've got to be joking!"

Hard eyes flicked a chastising look towards Yang but only for a moment, not daring to take her eyes off her opponent even for a second, "Well this Vomit Boy looks like he's running circles around you. Perhaps adopting a different strategy would be wise?" Pyrrha did not mean to be sarcastic, but, for once, she was nervous. The feeling was… foreign; people would understand if she felt a little bit snarky.

Yang at least had calmed down enough to actually look at Jaune and see that he wasn't even winded! She relented, "Grrr... fine."

"Excellent. So, flank, any objections?"

Instead of answering Yang began to circle around the right of Jaune. She did the same to his left.

Having two enemies on either side of him, Jaune had no choice but to face who he thought was the bigger threat. For some reason, it flattered her immensely when her leader turned towards her. "So, Jaune, I see you've been training," she tried casually but never allowing herself to lower her guard, "You've improved quite a lot! I just knew you would be great."

For the briefest of moments, the hardness in Jaune's eyes seemed to flicker out, "Thanks, Pyrr! Y'know me, I try-" before another pained expression stopped him mid-sentence and the hardness returned.

The concern that had been replaced by survival instinct revealed itself again when she noticed the change in expression more clearly, being closer to him this time. "Jaune, what's wro-"

~ • ~

Capitalizing on the distraction, Yang barrelled into the knight intent on bringing the fight to the ground where her superior strength would give her the advantage. She settled her full weight on his stomach, and, with her powerful thighs, kept her prey from wriggling free. "Gotcha, bitch!"

She brought her fists up ready for a full-on ground-and-pound, but just before she could, the jerk brought his shield up just in time to block her first punch. Frustrations bubbled as her fist rang against the metal and sent painful vibrations up her arm. It hurt but nothing her aura couldn't handle. Just to spare her the inconvenience, though, she deployed Ember Celica to support her knuckles and tried again.

She was relentless, blow after blow, one punch followed by the next, she did not stop. His shield might've been tough, but the lump underneath it sure wasn't. It was with this thought in mind that kept her pounding him into the floor. One particularly vicious strike drew a strained groan from his lips that delighted her in ways that even she was too prude to admit. She grinned confidently, taking it as a sign that her opponent was just about ready to give up, so instead of raining down yet another punch, Yang grabbed his shield intending to rip it off of his arm.

That had been a mistake.

When her fingers grasped the edges and pulled, she did not expect the shield to come hurtling towards her with such a speed that it caught her in the chin. Her head rocked back; her body slumped forward, and, even in her daze, felt Jaune buck his hips into her, giving him just enough room to squirm his legs between him and his shield.

With an almighty push, he used his shield to send her flying up and over him to the other side of the arena. She hit the mats with a loud thump.

But if he thought that that was enough to take her down, then he had another thing co-

Her head lifted groggily just in time to witness Pyrrha Nikos go down. Pyrrha. Freakin'. Nikos.

And she did not get back up.

~ • ~

Pyrrha blinked once and then blinked twice. What- what just happened? She didn't know. No, she did know, just... couldn't comprehend it. Was she just- She was. She really was.

She was... defeated.

Her own sounding groan was her confirmation.

"Ungf- [gasp] d-hah..." Jaune's left arm clutched her head gently against his shoulder while his right kept her own blade firmly planted in her abdomen. Pyrrha let out a breathless moan into Jaune's neck as she was thoroughly undone.

It happened so fast. Her coup de grâce all but guaranteed as Jaune was still just getting up from Yang taking him down, and then the next she knew, she couldn't move; her blade twisted from her grasp and rammed into a weak spot in her perfect defence she never even knew existed.

Well, they wouldn't be calling her the "Invincible Girl" anymore after this. It should have made her furious; her agent surely would be once she'd heard her prize cow had lost. Oddly enough, however, she felt relieved instead—like a weight she hadn't realized she'd been carrying for so long lifted.

