Author's Notes:
This is awkward. Hi, guys – yes, it's me, your eyes do not deceive you. This is in fact an A/N written by the author of Under the Wing. Kept you waiting, huh? Of course, there were reasons for this but excuses be damned; I managed to write up two chapters in advance so I'm posting this one.
Last chapter we saw Qrow for the entire thing. I could have made a few more allusions clearer but where's the fun in that? We get back to Jaune's daily life at Beacon and we should be moving through the storyline – albeit with a few alterations that I have mapped out later on.
I'm looking back on my style of writing, and I'm noticing that it's quite descriptive most of the time. Sometimes, I feel as though it may get in the way of the dialogue, but I'm interested in seeing how you lot feel about it – seeing as you're the ones reading it. Is it extra? Does it pad out the story or leave its pacing in the gutter?
You tell me.
Anyhow, let's get into the chapter.
Light entered the slight gap between his eyelids, causing them to flutter.
Blinking once, twice, three times – Jaune put the back of his hand onto his forehead and allowed the early morning atmosphere to drag him out of his beautiful, peaceful, ignorant rest. Being conditioned to wake up so early was a pain sometimes, but a necessary one. Every hour counted. Every minute mattered. Every second costed a life.
With a soft breath, the drowsy teen sighed as he removed his hands from his face and brought them to the side of his bed. He could already feel the tiredness slipping, but Jaune also knew that the irritability of the sheer fact it was so early would not.
The teen allowed himself to stand from his bed, the barest of audible noise making itself known. It was still pretty early morning – around six, if Jaune's internal clock was anything to be trusted – and it wouldn't do to wake up an entire room filled with girls. As the blond bent down to pick off the duvet that he rolled underneath his bedframe, the time it took him to make his bed permitted him some idle thinking.
Could he talk about that really quick? He was sharing a dormitory room with three girls. This was crazy. Beacon was crazy. That Professor Ozpin was crazy. Was Jaune crazy for thinking so? At this point, it wouldn't surprise him if the answer was yes. Maybe, against all odds, this was completely normal and he was reading way too far into it.
Yeah, right. At times, Jaune could have sometimes been seen as naïve, but this was anything but normal. Again, maybe normal for Beacon standards – but who was to say that Beacon standards equated to the standards of the outside world? Smoothing out the last crinkle of his cover, Jaune laughed at the obvious answer.
Beacon was different to the outside world. Very much so.
Jaune pulled himself from beneath the roof of Blake's bunkbed above his own – having finished with his work. Scratching his blond locks slightly, the teen backed away from last night's resting place. Right, bunkbeds, that happened.
Hands finding their way into his hips, blue eyes admired the newly-named Team RASB's very own dorm room. Near his and Blake's side of the room… well, there were a lot of books. Jaune's head inclined behind him, letting his gaze wander the multitude of shelves and study desks piled with literature.
Lots of books, indeed.
There were so many damn books, their own bunkbed was supported by the weight of a couple dozen at the top of each leg. Jaune would have normally been terrified at the concept of sleeping under something that looked so unstable, however, those books were unnaturally sturdy.
He gave the thick hardbacks a solid shake, letting the motion go completely unnoticed by the numerous texts stacked onto one another. It was almost like the paper and wood had fused together in a mystical and unnerving reuniting of material – processed paper returning to its more natural form with the wooden bedframe.
Honestly, Jaune would gladly admit that a Goliath would fly before that gave way to any sort of weight.
A quick glance to Ruby and Weiss' part of the room revealed that they had also decorated their side with a variety of personal items. Weiss hung up one or two artistic pieces, while Ruby had her bed draped with a cloth – covering the many plushies of stuffed animals she brought with her.
Personal items, huh?
Dragging his gaze to his bedside, Jaune walked over and laid hands on the only personal item he had with him in their room. Crocea Mors. Picking the sheathed blade up with both hands, he held it horizontally and slowly ran a lazy hand across the shining steel – admiring it. Even when asleep, you still love to show off, don't you?
Jaune shook his head with an amused chuckle, letting his right hand hold Crocea Mors at his side while he made his way into the bathroom. Talking to weapons, who did he think he was? It's not like had ever talked back before… unless that time was his imagination, of course. But Crocea Mors, no matter how beautiful a blade, was still just a regular, old object. Right?
Water was run over his groggy face, letting it wash away the thought. A quick glance at the reflective surface as he closed the top revealed his face – obviously – drenched, a few bangs of his hair heavier with the clear liquid. Jaune's eyes were a deep sapphire, hazed slightly, and without an obvious glint to their colour.
So they were the same. Reaching over to the rail next to the sink, the blond ran the towel against his face roughly and, smoothing out his hair the best he could, exited the bathroom with no more hassle – picking up Crocea Mors along the way.
Was it weird that he brought his sword into the bathroom with him? No, he didn't really think so. In front of his specific wardrobe, Jaune shrugged away the notion, reminiscing everything that he went through in the months he got to properly use the Arc legacy blade as he rummaged through the unimpressive assortment of clothes he had piled inside.
Within the closet, a folded pile of clothes lay under a singular glimmering earring in the shape of a crooked cross put neatly on tip.
"There you are…" Jaune whispered quietly to himself, the words coming out barely above his breath.
Grabbing the earring and wrapping a hand around his trusty hoodie, Jaune's head turned behind him to see the others still fast asleep. A silent breath of relief as the free hand laid Crocea Mors against the wood of the wardrobe and grabbing at the hem of his Pumpkin Pete's T-shirt and took it off in a quick motion.
The blond shivered at the newfound sensation of cold air against his skin, he slipped on the hoodie – letting its warm embrace soothe him. Soon after, Jaune fastened the metal accessory onto his earlobe to seal the deal.
Yes, he kept a different T-shirt inside of his hoodie. No, it wasn't weird. Again, you would understand if you were in his shoes. Though, in all fairness, the reasons why he was so picky with how he wore his hoodie were mostly just personal preference.
Still didn't detract from the fact it was important to him. Some people had standards.
