Chapter 23 – Frigid
"Dust Faculty Access?"
I read the header of the form aloud. Weiss stands over my shoulder, arms folded, gazing at me sternly.
"Have this completed by the end of next week. I want my team to have access to the academy's Dust application equipment as soon as possible. Don't fret buying some for yourself, I had my own supply flown in on the first day," she says.
I lean forward, elbows resting on the dorm study desk, flicking through the rest of the form. It's three pages-worth of required information to fill. Nothing serious: Name, Age, School Year, Student ID number, typical stuff. Nothing particularly taxing, like medical records that I don't have or something.
However, my forehead crinkles in confusion. Dust application? For combat?
"I-I thought that, um, th-that Dust was used f-for fuel?"
She quirks an eyebrow, "…Excuse me?"
I wriggle, "L-like, you know, for cars and, um, stuff…"
That's the extent of my knowledge, anyway. I know Bumblebee's fuelled by it, and some of the tech littered around the house has some correlation with it too but, that's it. It wasn't something I divulged much time into researching if I'm honest. As much as I like Sci-Fi, actual science could never hold my attention.
Weiss squints. I squirm in my seat. She groans and rolls her eyes before digging into her schoolbag once more. Within seconds, she pulls out a thin beige pamphlet and thrusts it into my arms.
"Read this and get educated," she huffs. Blinking, I fiddle the pamphlet upright and read the title.
'Dust for dummies: And other Inadequate Individuals.'
"Thanks…" I say, deadpan creeping into my voice. Might as well have dropped a dunce cap on my head while you were at it. I set the pamphlet next to my jotter and textbook for later.
"Oh. Also," Weiss starts, scavenging into her bag again. This time, she takes out an exact copy of the form she's just given and hands it to me. "Give this copy to Blake if she comes back. I'd make certain that she received it personally but…"
She directs our attention to the girl's empty bed. Annoyance creases and she recalls this early morning.
Blake had already left by the time my teammates woke up, but I awoke before her, pretending as though I had slept in my bed and not in a bathtub as per usual. Our eyes connected for but a second before she got changed and left.
Neither of us spoke a word to each other.
"I believe she's avoiding me," she bemoans. "Besides, I don't have the time to chase after her. I have a supervisor assessment to complete today. Beacon isn't so careless to allow their valuable Dust equipment to be used without someone there to prevent the entire academy from blowing up."
Fair enough. Death by inadvertent terrorism isn't an appealing way to go. I take Blake's form and placing it on the pile. She zips up her bag, "I'll be back later."
I nod in understanding. Once set, Weiss turns and heads for the door. I'm about to let her go when a thought suddenly occurs to me.
"Wait, what about Jaune?"
Her hand stops on the handle. She glances over her shoulder, "What about him?"
"Does he have a form?"
"What purpose would that serve?" She chides, eyebrows scrunching. "His weapon doesn't have an energy conduit, there's no place for the Dust to go. It'd be a waste of everyone's time. There'd be no point."
That's not the point, I mumble. She's involving everyone on the team in this endeavour but him. How exactly is he going to feel once he finds out that Weiss has intentionally been excluding him?
I want to raise my voice in disagreement but…
A twinge of doubt creeps into my mind. I don't know a thing about how the Dust process works, nor whether Jaune is truly interested in Dust augmentations or not. I don't know him that well. Would he truly care that much? I feel like I'm being presumptuous, needlessly fighting a non-existent fight. I bite my lip.
Leave it, I tell myself. I'd only make things worse, anyway.
Victorious, Weiss turns up her nose. "Hmph. Glad you understand."
"Speaking of whom," she starts. "Jaune. He's foolish: clumsy, impulsive, undisciplined, and completely talentless. He shouldn't have been allowed to attend after initiation, let alone picked from the entrance exam. The proctors were full of perfectly intelligent people, they had to be aware of his ineptitude. Yet, he's here." She spins around, eyes glinting.
"Don't you think that's strange?"
My fingers drum anxiously against the table. It's not necessarily an accusation, but it feels like one. The events from Friday must've made her suspicious. From her perspective, it's no surprise. The fact neither Jaune or myself provided a proper explanation for it doesn't really help matters.