He stepped back carefully letting her full weight settle on him. The mat was warm and comforting when he kneeled to lay her carefully down. She still couldn't move but her head was tilted so she could see Yang in the background of Jaune's legs as he got up and settled again into the perfect form of the Myrmidon. Jaune turned to face the last combatant, and, even in her paralyzed state, Pyrrha could see the hesitation in the blonde girl's eyes.

Good. Yang as well as everyone in the room was beginning to realize what she had known all along: that anyone could be beaten, even her. The knowledge that it was Jaune that felled her, it just made the fondness she had for the boy grow even stronger.

Unconsciousness never felt so welcome.

~ • ~

'What... the hell... was that?' Yang thought.

"What the hell was that?!" Someone in the crowd thought to shout the very same question over the pallor that suddenly gripped the entire room. Just then she realized how quiet it had become when earlier everyone had been frenzied. It did not help with her nerves.

They'd been expecting a massacre, and it really was, just that they'd expected her doing the massacring. 'Well, you and me both, everybody.' She didn't even know what was going on anymore. Pyrrha had to have been pulling her punches, right? She'd never actually sparred with the girl before, but still, Yang knew she was no slouch. No way was she ever losing to Jaune, at least, not intentionally. Right?

Right?

He took a step forward, and she, in turn, took one back. As if rebuking her for giving ground like that, his eyes narrowed at her, and she couldn't even work up the anger to feel indignant at that. What the hell?

"You lack strategy."

His tone—or was it his voice? Was it just her or did it change? Puberty? Huh.—His voice, as if teaching a particularly dim child, made her foot catch. She righted herself before she could stumble, and though no one could really hear them from the bottom of the arena, everybody saw her falter. "What?"

He carried on sounding like he was the professor and not Goodwitch, "You know you're stronger than me and faster too. You think that that is enough and so brute force your way to beat me. That might work on Grimm, but you're not exactly fighting Grimm right now, are you?"

The sides of her nose curled into a snarl.

"No, you're fighting me, a person; someone who thinks, and weighs, and adapts."

"I've beat up people before."

"Not one like me, you haven't," as if to demonstrate, he lowered his shield just enough that not only his eyes showed, but his nose and lips as well, which were thinned into a tight line. "There. I've given you an opening. How will you take it?"

"Feeling a bit cocky are we, Jaune?"

He didn't even bother with banter anymore; instead, he kept his gaze steady, unnerving her with its unyielding focus. And that in itself was telling. This didn't feel like a duel anymore.

It was a lesson. How to piss off Yang 101. Class is in session, ladies and gentlemen.

'Cocky bastard.' That upset her enough into action, "I'll show you how I'll take it!

But again, he flowed around her as if he knew every move she'd make before she even made them; every punch, 'Damn it,' kick, 'Damn it!' and shot from Ember Celica yielding the same results. "Damn it, hold still!" Yang didn't want to admit it, but the revelation that she might—'might'—just be a little—'little'—outclassed here began slowly creeping in.

Knowing it was Jaune only made her movements more desperate. Sloppy.

What was the deal with this guy anyway? Did he find someone to train him on the side or something? Was Pyrrha training him? No, that couldn't be; Pyrrha was knocked the frigg out. No way would someone she trained beat Pyrrha.

"FOCUS!"

She suddenly felt Jaune kick her knee out from under her making her buckle to a kneel. The move was then followed by his shield arm mercilessly grabbing the back of her hair while Jaune kept the tip of his sword hovering over her left eye.

"What are you doing?!" He demanded.

What the heck did he even sound so angry for? He was the one kicking her ass!

"It only takes one—one—second, one mistake, one moment where you're not paying attention and you die! This isn't a game, Yang!"

"Screw... urgh- you..." Yang ground out through his grip. She saw the anger in his eyes when he shoved her away and could scarcely understand why.

"Again."

