She hooked the edge of Jaune's shield against her scythe's neck, straining to tear it from his grasp. He held on for dear life, stumbling closer; hewing low. She hopped over the sword stroke and pointed the rifle barrel directly at his defenseless noggin. Ruby pulled the trigger.

His head snapped back and he teetered uncertainly. Spinning with the recoil, she lashed out. He somehow managed to raise his shield in time. Her scythe raked the paint from his family sigil. She landed, easily parrying his disoriented riposte. He kept their weapons locked and pitted the weight of his body against hers—to predictable results. Her boots slid along the sweat-dappled ring, arms trembling from exertion.

He dropped his shield and grabbed Crescent Rose's handle, yanking upward; forcing her to lift her heels. Then he threw a knee at her stomach. She let go of her weapon, swayed left to avoid the blow and decked him. He reeled back a couple paces, more surprised than hurt. She took the opportunity to kick his shield into her waiting hand.

There had been a time when she'd considered fitting Crescent Rose with a collapsible shield attachment. The idea had fallen through in the end but she'd still familarized herself with a wide variety of options, from bucklers and circular Argusian shields (ala Pyrrha's Akoúo̱), to heater shields like the one she was currently wielding. Which meant that while she was by no means an expert, she at least knew what she was doing.

The same couldn't be said for Jaune, who discarded Crocea Mors in favor of holding Crescent Rose in an awkward, double-handed grip.

She couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Damage my baby and you're dead, buster."

"I'm more worried about damaging myself," he muttered, unlocking the bolt handle from the receiver before pulling it backward and ejecting the spent cartridge. It fell with a light tinkling noise. "Impressed?"

"At how slow you are, maybe," she mocked. "Nobody's gonna stand still while you do that in the middle of a fight."

"You did."

"I couldn't help it—it was like looking at a car crash."

He raised Crescent Rose and fired, barrel drooping due to how unaccustomed he was to the top-heavy design. She fell into a crouch and huddled behind his shield, feeling it shudder against her as it ate the bullet. It would've hit her ankle if she'd remained standing. Ruby wondered if he'd meant to do that or if he'd just gotten lucky.

The frantic drumming of his feet nearly masked the distinct ker-chunk of him clearing the breech once more. She rolled to the side as he clumsily slammed her scythe down on her previous position, arms wavering as the weapon rebounded off the floor. He'd put too much force in that one, a mistake that wouldn't go unpunished. She leapt forward and clubbed him over the head with his own shield.

He stood his ground admirably, but with his hands occupied and feet firmly planted, that just gave her free reign to whack him with the return swing.

It pained her to admit it, but Crescent Rose—like every other polearm—was virtually useless in extremely close ranges, a lesson learned through many painful spars with her family. It was the reason why she had the spike affixed to the bottom of the haft. While it didn't allow for much power or precision, it usually let her hold out long enough to regain some much-needed distance.

Ruby never gave him the chance to turn it against her, sticking close and blocking his vision by framing the shield in front of his face, dodging as he thrust Crescent Rose like a spear. It went wide over her shoulder. She struck him a third time, knowing something was amiss when he pulled the trigger without bringing the weapon back into position first.

She had a fraction of a second to react. Jumping would take too long; ducking meant some of the blade would still catch her. Using her semblance, she blurred forward. By the time it occured to her that she could've very easily gone either left or right instead, her forehead was already slamming into his chin. They both went down, with her thankfully on top. She sprung off him before he could turn it into a ground fight. She'd managed to maintain her grip on his shield but the same couldn't be said for him and Crescent Rose. She lunged for her weapon but he pulled her back by her tail.

Her pulse spiked. Ruby squeaked and about-faced, whipping the shield across his temple. That was one blow to the head too many. He released her and crumpled to the ground, too dazed to fight any longer. Her ears rang from the gunfire; her lungs burned for air. Panting harshly, she stood victorious over his prone form and let his shield slip from nerveless fingers.

Jaune rolled onto his side, nursing the spot she'd just walloped. Messy blond locks, moist with perspiration, fell limply over his wan face, brushing against half-shut lids.