Another quick look behind him before Jaune slid into his combat trousers, trying his hardest not to make any noise and be caught in a potentially volatile situation with any of the people he shared a room with. Gods forbid what could have happened if they caught him with his pants down.
Literally.
Jaune folded his clothes, making a mental note to find where he should dump his laundry and placed them into the wooden contraption before creeping out of the door and shutting it with a quiet click and beep of the electronic lock. He breathed out, exasperated and finally safe, despite being a quarter of an hour into his real first day into Beacon.
"If it's going to be like that every morning, I have no idea if I'm going to be able to keep going…"
The exhausted teen took a gaze down the long hallway resting outside RASB's dorm room. Interestingly enough, it also rested just outside Team PYRN's dorm room too; the door to their literally opposite theirs. A literal dragon lying in rest just outside his new home away from home away from home.
Jaune secretly hoped she forgot about what happened yesterday… what with the whole throwing her into a Deathstalker thing.
Speaking of yesterday, he really had to thank Nora for the surprise she pulled on everyone. Following their subsequent victories, the group of teens came to the eventual realisation that the only pair to actually retrieve a relic were him and Blake. Bullheads came to pick up the teens, making them unable to go back to the ruins to look for relics that may or may not have even been there.
On the flight back to Beacon, Ruby exploded out of nowhere – jumping from her seat, "Guys! Me and Weiss didn't get a relic!"
The girl's partner seemed disinterested for a moment. "Weiss and I," she corrected absentmindedly a second before her eyes widened like plates. Her head shot up and slowly scanned her gaze left and right, "…Me and Ruby don't have a relic."
"Now that you mention it," Yang added from the bench opposite to him, "Neither did me and Pyrrha…" She uncrossed her arms as an expression of light fear blew across her face.
Pyrrha's voice sounded like a cat trying to die in the most elegant way possible, "Does this mean we fail Initiation? After everything we went through?"
With great effort, Jaune shot a look to Blake, who shut her eyes and shook her head lightly in response – as if to say she wasn't sure. Or that it was probably best not to address it. At that, the group of hopeful teens let the demoralising silence fill the gap of sound; most of their heads dropping to think about the future.
Though, there was one person in particular who didn't seem so downtrodden about the whole ordeal. She was vibrating viciously, like a wind-up toy that was raring to go. It took the calming hand of Ren to communicate to her.
"Nora," he said softly, "why don't you just tell them all now?"
"Because then it wouldn't be a surprise, Ren! Duh!" At her words, the six other teens turned to look at the duo with a mix of inquisitive, curious and suspicious gazes.
"Well, it seems as though it isn't going to be a surprise for much longer." Ren's gaze met each of the others with an apologetic smile, the hand on Nora's shoulder shaking her softly as he spoke, "My apologies, everyone, it seems as though Nora has something to tell you all."
It seemed as though the only one brave enough to ask was Ruby, her voice both hopeful and confident at the same time, "Well, what is it, Nora?"
Digging around her skirt-pocket, the ginger-haired girl took center stage as she presented two chess pieces – yellow or white in colour. With vigour, she held them high for all to see; a yellow rook and a white knight. "Ta-dahhh!"
The only other blonde in the bullhead eyed them in awe, "Are those-"
"-The relics?" Pyrrha finished off her partner's line of thought.
"Uh-huh," Nora confirmed, moving one to each hand, "I got a cute-looking horsey and another castle for me to rule over. Or at least one that I would have ruled over if somebody didn't tell me that I had to share." She glared intensely at the rose-eyed boy who took the brunt of her stare with little to no effect.
"That would be against the rules, Nora," he reasoned.
Pouting, the only stood girl in the airborne bullhead mumbled, "Since when did queens have to share?"
Weiss managed to point out amidst the general shock of the other members of their ragtag group of teens, "Isn't taking more than one relic against the rules anyway?"
"Well," Yang stood as well, giving Weiss a grin as she made her way in front of Nora, "I, for one, don't remember Professor Ozpin telling us anything about that." She swiped a hand to grab one of the relics, only for it to be taken out of her reach with a resounding `yoink` from Nora. Trying again and again, the blonde failed again and again, looking to the giggling ginger with confusion dancing across her face, "Uh…"
"Come on, Yang, you can't just take one!"
"…Why not?" The larger girl questioned, one hand coming up to her scalp to itch something.
Nora closed her fists and moved them behind her back, over-exaggerating the movement of her arms as she began to swap their positions. "Because then it wouldn't be fun!"
Lilac eyes drifted to Ren, who was looking at the predicament with general indifference. "Is she always like this?"
Ren's eyes came to a close as he let a tired sigh escape from his lips, "You come to get used to it."
Once again, Nora held out her two hands – but each one was now balled into a fist to conceal what relic they held within her pink-gloved fingers. "There!" Reaching out once more, Yang was denied the chance to choose one. Red flashed across her eyes for split-second before Nora scolded, "So pushy. Just because of that, I'm going to let someone else choose first. Oh, Jauney~!"
Jaune, now in sight of the heat-seeking Nora, refused to address her verbally, instead inching his body as far away as he could from the approaching girl. Nora, thankfully, took the hint – going so far as to ask, "Huh? What's wrong, Jaune? Ursa got your tongue?" Less thankfully, Nora didn't stop her approach, her presence in front of the blond imminent.
In response, Jaune shook his head rapidly and immediately regretting the action as his head began to spin. Blake decided to take the wheel, not taking notice of her partner's plight. "Actually, Nora," she informed, "we already have our relic."
An 'O' shape formed around the ginger's lips as she morphed it back into a smile with a nod, "Oh… well, that means there's enough for all of us, then! Ain't that right, Jaune?" Nora nudged the boy with her elbow, somehow squeezing in-between himself and Blake to do so.
Somewhere behind the hyperactive girl, Ruby scratched her head as she whispered behind her hand to Weiss, "Was she just going to let one of the teams fail, then?"
That did it. There was no holding back. The nudge pushed him over the edge. Gods forgive him; they cannot say that he didn't try. "Uh, Jaune? You're looking a little green there, guy," Nora noted before the inevitable storm came.
A storm of vomit.