'This guy, I'm really starting to hate this guy. Pretentious piece of-' After gathering herself, she put her hands up again, looking very winded. 'Why doesn't he just finish me off and be done with it?!'

He surprised her when he dropped his sword, soon followed by his shield. The gasps she heard all around her told her that she hadn't been the only one.

"Hands up close to the body; Keep your shoulders loose and your feet light. Basics, Yang, remember your basics," he said while adapting the same stance Yang was.

Was he patronizing her? Yang's teeth grit and her gums began to ache.

"And stop that! You're letting your emotions get to you. Anger without direction is effort without purpose."

"What the heck does that even mean?!"

He grinned appreciatively when he saw that, even though he knew she hated it, she listened to him anyway, adjusting her stance to his instruction. "I don't know; you tell me."

~ • ~

'After all, you're the one who taught me that.'

Taught him what? Where were these thoughts coming from? Yang never taught him anything; they were barely even friends!

If that were true, however, then what were all these memories then? Of them fighting side by side, of laughter, of pain, of mutual loss, what were all those? He'd known her for the longest time. They were more than just friends, they were family...

Yang? Family? 'Ugh!'

Again Jaune's head throbbed painfully, but he did not waver, oddly enough. Instead, his body carried on headless of the pain. It was as if he were on autopilot and his mind was just along for the ride. That- No, that description was wrong too, he guessed, or at least, incomplete.

Him taking a back seat entailed a lack of control where, here, it wasn't the case. Every action he took against Yang was still a conscious thought; it was just that disconnect, however, where he was expecting himself to fail only to succeed that put his mind ill at ease. And somewhere between those two things was the question: where did Jaune end and this "Wolves' Bane" begin?

Who exactly had he become?

Was he still Jaune Arc the awkward boy who'd faked his way into Beacon; the dead-last that had something to prove?

Still that same bundle of insecurities; still the one who worried about not being a good enough; still the one so afraid of dragging his friends down; still the doubter of whether he'd ever amount to anything worthwhile; was he still all his insecurities?

Or...

Was he Wolves' Bane, the last huntsman? Someone who knew war; fought in it; died in it. The man who knew all his friends in such precious detail that it betrayed the short amount of time he'd spent with them just this semester in Beacon.

All these memories, the old and the new, the now and have yet to be, were they his or were they his?

It was that question that divided as well as made him whole; tore him apart, but at the same time, stitched him back together again. Again and again until all that's left is someone he could barely recognize.

Jaune, hunter in training, and Wolves' Bane the thousand slayer: two halves of the same coin.

What that meant for him, Jaune did not know.

But one thing he did know, however, was that the longer his fight with Yang dragged on the more upset he became seeing her do so brazenly. It was because he knew her recklessness would cost her an arm one day, and her life the next.

Wolf provided the memory, but it was Jaune who decided to do something about it. Because after all...

Yang was family.

"Feints, Yang. Not everything has to be an attack," he said or heard himself say.

"Shut UP!

"You're still leading with your shoulder; anyone with half a brain would see that coming! Hide your moves."

"You teaching me how to punch, Vomit Boy?!"

"No, Firecracker, I'm teaching you how to think."

"Don't call me that!"

She had always been stronger and faster. In a fight with anyone else, those two things ought to have been enough. But against someone who she practically trained herself in hand to hand combat, it didn't matter. He knew all her tricks and even the ones she hadn't even thought of yet. Older Yang, his Yang, had been more level headed, a thinker, and a Yang who thought before she acted was more frightening than an angry one.

Jaune ducked under a left jab and punch-checked her right hook. He ducked under her guard and, as he passed, let two vicious strikes connect with her liver and exposed ribs.

"Ugh!" She went down on one knee yet again, stubborn to the end.

He straightened himself, "Never let your emotions get to you. It should be you using them, not the other way around."

"[Cough] You sound like my dad."

Jaune let out a soft chuckle to himself, 'Probably because he taught you then you taught me.'