"…I never gave it much thought," I tell her.
She stands there for a beat, eyes critical and thinking. I pay them little mind, setting aside my form and reaching for my jotter. With a click of a pen, I throw myself into my studies, putting a full-stop to our conversation.
"Hm. No. Of course, you wouldn't," she says slowly. The door screeches open and shut. I listen out for her echoing clinks from her heels, slowly fading down the corridor. Fading. Fading…
Silence.
Wind gusts from my lungs. Too close. Far too close. The way she barged in, I thought for sure I'd be discovered.
Feeling secure, I set my textbook, whatever subject it's on, aside and go to fetch the book I quickly slid under my bed before she walked in – The book I previously was studying.
Remnant Legends and Myths. Thankfully unharmed, despite what Cardin put it through.
I return to my desk, placing the book down. Flipping my jotter to the back, filled with a list of myths, origins, locations and a scrabble of notes from several brainstorming sessions I've had during studies.
Twirling the pen between my fingers, I return to work.
Throughout the tales of supposed miracles, of heroes with interchangeable names, of giants Grimm more than likely made to scare little toddlers and reckless souls alike, I search for that elusive connection I've been yearning for. Names are scratched out after just being written, guesses are made and dismissed within seconds of creation, and many pages are read thrice over while others are barely given any notice whatsoever.
Such is how my time alone in the dorm is spent. I spend more time doing this than actual studying.
Probably going to make my life hell when it comes to the end of semester exams but, eh. I'll find a way to manage. This is far more important anyhow.
The rest of the morning disappears quickly. About three pages has been bloated in black ink, and roughly forty or so pages have passed in the meantime. I chew the back end of my pen. For as much time as I put in, I don't feel any closer to home than before I started.
I lean back against my chair and let out a great sigh. Forgot what proper studying felt like. I didn't miss it. I cast my resting eyes to the window, looking out at the lovely sunny day and the Kingdom of Vale, just beyond the grand ocean between.
…Why am I here?
There has to be a reason. This whole thing, a new world, vicious monsters, people with naturally colourful hair and superpowers, it's too crazy not to have a reason. There needs to be a purpose behind this.
But then, why me? What does this 'purpose' want anything to do with me?
No. What it wants doesn't matter. I don't care about what it wants. It took me away from my home, from my family, from my life. It can go straight to hell for all I care.
…There has to be a purpose. There must be.
"Crap," I ruffle my hair. There I go again, going in circles and ending up nowhere. I ask myself that question far too many times as it is.
Rattling. I jolt upright, snapping towards the door. The handle fiddles but the door remains closed. I hear muffled cursing followed by frantic cluttering. Someone's trying to get in. I stand gingerly and tiptoe over, gently pressing my ear against the wood. I'm aware of who it more than likely is but… I'd rather not take any chances.
Turning the handle slowly, leaving the door open ajar. I peek through…
The door falls open. I stand slack-jawed. Uh…
"J-Jaune?"
Good news: It's exactly who I thought it would be and nobody I hoped it wouldn't.
Normal news: He's digging into his bag looking for something.
Weird news: He's wearing a ballet outfit: a pair of black tights, a sweaty pink shirt clinging to his skin, and some crude dancing shoes that look like third generation hand-me downs.
You'd think this world would stop surprising me at some point but, nope.
"…Eren! Hey!" He grins pleadingly, "Please let me in."
Without delay, I hurry him into the room and swiftly shut the door. Before I'm given any time to process anything, Jaune recklessly tossing his things aside, grabbing a new set of clothes from the drawers, and hastily heads for the bathroom. He couldn't even wait to get in before clumsily throwing his shirt off.
"Taking a shower! Be out in fifteen! If it breaks, it's totally not my fault!" He yells, slamming the door closed with his foot.
…Nice to see you too, Jaune.
The shower bursts to life. Luckily, due to his haste, Jaune hadn't taken a glance at my desk and missed my studying session. With the time given, I begin to clear away my stuff, hiding it from him before he can question me later.