It came out like a waterfall. A waterfall of green and yellow. Though, having not eaten much for a few hours – maybe it would smell better? Jaune didn't really know, for all he knew it could smell ten times worse; everything spewing out of his mouth could have been pure acid and bile. A jet stream splashed against Nora's outfit – it being the prime target for his deadly assault.
Looking back on it, it definitely wasn't the time for jokes. The bullhead struggled to keep a steady course as Nora's screams rocked the very core of everyone man's soul in a dozen mile radius.
Snapping himself out of the slight daydream, Jaune equally hoped that Nora forgot about everything that happened yesterday. With the whole… vomit thing. Then again, it was Nora. She may as well have forgotten everything that transpired before going to bed in the evening.
In any case, Jaune thought that he had better stop thinking about the past and start acting in the present, or he feared he might have gone on a mental tangent.
Croce Mors tucked into the regular belt around his trousers – due to the lack of magnetic arm bracers, Jaune realised he was well on his way down the long halls of the dormitory. Did he daydream? It didn't matter that much, he thought. At least now, had time to appreciate the art and décor draped along the walls.
Beautiful landscapes of the mountainous regions of Vale that Jaune dreaded the thought of going near. Artistic depictions of Forever Fall – obviously, the people who made that didn't know how much of a hellhole that place actually was – and even a painting of the City in the Clouds, Atlas. Wasn't this supposed to be full of stuff from their kingdom?
He didn't get to think too much of it before he came across a noticeably bright corridor, much more so than the one he was currently walking.
Light began to flood his vision. Natural light from the morning sun. Jaune noticed it, shielding his eyes slightly as he turned to look outside. And what a grand sight it was. Even further down the hallway, the sides were implanted with window after window – letting the scenery of Beacon's courtyard and the distant silhouette of Vale proper fill its glassy frame. In and of itself, the view would have been enough, but the rising sun really did add to the glorious terrain.
Jaune stopped walking, fully turning to face out of the window closest to him and took a single step forward to get a better look. The grass of Beacon's courtyard looked welcoming, stable and comfortable – the perfect place to take Crocea Mors for a few swings. Maybe go for a quick jog.
It took a second of contemplation, but the teen eventually came to a light scoff – pushing himself away from the transparent barrier.
Training? This early in the morning? Hah. What kind of cliché was that? Jaune was thanking the high heavens that there was no hungover instructor barking commands at him at five in the morning. He could afford to take a break every once in a while. That's what he was hoping at least.
"Ah, Mister Arc. Enjoying the view, I presume?" The new voice cut through the air with unnatural ease, Jaune's head being drawn towards the origin almost magnetically. Making to speak, move – or really – do anything other than just stand there, the teen failed all of his own expectations, much to the other man's amusement. "Do not fret, Mister Arc. I may come off as imposing to some, but I can promise you that I don't bite."
"R-right. Sorry. Sir." Jaune really was making himself seem like a mess, wasn't he? In front of such a figure, no less. He had to calm down, and fast.
It was none other than the headmaster of Beacon Academy stood facing him, Professor Ozpin. And, like last time, the feeling of his Aura washed over Jaune subconsciously with no other distractions to take away the undeniable presence in the air. Attempting to make himself seem more presentable, Jaune pivoted on his heel and stood up straight, arms by his side – stiff and rigid.
Chucking, Ozpin tapped his cane on the wooden floor, smiling good-naturedly, "Come now, no need for such formality. I'm hardly a military officer, Mister Arc – I do not expect to tell my students to be at ease when in my presence."
Jaune widened his eyes, body tensing before forcing every muscle in his body to relax. Interestingly enough, doing so was held much more difficulty than when he was straining himself seconds prior. "Right, sorry… Headmaster? Ozpin. Professor Ozpin? I'll stop."
Taking his student's bumbling in stride, Ozpin nodded, tapping his cane once more as he turned to look outside the window nearest to him. "Hmm, yes, perhaps that would be for the best. But it is quite a sight, no? A grand city that houses millions that depend on us – the future generation of huntsmen and huntresses – to keep them safe." A void of silence. "A noble duty, to be sure."
Another glance to the window once more revealed to Jaune the silhouette of Vale proper in the distance, way past the school's harbor and surrounded by rolling hills with giant mountains looming from afar. It was a sight, no doubt about it. But Ozpin sure knew how to lay it on thick.
Millions and millions counting on him. Responsible for so many people? A duty… "Yeah, a noble duty."
Unnoticed by Jaune, Ozpin gave a side-glance to the boy; his hazel eyes conveyed nothing more than a simple observation. He hummed, "Enough about that, then. How are you finding your teams? I think that you'll share my view in thinking this year definitely has its characters."
Glad for the topic change, Jaune felt a semblance of relaxation come over him. Laughing nervously, he tried to keep his hands still as he answered – not wanting to rub the back of his head. "`Characters` is definitely one way to describe them… but, yeah. I think I'm happy with my team. Ruby's definitely fun to be around, and I like to think that Weiss is warming up to me."
"I'm glad to hear it. However," Ozpin tilted his head, and Jaune only just noticed he was once again holding that mug he was almost never seen without. Raising an eyebrow, he spoke softly, "I can't help but point out that it seems as though you forgot about another member of your team. Namely, your own partner?"
And again, his body tensed and Jaune cursed. It was a subconscious decision, the mention of Blake slipping of his radar. He couldn't help but scratch the back of his neck as he chuckled, "Right, yeah. Blake. She's good too."
His speech was being unravelled by the silver-haired man's natural aura. It was most likely that Jaune would look back on this interaction and complain to himself about how much he messed it all up. And while he never was a social butterfly, it wasn't as though he couldn't speak to people.
There were only a few things across Remnant that could throw him off rhythm; a couple being Vul, cute girls, Coral and cats. As you could see, he could fit them onto a single hand. Though, it seemed as though he'd have to move onto the second in the near future. He was the fiddle and Ozpin was the maestro, or at least that was how it felt.
Jaune probably wasn't even registering it as a habit, but Ozpin hummed lightly yet another time – taking a step closer to Jaune so minimal that it was barely noticeable. "Is there nothing else bothering you, Mister Arc? Nothing at all?"