"YOU CAN DO IT, JAUNE!"

You can do it, Jaune!

Jaune staggered at the memory of her voice, "Coo- ugh… Ruby...?"

His head swivelled, searching in the direction where he'd heard her shout, and, even though she was in a crowd, it did not take long for Jaune's eyes to find Ruby's unique, stormy grey ones. Seeing her, immediately, his joints locked up and his muscles refused to move. Jaune's pupils dilated, and the drums in his head pounded more fiercely. This time he just couldn't take it, and it was that moment of hesitation that allowed Yang to get in a solid hit on him right in the stomach. The sound of her gauntlet discharging could be heard throughout the whole classroom despite it being muted by his body against her fist.

~ • ~

"Booyah..." Yang whispered victoriously. That was until he unexpectedly crumpled forwards, "Woah! Hey, what's the big idea?! Umf-" She pulled her fist back intending to knock him off of her but was shocked when she felt something wet coating her knuckles. "W-What the...?"

She was forced to catch him when his legs suddenly gave out, and she laid him down on his back. That's when she saw it. Horror slowly etched itself onto her face as a huge stain began to paint his hoodie a darker shade.

He... didn't have his aura on this whole time...?

"Why?! Why, didn't you activate your aura?!"

There was no answer, and Yang began to panic.

"P-Professor Goodw-!" the scared teen stuttered but needn't have for her teacher was there before she could even utter her name.

"There, there, miss Xiao Long. Allow me; I'll take him to the infirmary."

"H-He didn't have his aura on. I-I thought that- that he-"

"Do not worry. This isn't your fault; it is mine. You need not explain yourself. But if you would kindly hand over mister Arc to me that I might take him to the infirmary?" She repeated.

She was too worried she'd actually killed someone to feel any sort of relief from that, "N-No, I'll take him; just point me where." She insisted, then maybe some of the guilt she was feeling would lessen. He hated the guy, sure, but that didn't mean she wanted to straight up kill him!

Glynda studied her for a moment before standing up, "Very well. And could someone also help miss Nikos as well, please? It wouldn't do for her to be on the floor like that."

"I'll do it!" Ruby volunteered so fast that she beat the other two of team JNPR by a handspan.

Glynda nodded at her sister. "The rest of you will stay here and watch the feeds of the previous fight." Just then, screens lit up where the tables faced the arena, "Maybe you'll learn a thing or two."

Yang would have groaned at that, having the rest of the class watch her get her butt whooped for the rest of the period, but she could already feel Jaune's blood on her arms where she had placed them underneath him bridal style. It was warm and it sickened her. That warmth was supposed to remain inside the body, not-

She cut herself off before she could barf.

"This way. Quick steps, ladies. Quick steps now."

Past corners and a handful of corridors, they were intercepted by the headmaster just as they'd arrived outside the infirmary. "Ozpin-"

"—Yes, I heard, Glynda. I would speak with you in my office, but first get mister Arc inside, if you would," calmly, he told her.

The professor nodded and went to take the injured boy when Yang reflexively pulled him back to herself. She hesitated, feeling that she should be the one to see JNPR's leader to safety. A glare from the teacher told her how stupid that idea was. She was the teacher, the adult; meanwhile, she'd been the impulsive teenager who almost got one of her sister's friends killed. He was safer with Goodwitch.

"Thank you." Taking Jaune, Glynda bade them farewell.

A resounding thud was heard when the door to the infirmary shut behind the teacher. The two sisters were quick to follow, but Ozpin stopped them, "I believe you two still have class?"

"Yeah, b-but- I just wanna-"

"This wasn't your fault, miss Long; you need not feel guilty." When she still looked like she would object, he continued, "Mister Arc will be just fine. Trust me." He even smiled.

Despite the reassurance, Yang's eyes still flickered towards the doors to the infirmary, then to Ozpin, then back at the doors again and staying there.