As he was going in, I managed to snag a look at his torso. To my relief, the bruises and marks inflicted on him Friday had all but healed, and there weren't anymore to take their place. We're on student grounds again so, I'm hoping that will be enough to dissuade them from attacking again.
Have to say though, despite lacking bulk, Jaune's surprisingly muscular. Especially around the shoulders area. I think he might even have Yang beat. I wouldn't go as far to say he'd beat her in an arm wrestling contest, though. Hm, maybe muscles aren't always the best measurement for strength here.
…Wh-Why am I comparing my friend's muscles?! Jesus, I sound like a creep!
Scuppering those thoughts in a fluster, I think on a far more important topic.
The events of Friday. Finding out that CRDL… are going after Jaune too.
So, what the hell am I supposed to do about this? Now that I know, I can't simply leave it alone, nor do I want to, but I've never been in this position before. Not even my internet friends confided their problems with me, nobody has. I can't suggest the method I've been using so far to him. I'm fairly easy to ignore but, Jaune? You couldn't ignore him even if he were invisible. Avoiding CRDL isn't going to cut it with him.
Research hidden, I sigh and rub my cheeks. If it were only me. If it were only me they went after…
Talk. I should talk to him about it. This is his problem I'm trying to deal with, perhaps he has an idea of what to do.
Slipping into my pocket, I take out my Scroll to check the time. It flashes. Thirty minutes before the end of lunch. Wow, I was really at it for a while. This might make things convenient, however. If Jaune came right back to the room without grabbing something from the cafeteria, then he's probably starving.
That's it, I nod. We'll have lunch together in the dorm, away from the others. Weiss didn't specify when she'll be back so, there's a chance that she won't be all that irritated if we don't eat as a team today.
And, it'll give me ample opportunity to try and talk to him.
"Hey, Jaune?" I call, "I'm going to grab some lunch from the common room. Do you want me to grab you something?"
"Uh- Ah! Cold spurt!" He yipes. "Whatever's there is good, tha- Ahh! What is wrong with our boiler?!"
This man has no luck, whatsoever.
"Okay, uh… I'll be back in a bit. Try not to die, please."
"No- Ah-Hah! Promises!"
Well, that's unfortunate.
I pat my pocket, ensuring that I have my Scroll so I can get back in, and, after taking a breath, I exit the dorm and speedily step down the corridor.
The common room is a fair distance from us. Nothing leg-straining or anything but, the sooner I grab lunch, the less likely I am to walk into anyone… I wouldn't like to see. I'm hoping that none of them are there.
Put it simply, the common rooms here are the academy are what would happen if a kitchen and a lounge crashed into one another and the remaining pieces magically fused together. The lounge portion has the usual congregation of sofas, tables and a wide-screen LCD television while the kitchen portion contains all the typical utilities you'd find. There's an oven: a microwave, several cabinets filled with cutlery and cooking utensils, you get the picture.
Everything except ingredients for a proper meal. You want that – You're expected to buy them yourself. Take some initiative.
But, that won't be necessary today. What interests me right this moment is the large refrigerator that's infrequently filled up with instant meals, stuff that can be quickly heated up in the microwave. The purpose of the common room is to provide students a public hangout spot in the dorm itself as well as grant them the means to acquire, store, and prepare food for when the cafeteria's shut. There's a few dotting around but, the one that I'm heading to is meant for first years.
I'm praying that it'll be empty.
"It'll be fine," I whisper to myself. They won't be there. Just go in, nab whatever's in the fridge, heat it up, and leave.
It's as simple as it sounds. For as soon as I peek into the door-less room, I'm gracious enough to find that there's nobody to be found and the fridge in right in plain view. Yes! Target located. Now, let's see if the staff have left anything good in there.
It's not quite as chock-full inside like part of me expected but, it's by no means empty. There are several sticky notes claiming certain pockets of food here and there, but there's still plenty left. Now then, let's see here: Some bottles of water, a few of those won't hurt anyone. Hm, as for lunch itself…
Ah! Instant noodles! Several large cups of instant noodles. Quick couple of minutes in the microwave and they'll be piping hot.
Shuffle.