Ignoring the warm wrapping of green around his body, the teen answered truthfully, "No, not really." The question hung off of the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out. "Why?"
Giving a loose nod, the silver-haired headmaster took a slow sip from his mug before continuing, "You have no problem with the teams?"
"No, sir." Jaune thought he made it clear that the teams were, all-in-all, some of the best outcomes for him. He knew the members and felt as though he could earn their trust and work well with them.
"So you do not find it strange in the delegation of duty?"
Delegation of duty…? Jaune paused, brain churning to decipher the older man's words. It came together, and the teen had to appreciate how well-worded the headmaster was to address a position like that.
"If you mean if I disagree with Ruby being leader – no. I don't think it's that strange, sir. She deserves it." More so than him, at the very least. He mentioned as much during the ceremony yesterday. Ruby was the best choice to be team leader, Weiss may have had her ups but way too many downs and Blake?
Blake didn't seem the type to want to lead.
"How interesting," Ozpin muttered beneath his breath – so quiet that Jaune would have heard the birds singing outside the corridor before himself. "I see. Thank you, Mister Arc. I do hope you come to enjoy and learn something over the next four years. And I doubt this will be the last time we'll be seeing each other. Ta-ta."
Like that, the welcoming pressure around the blond faded; an invisible weight taken off of his back. Letting out a sigh he didn't know he was even holding, Jaune only snapped out of his trance as Ozpin's systematic tapping of his cane passed by him and into the corridor the boy had just walked from.
Mustering up the courage to look behind himself, Jaune noticed the man's stride was purposeful but relaxed – well-paced and bordering on the line of a march and a saunter. He spoke of this year having quite the assortment of characters. Jaune guessed it only made sense he was such a character himself.
Another rhythmic sound echoed across the hallway as yet another new figure began to stamp on the wood. Sharp and pointed sounds that came ever closer – a woman with blonde and wavy hair furiously tapping her fingers on the large scroll she held across her forearm.
Looking up from it, her emerald eyes looked over her glasses, coming up to Jaune. Her typing stopped and it was then that he recognised her – the secretary from yesterday. "Arc, was it? Mister Arc?" Jaune nodded dutifully. "You haven't happened to seen Professor Ozpin anywhere, have you? He's been missing from his office for the past two hours." She muttered something about piling up paperwork to the side.
Two hours? He was up and working at four in the morning? Jaune had heard of workaholics, but that just seemed over the line. "Uh, yeah," he answered - as he had only just had a one-sided conversation with the man not a minute earlier. Turning around, he pointed along the corridor, "He's just over… there."
The woman looked in the pointed direction before their eyes met again, albeit much more awkwardly. "Mister Arc, I appreciate your willingness to help, but lying to me isn't exactly the best way to show it."
"He was literally just there, I was-"
"Thank you, Mister Arc, but I think I'll take this into my own hands. Like always." She mumbled incoherently as she tapped one last thing into her scroll. Taking her wrist and flipping it over, she read the watch face on the underside. "By the way, I should remind your first class with Professor Port starts at nine and it is currently half past eight; please be on your way." Her eyes darted to his hip, the place where he was holstering Crocea Mors under his belt. "Furthermore, if you wish to carry around a weapon with you around Beacon – I ask that you send a request to the headmaster's office first and foremost."
An entire lecture in the span of half a minute. Jaune felt like he should have been impressed, this woman's sternness didn't fail to instil fear into his heart. Though, Ozpin didn't seem to mind that he was carrying a weapon with him… it didn't matter much; he'd comply with her request.
"Yes, ma'am."
She nodded, making her way down the path that Ozpin walked down a few minutes ago. Jaune shook his head, trying to recall something that the blonde woman said. `…it is currently half past eight…`
…
Hang on. Wait a second – though, Jaune guessed it was too late for that anyway. He had woken up at six, that was a fact. The blond's internal clock was conditioned that way. All he had done was talk to Ozpin and daydream, but that couldn't have cut close to an hour – let alone two.
A yell from around the corner behind him drew his attention back, "Miss Rose! No running in the halls!" It was the same blonde woman, he could tell – but as he turned around to investigate, he was met with a floating Ruby suspended in the air and surrounded in a purple glow.
Uselessly flailing, she moved her arms around wildly to convey something, "Ah, I'm so sorry! I just have to find Jaune or Weiss said she was gonna-" Silver met cerulean as all of her gestures came to a complete halt.
"Hi." Jaune waved lightly.
"Oh, hey, Jaune. Oof-!" The mystical light that radiated around her faded suddenly, leaving Ruby in a pile on the wooden floor. She moaned and grumbled, struggling to pick herself back up despite her unnatural energy.
"Don't let me catch you again, Miss Rose, or the punishment will be much sterner than a slap on the wrist." The voice called out from around the corner, the source invisible to Jaune.
What a scary secretary.
"Yes, ma'am…" Ruby waited on the floor, head craned in the direction the voice came from before she confirmed that it was no longer in line of sight. Standing herself up slowly, she kept her head fixated in the direction and tip-toed past the corner and towards Jaune. Once past it, she sped along once more in a burst of petals. "Jaune!"
The girl managed to bring herself from sixty to zero in a fraction of a second as she now stood in front of Jaune, leant forward and desperate. "That's me. What's wrong, Ruby?"
"You know classes start at nine, right?" He was made quite aware of that fact; yeah, he did. Nodding, Ruby continued, wiping a bead of imaginary sweat off of her brow. "Phew. Thank goodness. I mean, even if you didn't – I'm here now and probably would have told you, so it's not like you not knowing would have been a problem…" Trailing off, the smaller girl's head began to tilt to the side as she silently began to wonder something Jaune could only dream of knowing.
"…Yeah." Was his apt response. It fit the bill in most situations.
"So, anyway, Weiss told us all that we have to wear uniforms to class," she added. At the mention of them, Jaune's attention was dragged to Ruby's attire. Red chequered skirt, black and yellow trimmed blazer- all tied together with a neat bright ribbon. Even brighter, Jaune couldn't help but notice, was the scarlet cloak adamantly wrapped around the girl's neck.