With a shake of his head, the headmaster grabbed her shoulders and turned her away, giving her a gentle shove for good measure. "Go on, miss Long. He'll be out and about before you know it."

With one last worried glance over her shoulder, Yang's steps were slow when she began her trek back to class. Clearly, she'd been shaken by the ordeal.

"Oh, and wash off before you do," Ozpin called out to her.

She kept on walking as if in a daze.

~ • ~

The headmaster heard her grunt under the weight of her classmate and finally noticed that her older sister hadn't been the only one carrying someone unconscious.

"Oh, Miss Rose. Here allow me."

"N-No! I can do it."

Ozpin's eyes narrowed at her in suspicion, "But I insist."

"Please, Headmaster. I want to do it." She made sure to give him an extra dose of her patented puppy dog pout to secure her passage, and it looked like that not even the headmaster was immune to its charms.

"Hm, very well."

She tried and failed not to sound too happy about that, "Thank you, sir!" Adjusting Pyrrha in her arms, she took a step only for a hand to stop her when it laid gently on her shoulder.

"Only to place miss Nikos on a bed, miss Rose. Do not dawdle. I want you in and out and back to class quickly. Understood?"

She gulped. "Y-Yes, sir."

He released her and it took a lot for Ruby not to use her semblance just to get away, but she was in the infirmary soon enough and laying Pyrrha down on one of the mattresses there. She didn't leave immediately though as Ozpin instructed.

She was worried, worried for her friend.

Ruby crept up as quietly as she could from behind the nurses that were clamouring the next bed over. "Jaune..." she whispered. Ruby desperately wanted to see if her fellow leader was okay, but the many bodies of the medical staff kept blocking her view. She got up on her tippy-tiptoes just to peek over their shoulders but to no avail.

If she were paying attention, however, she needn't have worried because the commotion that surrounded Beacon's resident knight was not one of rush or panic, but of confusion. If she were paying attention, she would have also noticed the shadow that loomed over her.

One of the nurses went to get one of them weird dohickeys that doctors used and she almost caught a glimpse of him. Of course, that was when, again, a hand landed on her shoulder, and she startled, letting out an undignified squeak. "Professor Ozpin! Hi! I was just- uhhh-"

"—Getting to class."

The glacial tone in which he used to finish her sentence persuaded her to simply agree and not make up any more excuses; not that he'd believe her anyway even if she tried. "Right... hehe. Yeah, that." She still tried to get one last look before she was led away, but the headmaster made sure to keep himself between her and her friend. She made a sound of hesitation before finally relenting.

When the doors shut behind her and they were back in the hall, Ozpin spoke, "Please do understand, miss Rose; I don't think mister Arc would appreciate anyone seeing him in such a state."

"Yeah, but-"

"—I know that you are worried, but I meant what I said to your sister. We've seen worse incidents than this. Jaune is in good hands, trust me."

"O-Okay… You're right," Ruby agreed but not after a decent pause that showed just how much it grated at her. Turning to leave, she stopped midway, "When can I see him?"

Ozpin raised a brow, "At the earliest?"

She nodded.

"Tomorrow perhaps, but that needn't be your concern right now. Right now, your concern is getting back to class. Now scoot!"

She took his jovial tone well enough with a nod and smile that did not quite reach her eyes before dashing away. She didn't see Ozpin's lips thin into a line before turning and going back inside the infirmary.

~ • ~

Living with a hot-headed, blond bomber; a broody, goth woman; and... well, Ruby, it really took a lot to surprise Weiss nowadays. Despite the short time she had spent with her team, she'd been somewhat desensitised to anything that ranked any lower on the weirdness scale than bunk-beds made of rope and a small library's worth of smutty books.

But seeing Jaune's fight, the least she could say was that it had been an eye-opener. Was she that conceited or was the duel just that much of a surprise? Looking around herself at everyone who had their attentions focused on the screens, she was relieved to know that it was most likely the latter.