The cup almost falls out of my hand. My spine straightens as I pull my head out from the fridge. I didn't mishear. I heard it, I'm sure of it.
Someone's in here.
My spine stills. CRDL? No, can't be. If it were any of them, they would've ambushed me already. It's someone else.
Carefully, I take another glance around the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a shade of brown, scurrying deeper behind the arm of one of the sofas, obscuring itself in the tiny space.
"H… hello?" I call out anxiously.
They sniffle, then sigh. A figure stands up from behind the sofa. I turn around to meet them and I'm greeted by chocolate brown eyes. Standing before is a girl, a brunette with hair reaching all the way down her back. She seems a bit older Part of me feels like I've seen her before, but I'm unsure where. I'm inclined to think that it was during one of my classes, but I can't recall seeing her during sparring.
Which is especially odd, considering that she bares long brown bunny ears.
A rabbit faunas. My sudden interest rises fleetingly, as on closer inspection, my intrigue contorts as a gasp escapes my throat.
One of her ears has been bent. I don't think the damage is permanent or anything but, the middle is lying limply like a dangling broken limb. Gazing closely at her eyes, I spot a dabble of wet patches underneath, reaching down to her cheeks.
The girl recoils and covers her ear, averting her eyes. Her knees fidget together. The realization hits me that I've been staring and I wince.
"I-I am so, so sorry," I say, softly as fabric.
She glances back at me, and then away. She stammers meekly, "N-no. It's fine. I-"
A muffled ringtone rings as her pocket begins to vibrate. The girl pulls out her Scroll and visibly chews her lip as she gazes at the screen.
"I… need to go," she tucks her head, making a beeline for the door. I don't stop her. Just briefly, I hear the beginning of her conversation on the phone as her voice disappears down the corridor. "Yatsu? Hi. I'm finished now. Wrong? No. Nothing's wrong-"
I remain, now alone in the common room. Uttering a sigh, I knock knuckles against my forehead.
Her ear. I know it's none of my business to say anything on it, and I technically don't have anything to back it up, but whoever assaulted it had to have wrenched them especially violently in order for it to be misaligned that way. Very violent and incessantly aggressive. No doubt, it was an act of pure unrestrained malice.
That bastard.
My eyebrows furl. I grab a handful of my jeans, fingernails tearing into it. I curse under my breath, "What the hell is wrong with them?"
"Man. How do they pack these many noodles into these things?" Jaune crows, stirring a forkful of noodles in his cup. "You think it's Huntsman magic? I bet it's Huntsman magic."
"Mm. Maybe," I respond, idly tapping my own. Despite having started about five minutes ago, I haven't taken more than a couple of bites. Between having not eaten and the increased appetite from sustaining my Aura, I should be hungrier than this yet, I can hardly bare to eat any more.
Jaune swallows down, giving me a curious eye, "Something up? You're not eating."
"I'm… not as hungry I thought I'd be," I tell him.
"Huh. That's no good. Hey, do you mind if I…" His eyes trail down to my barely eaten cup. Taking out my fork, I gladly hand it over to him. He glowers, "Thanks, man!" After setting my cup on his side of the desk, he sets off, chomping away in a gleeful fit of slobbery. I smile slightly. This is probably a better use for it anyway. Getting him in a better mood might make this next part easier.
I untwist my bottle and take a sip, gently curdling the water around as I brainstorm how to go about this.
After how rattled he seemed after his encounter in the alley, I thought it better to leave the matter be yesterday, give him a bit of breathing space. Lord knows that the last thing I'd want after something dramatic happening is someone blunderingly screeching, 'Hey! Remember that really shitty thing that happened to you?! Wasn't that really shitty?! It was totally the shittiest of shits, am I right, yah shit?!' No. If I need to this, I need to play it carefully and as thoughtfully as possible.
That being said, watching as he lets out another satisfied gasp, he does seem to be in a cherry mood now.
I suck in my chest, "J-Jaune?"
"Arh?" He looks up, cheeks chubby like a squirrel. He gulps the batch down. "What's up?"
"H… How are you? D-doing. How are you doing?"
He blinks, then says, "I'm alright. Neck's a little itchy, I guess but, I'm fine. Thanks."