It reminded him in what he was dressed in, namely the difference in atmosphere around their clothes. Hoodie and slacked combat-trousers? Didn't really scream professional in the classroom. Or maybe it did; this was Beacon, after all. He wouldn't dive into the semantics.
Jaune laid an un-gloved hand on the pommel of Crocea Mors. "I can see where this is going…"
"Weiss put your uniform on your bed for you so you shouldn't worry," Ruby said, silver eyes darting to where his hand rested. It looked like she wanted to ask – her mouth opened to say something before it clicked shut.
"I should get going… Weiss says she wants to be there early. We'll bring Blake with us, too." She made to turn around and moments before she sped off again, her head snapped back, "Oh, and could you please wake up Yang for me? Just, like, knock on her door or something because, knowing her, she's probably oversleeping. 'Kay, thanks, bye!"
Before he could have responded, he was left with a cloud of rose petals to talk to in Ruby's stead.
Wake up Yang? They said poking a lion with a stick was a bad idea, no matter the length of it. Obviously, these people have never tried poking a dragon before. This could only go one way.
Sighing, Jaune scratched his head – eyes grazing over the floating petals left in Ruby's wake. "I hope she doesn't get caught by that secretary lady again…"
/-/
So here Jaune stood, the only thing stood between his death and him was a thin slab of mechanised wood. Why exactly was he doing this again?
Right, right. Because Ruby asked.
He couldn't very well deny something his team leader ordered him to do, could he? After all, what kind of team player would he be if he were to go against a direct order? Not a very good one, that was for sure. Nice weather we were having, wasn't it?
Jaune wanted to make himself feel better, like he often did.
Finding the clothes promised laid out neatly on his bottom bunk, the blonde did his best to don the attire the best he could. A year wearing literally the same outfit day in, day out made it feel as though the suit that wrapped around his body was being repelled by some magnetic force. It didn't help he couldn't get his tie on, either; the dumb neck snake bundled in his right hand.
Jaune never bothered to learn how to actually wear one, his mother spoiled him so badly when it came to school – fussing over his appearance and if he was going to make friends or not. He wondered what she was doing right now for half a second, before bringing himself back to reality.
Like before, Crocea Mors sat nestled underneath his belt. He would get it checked out with Ozpin, like he was told to, though Jaune had hoped that nobody would have minded if he kept it on his person for a while longer before doing so.
Breathe in, breathe out. You got this, Jaune, this is your chance to make a clean slate. Reset everything with her. And that was under the impression she was even going to be the one answering the door.
A single hand – balled into a fast – came up to the door, knuckles bared against it. One rap, two. Two raps, three. How much did you want to bet Yang was going to break his knee? Chances were pretty high, but on the off-chance that she didn't – it was a good chance to try fix the obvious problems between them.
Silence. Jaune backed away from the door, happy with waiting for a response. The seconds began ticking and the teen was skeptical that anyone was even going to answer until the door gave a robotic beep and slowly creaked ajar.
He was afraid at first, the mere prospect of having to wake up Yang shaking him to his core; the two didn't have the best track record. And even out of likeliness, the ones that he thought would answer would be Nora, Ren then Pyrrha. Lo and behold, his luck was abysmal as always and it was none other than a messy blonde mane greeting him at the door.
Messing with the back of her head, Yang's eyes were lidded – one still fully closed – as she leant slightly onto the door frame. "Wha'?"
"Morning, Yang."
She yawned, the gesture exaggerated but genuine, "Yeah, morning…"
Well, that was a much better response then he could have ever hoped for. Perhaps because it was first thing in the morning, but Yang seemed quite tolerant of his presence – wanting to get whatever he wanted over with. The sentiment was shared.
Now or never, Jaune thought. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry," he said, inclining his head forward slightly in a rough approximation of a bow.
This sounded familiar. His head flashed back to his slightly awkward but much less potentially fatal conversation with Blake during Initiation – which, mind you, did come to a positive resolution. Here was to hoping this one would go the same.
With his head tilted forward, he couldn't see what Yang looked like. Though, he didn't need to for him to know how she felt. Aura worked like that. She was confused, "…Huh?"
Pressing onward, the boy continued, "I know that these past few days we've had our differences-" that sounded like an understatement, "-but I just want to make things right between us. I'm sorry for how I may have treated you and I hope you can forgive me."
He was laying it on pretty thick, though that was the point. In reality, Jaune didn't really think he did that much wrong, but to say so probably wasn't the best idea; the goal here was to reconciliation and not get beaten up later. Maybe lose the death glares, too.
"…" Yang didn't know what to say, it seemed. More of her weight was supported by the door frame as she crossed her arms and favoured one side over the other. Yet again, there was silence.
Did he have to go on? "I know that I'm on a team with your sister now, and I just want you to know-"
"Alright," she said – cutting him off. "Cut it out, will you? You're freaking me out with how polite you're being. Doesn't suit you," Yang muttered slightly, lilac eyes darting to the side.
Jaune raised his head, meeting the flat stare of the buxom blonde – who was clad in the same pajamas from pre-Initiation. Making effort not to linger on areas he shouldn't have, he opened his mouth to speak once more, only to have the chance taken away from him as the other spoke.
Her voice was, understandably, tired and their eyes only stayed in contact for a moment before Yang broke off to think about what she was saying. "What's in the past's the past," Yang stated. "If you want to leave it like that…" Eyelids were completely shut as she let out a sigh, "I guess that I'd be down to try if you're cool with it. And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry too."
Between them, she outstretched a slow hand – open and inviting. Jaune stared, making to take it after a second and cracked a nervous smile. "No worries." Yang was being surprisingly civil about the whole thing. Perhaps he misjudged her at first. Laughing lightly, he made small talk, feeling more at ease. "You know, for a second there, I was scared you were going to-"
You'd think he would have always expected the worse after everything he's been through. In truth, he had and just didn't want to think about it. These expectations became a reality; as soon as their fingers touched – he was pulled in face to face with Yang. She smelt like an undiscernible fruit, though Jaune didn't think that was the biggest of his concerns.