"Who would have thought that he'd be that good?" She heard Blake whisper.

"I am quite surprised as well," she whispered back. "Do you think someone has been training him?"

"No. That kind of skill isn't exactly something you could learn over the weekends."

As if to prove her point, the clip of Jaune's fight played the part where he had expertly twisted Pyrrha's weapon out of her hand and then, using her own momentum, stabbed it into the champion's stomach so fast and with such precision that it lowered her aura from 100 percent straight down to 18 in a second. The crowed "oofed" with the blow.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Honestly, I'm not all that sure myself. Based on what we've been watching for—what?—the third time now (Weiss could still scarcely believe how the fight only lasted a poultry 3 minutes and 22 seconds), it leads me to believe that Jaune's either been training—and, well, again," Blake gestured towards the screen where Jaune was soundly beating the short-shorts off of Yang in hand to hand combat. Hand to hand! That was Yang's chosen form of engagement! Even if he'd trained every day since initiation, he couldn't have gotten good enough to pull that off, none of them would!

"Or it's the alternative," her teammate trailed off.

"Which is?" Weiss almost hesitated to ask.

"That he's been hiding his skills and is already a full-fledged huntsman or something."

The thought was just too ridiculous for the heiress. The dead-last a huntsman their age? "Surely not. I mean, he's a noodle! If he's a huntsman, should he not have—oh, I don't know—the physique for it? Just look at him!"

She said just in time to see Jaune knock Yang down with a solid shield bash to the face, not at all aiding her argument any. Again the crowd went "Ooo" coupled with hisses as breaths were dragged through teeth, her peers empathising with her pain.

"I am looking. Do you want to know what I see?"

"Tell me."

"I see years and years of discipline, mastery through repetition, and confidence through countless opposition."

"Okay, a bit dramatic, but aren't you giving him just a little bit too much credit?"

"No. Not enough if you ask me." Blake then turned to look pointedly at Weiss, "I look at him and I see experience—way more than he ought to have."

Weiss turned towards her as well, incredulous to say the least, "But how-"

A raised hand kept the heiress from asking, "Don't ask me how. As I've said, I'm not sure. I could be wrong," Weiss sensed a but in there somewhere and was right, "but I've been around people like him before. He reminds me of a soldier. All soldiers I've known have eyes like that."

At that, Weiss could not help but focus more on Jaune's blue orbs, and she had to admit, they were rather lovely, all dark-blue and icey when he glared- Weiss shook her head before she could entertain the thought; she was pretty sure that that wasn't what Blake meant by eyes. She looked again, closer this time, and noticed how they almost seemed dull despite being in the middle of a fight. "Eyes?" Weiss asked for clarification.

"Tired eyes," Blake explained, and she was right; they did look just a tad bit too tired. And it was not the crammed-all-night-with-a-can-of-Grimm-bull-energy-drink tired; no, it was the kind of tired that said that he had seen too much. Done too much.

But how could Jaune have eyes like that? He was only seventeen and so carefree before. Weiss just couldn't wrap her head around the possibility.

"I guess the real question here is why's he hiding?"

The question? She hadn't even gotten to that part yet, still trying to understand how Jaune was able to beat two competent fighters at the same time. But that really was the question, wasn't it? If he really was that strong, then why hide?

Ruby taking a seat beside her stopped the heiress from pondering the thought further.

"Ruby, where's Yang?" She placed a hand on the younger girl's shoulder. Ruby's sister came in just as she was asking the question. She noted that parts of Yang's clothes were wet and her arms were red as if scrubbed raw. A haunted look dominated her teammate's expression.

Ren and Nora came over to where they sat, clearly eager for news on the missing half of their team. "So how's our fearless leader?" Nora was first to ask, and though she tried not to look too worried, she was anything but.

It was Ruby who answered because, clearly, Yang was still in shock and she couldn't blame the girl, "He's going to be fine... or at least, that's what Ozpin says." Her leader did not look too sure.