"I'm so sorry..." He tried to push himself up but fell flat on his face. A deep red flush seeped to the tips of his ears. His voice came out muffled as he spoke into the floor, "I was—I was going for your cloak. I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine," she said, sounding more calm than she felt. He craned his neck to stare at her incredulously. She self-consciously swept her skirt down over her legs. He couldn't see under it—the angle wasn't quite right. But the worry lingered for some inane reason. "You startled me and I overreacted. It's no big deal."

"Really?" he asked, accepting a hand up and clambering laboriously to his feet. "I assumed touching people's faunus parts is a big no-no."

"It can be for some people, and I guess I'm the same way," she admitted. "But I don't mind if it's you."

"Wha?" He seemed startled.

She blinked. "You're my best friend, silly."

He sighed, in relief or disappointment she couldn't tell. "Oh. That's what you meant."

Well, yeah. What did he think she meant?

"We should grab our gear," she said. He grunted agreeably and they collected their weapons, laying them out over the sturdy metal table in the corner of the room, safely out of harm's way in case a stray bullet or something left the confines of the ring. Jaune dipped outside for a moment and came back with two chilled water bottles.

The rooftop hadn't been the best venue for their purposes—Crescent Rose going off would've roused half the dorm building—so they'd relocated to one of the numerous sparring rooms around campus that were open twenty-four-seven. She'd heard they were mainly for third and four years, who kept irregular hours, but lower years were allowed to use them too.

Beacon was cool like that. As long as you attended classes, did your work, turned it in on time and kept your nose clean, they were generally fine with whatever. There were no curfews and you could get a part-time job in Vale if you wanted more lien than the stipend they provided your team with, which was already generous enough to cover dust and munition costs with a bit left over. Beacon treated them like adults, and Ruby had an inkling that the other academies weren't nearly as lenient. Except perhaps Shade.

Jaune clicked his tongue as he ran his fingers across the scuffed-up symbol on the front of his shield. At least the damage seemed mostly cosmetic.

"Sorry about that," Ruby said.

He waved her off. "It happens. A trip to the forge and it'll look good as new."

An idea sparked to life. "You should take the chance to upgrade Crocea Mors," she said, looking over Crescent Rose from each and every angle to see if any of the numerous delicate moving parts had misalligned due to his inexpert handling.

"I dunno if I should be tampering with it..." he said. "It's a family heirloom..."

She put Crescent Rose down and met Jaune's eyes, shrugging. "It's also your weapon. I think you should decide which takes priority. If you really can't bring yourself to make any modifications, then get a new weapon." She touched his arm. "You, of all people, need all the help you can get. Just think about it, okay?"

"Will the stipend cover the costs?" he asked.

"It will if you buy the components seperately and apply them yourself," she said.

"Ruby..." He gave her a helpless look. "I don't even know where to begin with something like that."

"That's why you have me." She hiked a thumb at herself. "Hellooo, first class weapons engineer here?"

Seeing that he still didn't look convinced, she gave him a light jab on the shoulder and said, "Look, just think about it, okay? Then we can talk about what you want and we can head to Vale together to buy the parts. Just remember that everything up to this point has been harmless but it won't stay that way forever. We'll be going on missions soon so you should take every opportunity to better yourself. And there's the tournament after that..."

"I'll think about it." He frowned pensively, collapsing his shield back into a scabbard and flexing his fingers against the table's rim. He took a long pull from his water and swirled it round his mouth in thought. She supressed a smile at how silly he looked. "Great advice and sparring, too. You're making me feel guilty at how one-sided this all is."

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm not getting anything out of it," she said, brushing sweat-soaked bangs from her face; shifting Crescent Rose to its storage form and stowing it behind her waist. Sparring with him was a test of endurance as much as anything else. What Jaune lacked in skill, he more than made up for in perserverance, backed up by more aura than he knew what do with. "You're like a living, breathing training dummy."

He laughed. "Like one of those fancy-schmancy sparring bots up in Atlas?"

"Exactly," she said. "Except better, because I don't have to worry about breaking anything expensive when I hit you."

He wiped away an imaginary tear. "You always know what to say, Ruby."