"But if you try pull anything weird with my sister, I will break your face. Got it?" Jaune nodded. Fast. It was enough to get Yang to stop, her tired demeanour taking over once again as she backed away into Team PYRN's dorm room. "Well, if that's all I'mma head back to bed, so…"
Despite everything, Jaune was able to prevent himself from peeing his pants. That tone of voice and that head of wild, messy, long hair with that look was enough to make him remember someone he did not want to remember any time soon. Just thinking about her made him want to crawl up into a ball and assume as many positions as a foetus could perform.
"About that…" the boy managed, remembering why he was here in the first place. "Ruby sent me here to tell you that classes start at nine, and its currently…" His eyes darted to the clock displayed on the digital lock outside the door. "Eight fifty-five."
"What?!"
Jaune flinched at the ramp up of volume. Behind the blonde, stirrings of the sheets revealed an elegant-looking Pyrrha, in spite of the fact she literally just woke up. He also thought that it should have been noted that Nora was still fast asleep. "Yang…? What's going on? Are you alright?"
Pyrrha's partner was quite clearly in a state of distress, unable to communicate coherently back to the redhead. "What do you mean `it's eight fifty-five`? We're going to be late! Gah! What am I going to wear? What should I do with my hair?" The questions came to a stop as Yang paused, red eyes stalking back to the open door.
"You…"
And that was his cue. In hindsight, probably should have told her earlier but this uniform was the Grimm's work to put on. "I'll see you guys at class. Bye!"
"Get back here right now, you-!" The door was shut on Yang's face before she could get any closer.
Letting out a breath, Jaune turned around and leant against the door – tie still gripped in his left hand and Crocea Mors still resting at his hip. Even like this, he was left with one resounding thought as he picked himself up and began walking to Beacon's main building.
That went much better than he thought it would.
/-/
"…And then I told her that I didn't have any lien on me, so she had to pay for it all!"
"Wow, dude, how could you do her dirty like that?"
"Yeah, even I wouldn't dream of doing anything like that."
"Come on, Cardin, you can't pull one over her like that."
Despite the three other boys' protests of their leader's actions, every single one of them laughed rambunctiously – slapping each other on the back and slugging each other on the arm. Even if they spoke out against him in that way, it's not like they really meant it. They were just having fun.
Cardin Winchester strode through Beacon's corridors without a care in the world. Why would he? It was the first day and people already knew who top dog was. Him. Scion to the proud Winchester family, leading his team with him at the head – marching towards their first lesson in a wide cluster of uniformed bodies. If they even planned on going to it, that is.
Because, let's be fair, everything was turning out Cardin.
Other first-year teams moved to the side at the sight of them; even some of the older years were giving them funny looks. Probably scared of the competition. One or two girls giggled as they walked by and Cardin couldn't blame them – Team CRDL was made of some of the best huntsman material of this generation. Nobody would ever dare even thinking of-
"Whoops! Sorry, comin' through." A scrawny looking figure stumbled past them, brushing past one of Cardin's teammates near the back of the huddle – Sky Lark – as he passed the team in a hurry.
Sky gave the guy a distasteful look, but was content at leaving it like that. That was a problem with him, Cardin came to realise. He was too soft in that way. Lucky for him, he had a Winchester to show him the importance of confidence and intimidation.
"Hey! Beanpole!" Cardin snarled, aimed at the ragged blond that thought he had the balls to just disrespect their space like that.
His target turned abruptly, a red tie around his neck in a tangle – completely random in direction and length. A confused stare was all he managed to get out; clearly this guy didn't know who he was dealing with.
"Cardin, man," Sky said, grabbing his shoulder lightly. "Just let it go, dude. It's fine."
Ripping his blazered arm from his teammates grasp, he turned and looked him dead in the eyes and whispering harshly, "No, it's not fine. You need to learn how to stand up for yourself, Sky. Just let me show you." Cardin's head whipped back forward with a smug grin on his face, aiming to show Sky exactly how to stand up for himself. "You think you can just shoulder-check one of my teammates and get off scot-free like that?"
The blond guy looked side to side, noticing that there was a small crowd gathering around their little display. This would be good for CRDL's image – the strongest first-year team of Beacon Academy. Hell, give it half a year and they would be the better than the older years.
His mouth opened and shut, like some sort of fish before he started speaking, fully turning around. "Nah, man, that's my bad. I'm real sorry." He put his hands up in a gesture of surrender and let Cardin take steps towards his helpless figure.
Getting a better look at the chump, Cardin was able to tell that he had a sword sheathed under his trouser belt and blazer – the hilt sticking out in the front. So he had a weapon on him? And he was still this cowardly?
Internally scoffing, the slightly bigger teen externally grabbed him by the scruff of his collar. It wasn't enough to lift him off of the ground – seeing as the two were near identical in height, but it was about sending a message. Cardin's message was, "Sorry? Sorry? Sorry doesn't cut it, pal." He heard Sky shout quietly for him to stop. Sometimes I wish he wasn't such a softie. Looks like this idiot gets lucky today. "But I guess if you apologised real nicely to my teammate, I could let it slide this once."
Blue eyes stared into his own, but something about them was off. It wasn't clear to Cardin, but it was almost as if they didn't seem to catch the light – in a way; hazy and cloudy. And he wore jewellery, the boy noticed as his eyes flickered to the cross-shaped earring. If those distant eyes didn't piss him off enough, then the accessory would have. It was so unnecessary and screamed `edgy`.
His father always taught him that those kinds of people were the worst kinds of people. After the faunus, of course.
For what felt like an entire minute, the brown-haired teen held the blond by his neck before he nodded once, "Yeah, I can do that."
"Get to it." Dropped by the white of his collar, the blond did as he said he would – making his way with purpose to Sky and bowing slightly as he said sorry.
Sky, the lightweight he was, accepted it with no hassle and told him not to worry about it too much. Russel and Dove eyed the scrawny guy warily, trying to intimidate him. Those two were quicker to catch on.