"Oh. Th-that's… good. That's good."
That answered a lot, didn't it? Idiot. Try again. This time try touching on a subject related to what happened, then maybe I can manoeuvre the conversation around to it.
"I… take it you didn't find your Scroll?"
"Nah. I checked in the locker-room again on the way back but, no luck. It wasn't at the lost and found, either," he frowns, resting an elbow on the desk. "Looks like I'm going to have to apply for another one."
"Th-that's rough…"
I mentally slap myself upside the head. Stop it. Stop hesitating. This is for his sake, not yours. We need to talk about this. Even if it'll be incredibly… stressful.
"Jaune-"
"No, it's okay. I know what you want to ask," Jaune interrupts. He sets his now empty cup down on the desk.
"Y-you do?" I ask, my sharp voice revealing my surprise. He nods.
"Well, yeah. You're wondering about the ballet outfit, right?" He says. "And just for the record, the shirt was white before I put it in for washing! I swear! Damn elbow pads."
My posture deflates into my seat. That's not at all what I was going to ask, disappointingly. For a second, I thought my tactic had actually worked.
Although… "I'll admit, I am a little curious. I-I mean, I didn't think you were into ballet," I remark. He shakes his head.
"I'm not. At all. Really not at all," he says, face souring. "Actually, I think I might hate it. Do you have any idea how flexible you have to pull half of those moves off? I saw a girl lift her leg around her neck and keep it there for half an hour! It was the scariest yet oddly hypnotising thing I've ever seen in my life!"
I ignore that last part, "That's a shame. You wasted your morning on it, too."
He shrugs, "Eh. It sucked but, I can't say it was a total waste. It was a little fun. The instructor seemed nice, I didn't stink up the place or anything. Probably helped that I learned how to dance before, though. I even learned a few new moves. I can pull a mean splits if I wanted to."
Finding myself curious, I ask him tentatively, "Can you… show me?"
"Sure I can!" He grins pearly whites. Pushing out of his chair, he leans on the sturdiest part of the desk, places a hand underneath his jean covered leg and… puts it back down again.
He chuckles sheepishly, "But I won't. Because I don't hate myself that much."
I choke out a laugh. No, I don't think any guy would like to try that in such a small space. Though, as I sway along with the humour, I feel taken by my exceeding curiosity.
"Heheh. Still, if you don't mind me asking, what made you want to go there in the first place? It… seemed very spur of the moment," I ask. He admitted it himself that ballet didn't interest him, and it's not exactly the most… manly of activities. So, why put himself through it?
Jaune pauses and, seeing his face fall, I feel like I've hit the boundary of what's comfortable to ask him.
"S-sorry. It's your business. I-I shouldn't have asked," I retreat.
"No. It's probably better if you know," he says. Before he begins explaining, he grabs the cup I gave him and drills a mouthful of noodles out and bites in. He swallows, then rests the cup on his knees. "Do you remember what I asked you on Wednesday? In the foyer?"
"About Weiss' fighting style?" I recall. He compared the way she moved during battle to… "Wait. You went there for her?"
He nods, "Yeah. I thought she would've been there. You've seen the way she fights, right? All those flips and twirls? I figured she'd practice it regularly so, I thought she'd go to the Ballet Society." He swirls the fork around the cup absentmindedly before taking another chunk. "She never showed up. I guessed wrong. Big shocker, I know."
"I… sorry. I'm afraid I don't understand. Wh-why would you go there for her?"
"You remember what I told you earlier? About knowing how to dance? I'm not the greatest of all time or anything, I don't even think I'm anything above passable but, well," he smiles sadly. "Passable is probably more than what she thinks I'm capable of."
The realization hits me immediately.
"You were trying to impress her."
His silence confirms it. Needing a moment, he twirls another portion out and chews it slowly. He gulps it down.
"She seriously can't stand me…" he says tiredly. "It's not like she hides it. You heard her at the ceremony, she thinks I'm a waste of space. She doesn't even talk to me unless it's about chores or something menial like that. Heck, she doesn't even have that much faith when I do those. Isn't that sad? She hates my guts. We're partners, and she totally hates my guts."