"The headmaster?" Weiss tilted her head.

"Yeah."

"Well, if boss man Ozpin's with him, then I'm sure Jaune will be A-Oka-"

"—He shouldn't even be there!" The venom in Yang's vehement hiss put a stop to Nora's exuberance.

"Yang...-" her sister whispered.

Yang repeated, "—He shouldn't even be there."

"What do you mean?" Nora asked, for once not being the loud one.

"That- That idiot had his aura down..."

Confusion swept over their entire group. It was Weiss who posed the question, "Are you telling me that Jaune fought you and Pyrrha to a standstill using no Aura? Yang, that's-"

"I'm telling the truth!" Hysteria threatened to raise her voice louder than a harsh whisper.

"Are you sure you didn't just-"

Yang cut Ren off with an overwrought chain of disjointed chuckles before he could finish asking, "I barely laid a finger on him! Look," she pointed at the screens that were still playing their fight earlier, "Do you see that?! You think I could have brought his aura down enough to do that kind of damage? We all know how huge Jaune's aura is and I barely nicked him! He should've been fine! He should've-" she stopped before she lost herself to the panic.

Nora held the distraught woman's hands that were clutched together so tight that the skin of her knuckles paled against the bone underneath. "It wasn't your fault," she said, "Maybe… Maybe Jaune just forgot?" The red-head looked around to see if anyone else thought so.

No one else thought so.

Nora could not be blamed at how flimsy the suggestion sounded at best. And no one could even comment on it because, quite honestly, what other reason could there be, at least to their knowledge?

Still, if that were true, then that only proved Blake's theory further, because who else could hold of without aura a champion fighter and a fierce brawler if not a seasoned huntsman?

"I'm worried about Jaune," Ruby said with a deep frown marring her young face, catching everyone's attention.

"That goes without saying," she agreed.

"No, I don't mean just Jaune getting hurt, Weiss. Something's going on with him, something- something bad, and I want to know what it is."

"Yeah!" Nora heartily agreed, "Yesterday, it was Ruby's extra juicy, hot and spicy kiss," her leader made a choking noise, "then today it was the fight, and now this? Forgetting to aura-up?! You're right, Ruby, something is definitely going on with your man."

"N-Nora?! He's not my- We're not like that!"

"You mean: together, but not: together-together?"

"Yeah! I-I mean no. I mean- what does that even mean?!"

Ruby and Nora's nonsense aside, it looked like she and Blake weren't the only ones who thought that something was wrong with the picture. 'Who are you, Jaune Arc?' Weiss furthered the trail of the discussion, "Do you know when we'd be allowed to visit?"

"Tomorrow," Ruby mumbled, still red in the face.

"Tomorrow then, we'll ask him."

Everyone nodded in agreement. "But maybe let him rest first before we do. He did just get shot in the stomach." Yang groaned at Ren's reminder and hid her face in the palms of her hands.

~ • ~

"What on Remnant were you thinking, Glynda?! I told you to pit him against Winchester, not the champion and the eldest of Taiyang!"

Glynda had never heard Ozpin sound so upset before. Annoyed, yes, a number of times, but angry- furious even? That she had never witnessed. "I'm sorry, it's just- last night, you trusted him so quickly. You have to understand, a student walks in knowing things he shouldn't know, saying things that should have been secret, I think it was only right that I be suspicious. That's why I-"

"—If you wanted to make sure of his authenticity, then maybe you ought to ask me first on how." Ozpin then made to wrap her hand around the scroll he was giving her. She rose a brow at it in question.

"That is mister Arc's scroll," when it looked like that hadn't been enough to clarify why he was giving it to her, he continued, "his future scroll. That device contains all of the data he managed to collect during his tenure as the last living huntsman in all of Remnant."

Her eyes widened at the unfathomable fact.