With his apology done, he walked back forward and past Cardin – bowing his head not to meet his eyes, which pissed off Cardin for whatever reason. As the small crowd began to disperse with a murmur, the rest of Team CRDL came up behind their leader as they lightly discussed what just happened.
"What a loser," Russel said, crossing his arms and staring at the back of the fading figure of the blonde. "Couldn't even stand up for himself."
"Yeah," Cardin noted, gaze drifting to a person in their group. "Reminds me of someone."
Sky grimaced a slight bit, giving each one of his teammates a look that told them he didn't want to talk about it. "Look, guys, let's just leave it at that. We didn't have to make such a big deal out of it. He just bumped into me."
"Come on, dude. If you aren't going to start defending yourself now, what's going to happen when you're up against something like an Ursa? Toughen up." With a pat on the shoulder, Dove encouraged his teammate – hints of pride and concern in his voice.
Nodding, Cardin seemed to agree, "Exactly."
Russel muttered his agreements and Dove was left to sigh and concede, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever, guys. Let's just get to this lecture; it's supposed to start at nine."
A click and beep from Cardin's hand revealed he was checking something on his scroll – most likely the time. He reeled back his head and scoffed. "Eight fifty-six. Eh, we'll make it. Let's go."
Once more leading his team, the brunette could shake the lingering feeling of disgust he felt around that scraggly, blond kid he was shaking down. Those eyes were off-putting and they pissed him off. He had a sword at his side and Cardin was unarmed, yet he chose to surrender and comply to his demands. Surely, he got into Beacon – so he probably knew how to use it. Not like he could beat him, but he could have at least tried.
Gods, he pissed him off. He hated people like that.
"What do you think it's going to be about?" Russel asked absentmindedly, pace steady and voice bored.
"I dunno," Dove replied, equally as idly, "but I hope there are some cute chicks."
Cardin scoffed. At least these idiots weren't so bad.
/-/
"Stupid god damn neck wrapper can't just properly – gah! Damn it!" Jaune blazoned into the lecture theatre struggling to correctly get his tie around his collar.
Eventually, he came to the realisation that the might of the cloth and won out – wearing away his patience and determination. He settled with its current deformed look and was completely unwilling to try any further with it.
The theatre itself was busy with chatter, friends greeting each other happily and teams coming together with one another to sit. It was the first lesson at Beacon for everyone, Jaune presumed, so it would make sense that everyone would be so excited. Really, the same could be said about himself.
Despite everything, Jaune still loved the fact he was able to come to Beacon – the place of his dreams – where he knew his own father trained. And he was a strong man. Not the easiest to approach but, to be fair, he tried his hardest.
Jaune and his sisters knew that too, and gratefully accepted any time he had to spare with them. Music lessons, family dancing practise with Juniper, the odd video game. But there was one thing he always refused to do.
He always refused huntsman training.
Not combat training, per se; all of the Arc siblings knew how to swing a sword around to an extent, but rather training to become a huntsman or huntress. Jaune wasn't even sure that his sisters knew what Aura was and he knew for a fact that none of them had it unlocked. When Vul unlocked his, he needed a crash course in how it worked – seeing as though he had little to no clue behind its function.
Amidst the bumbling bodies, Jane picked out a certain assortment of coloured hair and made his way forward – ignoring any and all odd looks he may have received from students that paid attention to him. Was it the unruly tie that looked more akin to a zip-tie than a suit tie? Or perhaps the fact he was carrying around a sword with him? Who could say, really.
"Hey, guys," Jaune said quietly, sitting between Ruby and Blake in what was slowly becoming their regular seating order. "What'd I miss?"
The raven-haired girl next to him sat with one arm crossed at her midsection as the of a book hid her face. Her golden eyes peaked over the top and nodded towards the other two members of the team who seemed to be in the middle of something along the lines of a conversation.
"All I'm saying is that it shouldn't be that much of a problem, Weiss… I don't know why you're being so stingy about it." Ruby said complainingly, pouting as her arms drooped to her side and pulling forward the tail-end of her cloak.
Leaning towards her partner, Weiss' arms were crossed as she spoke, "Hmph. I'll have to check with the faculty about it at a later date, just to make sure." Her gaze made its way toward the new blond, filling in the gap left by them. "There you are. I was beginning to wonder whether or not you would even show up."
"Of course I would…" Jaune whispered, blue eyes fixated on the patterned wood of the desk in front of him. He wasn't just going to miss his first lesson at Beacon.
"You can hardly blame me," Weiss responded, uncrossing an arm and taking her scroll out of her skirt pocket and flicking it on. "Look how late you are!" To emphasise, she shoved the device past Ruby and into his face – revealing the time to be `8:58`
A raised eyebrow and a slightly questioning look as Jaune swivelled his head to face Weiss. "How can I be late if it hasn't even started yet?" He asked, tone tinting with a slight edge.
"But you could have been late."
"That's not how being late works…"
Promptly ignoring him, Weiss next chose to look at his neck – icicles digging into his skin past the fabric of his suit. "And what on Remnant is that?"
"It's a tie," he responded truthfully. It was a tie. Not a very well-made one, but that didn't detract from what he just said.
"By the gods…" Audibly, the girl slapped a hand to her face and dragged it down. "Don't tell me you don't know how to wear a tie, Arc."
Losing confidence, embarrassment filled the void left by it. "Give me a break," Jaune muttered pathetically. "I haven't had to wear one of these things for ages…"
Barrelling through the door was another group of four. A familiar group of four.
Team PYRN rushed into the lecture hall – wooden contraption slamming into the wall as it was sent rocketing back at Yang's kick. With it open, the door revealed a panting blonde with sweat dripping down her brow and a head of bed hair that looked like a badly-made yellow fur rug.
"Not late!" Yang yelled, attracting the attention of many students. She took the attention in stride, still breathing heavily as she waved cheerfully to those who looked her way and made her way towards Team RASB.
Following her were her teammates – Pyrrha, Ren and Nora – in similar states. Pyrrha appeared mostly fine, the only indicator being a single liquid bead rolling along her cheek. But Ren? Man, that guy looked like an absolute wreck as his hands were on his knees. If Jaune didn't know any better, he would have suspected him to either cough up blood or pass out right then and there.
Believe me, man, the blond thought solemnly, looking onto the pitiable sight with a sorry gaze, I've been there. Cardio sucks ass. Nora was the one currently carrying him along – quite literally, he might have added – as she lugged the boy over her shoulders and shadowed Pyrrha up the stairs.
"Not late." Reaffirmed Yang, plopping down at the desk behind Weiss – who was the farthest along the row.
Jaune gave Weiss a very pointed look and flickered his gaze to Yang, to which she scoffed and rolled her eyes – soon finding interest in the chalkboard and the Grimm-related memorabilia surrounding it.
"Hello again, everyone!" Sitting next to Yang was Pyrrha, her scarlet hair bobbing slightly with the motion. Next was Nora, who placed Ren in the seat next to her like one would with a life-size doll. Ren mumbled his thanks – slumping over the wooden desk in front of him.
"Hey, Pyrrha!" Ruby greeted joyfully. "You had a good night sleep?"
She nodded her head, "Yes, I did. Thank you, Ruby." It seemed like the two team leaders naturally got along quite well, Jaune noted. Be it Pyrrha's constant politeness or Ruby's general demeanour, but they felt like good friends already.
"Though, I'll have to admit…" Pyrrha added, turning her emerald eyes away bashfully, "We did have quite a rude awakening…"
Along the row, Yang was whistling nonchalantly, admiring the paint on the walls. Jaune would accept some responsibility if he had to.
But he didn't, so responsibility could suck it.
The last of the class filtered through the open door and, finally, it seemed as though nine o'clock had rolled about. What also seemed to roll about was their teacher, clad in a red-buttoned jacket and coming into the theatre with an air of purpose.
Hair silver – but not the shining type like Professor Ozpin's, which made it more grey to Jaune – their Professor for today had finally arrived. On the dot, too, it seemed. Marching towards the desk in front of the green chalkboard, he slammed his hands down onto the wood and stared at the class. Eyes roaming left and right, they seemed to examine each and every person within the room. Pretty impressive since they were covered by his massive eyebrows.
"Hm." He hummed, it coming out both gruff and airy at the same time. The professor retracted his hands, linking them behind his back. "Welcome to Grimm Studies, children! My name is Professor Port. Peter Port. Huntsman extraordinaire, Slayer of all things Grimm… and ladies." Professor Port's eyebrow came down in something that resembled a wink.
Well, there went his credibility. At least to Jaune. Though, a quick look around showed that Weiss seemed conflicted, Ruby hesitant, Yang grimacing and Blake slowly lowering herself under the desk. Maybe it wasn't just him, then.
"In this class you will learn of the ins and outs of each and every Grimm known to mankind." Interesting. Jaune knew a lot himself, but it didn't hurt to have more knowledge at his disposal. You know what they say about power and knowledge. "And who better to teach you all than myself? A man of action. Of heroism. Of passion." Professor Port stated proudly, a finger pointed in the air as he winked again.
The very obvious winces didn't stop his roll, "Because this is your first lesson at Beacon, I have prepared a very special surprise that one of you lucky students will be assisting in." Murmurs of question began to raise in volume, but the professor's voice cut through it all massively and bringing the class back to slience. "However! First, perhaps I should tell you all of a little tale from my youth. To inspire, of course."
Clearing his throat, he began, "It was a dark, night in Mistral. But not dark, dark – for there were lights in the sky. Not just the stars and the moon. Fire. I was caught in the middle of it…"
A loud explosion rumbled the earth he laid on.
Jaune came back to consciousness, face laid flat on the dirty and damp floor of an alleyway. He rose it in an attempt to gain a better understanding of his surroundings. It smelt like blood, faeces and piss. And… gunpowder? Dust, too. That was new. Had he passed out? How in the hell…
One arm pushed him off of the grimy stone below him, and he grabbed at his knee to pull him the rest of the way up. The combined weight of himself and his backpack somewhat hindering him in his recent regaining of consciousness.
Slowly beginning to come to the realisation what where he was and what he was doing. His breathing sped up at the thoughts racing through his head. The interrogation, the White Fang, Vul, the faunus that they had gotten information out of.
Wait.
He knew something was missing. That something was the body of the tailed-faunus that should have been lying unconscious near him. His gloved hand grabbed at the top of his blonde locks. How long had he been out for? How much had happened? "Fuck…" Jaune whispered. His voice was hoarse – dry. The curse had been aimed at his headache, but it could have really been applied to everything right now, Jaune felt. What was he supposed to do now?
Vul spoke, his voice close but form nowhere to be seen. It answered, `Get out there, kid.`
That was insane, what if he died- `You won't.`
Screams, loud and harsh came from outside the alleyway. They were scratchy and desperate. They needed someone to save them. Jaune's head shot in the direction, but body firmly planted in place – unwilling to move. More questions raced through his head, each one shooting a pang into his brain.
Could he do it? Was he strong enough now? Flashes of the past; bloody brown sweater – salty tears on his tongue. The screams came again, a different person but the same direction. What did that mean? Was he too late?
Again.
"Fuck!" It came out as a roar. The stiffness in his muscles was released and Jaune pushed off into the lit darkness of the outside streets. If he could it, he wouldn't let it happen again. He wouldn't let anyone feel the loss he once felt. That was he was training to do, right? To be a huntsman.
To be a hero.
Ending Notes:
Run, Jaune, run!
We introduce CRDL in this chapter, whoop-dee-doo. I don't think the show really did them much justice in the way of their characters (like a majority of the V1-3 cast). They were simply a vehicle to showcase Jaune's character growth in attitude, with Cardin really being the only one to have traits to begin with – and that's being generous. In the end, he was still a two-bit character that received no growth.
Originally the plan had been to end farther along the timeline, but I guess some things just aren't meant to be.
And I'm back! Don't know if my writing ability has improved or degraded, though that is what the reviews are for. Inbox is open and such.
As always…
Thank you for reading this chapter!