"Future battle lines; the cities' military size, strength, and movement; experimental technology and weapons schematics; a recorded chronicle of the coming war; even news headlines, recordings, and pictures; all information we need to fight against the Grimm, and he gave it to us willingly and without hesitation."

She already knew the answer, but still had to ask, "How sure are we about this information?"

"Very. The things you'll find in there, are far too personal to be doctored."

"Personal?"

"It is mister Arc's scroll after all. Information there we could actually use is limited, derived from mister Arc's personal logs. Though I doubt he expected to be pulled back into the past that he'd thought that that sort of data was worth keeping handy. However limited it may be, it still shows us a window of things to come."

Glynda stared at the unassuming piece of hardware and offhandedly recognized it being the Beacon standard-issue ones handed out to first years. "So he really is from the future," she mumbled. Ozpin nodded. "And we… lost?"

He nodded again, "That's why I trust him. A man who has lost everything has nothing to hide. As of yesterday, mister Arc effectively became the most valuable asset Remnant has ever hoped to have when he came forward with this, our ace in the hole."

"And I just showed everyone our hand," Goodwitch looked up as the weight of her mistake became apparent.

"Hardly." Ozpin went to sit back at his desk, stirring yet another cup of coffee while doing so. "Though I still do not agree with what you did, it's hardly showing 'everyone' our hand. As far as everyone is concerned, all it was is just another match between students. Given it was a rather shocking one, it's nothing our enemies would find reason to suspect. I already took the liberty of purging the feeds of Jaune's fight. Unless any of your pupils thought to record it on their scrolls then it should be fine."

"They didn't. Their scrolls are confiscated upon entering the arena. It wouldn't do for future hunters to have their skills recorded and broadcasted to those who might seek to exploit them."

Of course, Ozpin already knew this; it was protocol. That was why he was so calm. "But do be more careful next time, Glynda. That man might very well be the one person to turn the tide in our favour- in Remnant's favour. His presence should be kept to the utmost secrecy."

"Students will still talk," Glynda rose the concern.

"Let them. It will be old news in a couple of days. Just carry on as you were, and everyone would forget sooner or later. As for mister Arc and what follows after the arena, however, having him stay a student would only invite more unwanted attention."

"What do you plan to do with him?" she could only ask.

He replied only with a sip of his coffee.

~ The Next Day ~

"He's gone! H-He's not there. He's just… gone!"

"Woah there, little sis! Who? Who's gone?"

Ruby paused to catch her breath, and when she did, she exclaimed.

"Jaune!"

Don't get used to this. I don't usually update so quickly (and in the same week, no less). I just thought I owed everyone for the support. So here ya go! Paid in full.

Now on to a matter more related to the story. Honestly, I'm quite surprised not more of you made a big deal out of it. Sooooo, 15-year-old Ruby x something-something-old Jaune, thoughts?

[Gasp!] For shame, guys, for shame! I didn't realise that I was catering to a bunch of pedos!

But kidding aside, I think that the controversy surrounding the topic is more the fault of the premise rather than of the pairing or story itself. Time travel, it raises a lot of thoughts and concerns no matter how you spin it.

And I, as the author, it is my job to take into account said thoughts and concerns. And I have. I didn't just hop into a fighter jet and radioed-in to command, "[Krshk] Time travels? Lay's dew dis..." No, I knew exactly what sort of crap I was stepping into before I stepped into said crap... ew.

At the same time, me being the author, I don't want to spoil it for everyone by just blurting out how I will be dealing with this. Just know that I chose time travel for one of these specific reasons. The age gap dilemma will not go ignored. It will not be swept under the rug; we're classier than that. No, son, we use vacuums.

I kid of course.

The keyword here is conflict. And this, my friends, is one such example. Just give me some room, trust me, it'll work. I mean, just look at twilight...

[Shivers] You know what? I change my mind. You might be onto something there.

Til next time, TTFN, tata for now!