"Jaune…"
I can't exactly deny him. Weiss wasn't soft when she her feelings of us known before the four of us went onstage but, her words for her partner were undeniably the harshest. I thought it was strange how he just bounced back afterwards.
But, if Jaune understands how little Weiss cares for him, "Th-then… why? I-I understand that c-cooperation within the team is i-important but…" The words come out hesitant as he stares down into the half-empty cup, turning it over idly in his hands. He closes his eyes for a second, breathing tersely through his nose.
"Because I want her respect."
"Wh-what?" I stammer, taken aback. He looks up at me.
"I know she's very… cold, and condescending, and uptight, and pretty pretentious honestly," he says, lips creasing slightly before quickly smoothing out. "But… I think she cares more than she lets on."
He doesn't stammer when he talks, he feels that certain that Weiss isn't so self-centred as she appears yet, I still struggle to believe him. Despite everything that's happened this week, that's all we've known each other for: A week. Hell, not even a week – Six days. How can he be so confident about somebody he's only known for such a short time?
I ask him, "…What makes you so sure?"
He rolls his shoulders, "Dunno. A gut feeling, I suppose? I can't really explain it. I just feel it with people, y'know? It's like a little voice in my head, telling me that there's something there to have faith in."
"Sounds very optimistic," I comment, delicately curving a frown.
He simply shrugs at me, "It's worked alright for me so far. It's not always on the ball but, it's better judge than I am." Jaune scoops up another forkful of noodles. He raises the fork up to his mouth, about to take another bite, when suddenly, he stops. Ruefully, he lowers the fork back into the cup.
"She's going to be a great Huntress someday, I can feel it. She's smart, hard-working, confident, and a talented fighter," he says. A sombre glow tinges his eyes. "She's everything I wish I was."
I wince sympathetically, "Jaune…"
"I have to get her to acknowledge me, Eren. I have to. It's the only way I can…"
He drifts off. A pained expression overcomes him, his fingers crushing the plastic sat in-between them as he stares down into his cup. I can hear his breath terse, as though his chest burned within and that fire soon flares straight to his eyes.
His head snaps up at me. Though it's pointed in my direction, his fiery glare seemed to reflect right back at himself.
"I need her respect."
Facing such a determined proclamation, I dare not look away, the pair of us seeping into silence. Though I fail to understand the value he places in her, and I'd be lying if I said I was truly okay with it, but Jaune's conviction is more than enough to convince me that he truly does. That'll have to satisfy me for now. I don't any have right to tell him what he should want.
Cup to his lips, Jaune readily downs the rest of his meal.
He gasps satisfyingly. "Phew! Jeez, I got really serious there. Killed the mood. My bad," he gladdens.
I shake my head, "N-no. It's fine. I asked." I wave over our empty water bottles and instant noodle cups. "Do you want me to grab another cup? I'm going to get myself another drink, anyway."
He smiles at me, "If you're offering, thanks!"
Collecting all our rubbish together, we have a bin, but the cleaners empty the ones in the common room anyway, I head to the front door when Jaune calls out eagerly.
"Ooh! Grab two, uh no. Three, crap wait." He pauses. "Eight. Eight cups of instant noodles, please!"
I playfully roll my eyes. I doubt there's that many cups for him to eat. For someone not particularly bulky, Jaune's got a bit of an appetite on him, huh?
I take our cups and our empty bottles of water and I make a quick back to the common room. On the way, I muse over everything Jaune had just told me, granting myself the time to think it all over.
Going to the Ballet Society – A society most probably compromised almost entirely of girls, wearing an outfit like that with little indication that you were going to do well, all in an attempt to gain someone else's respect. Crazy. I wouldn't have even attempted going to a dance society in the first place, let alone a ballet one.
While I can't find myself agreeing with who he's trying to impress, I can't help but feel more than impressed myself.
Jaune's… really brave, isn't he?
A trip back and forth to a still empty common room and the pair of us are stocked up again. For the next while, we both fall into a state of ease, chatting about topics that weren't particularly important or consequential. As flattered I am that Jaune was willing to discuss his issues with Weiss with me, I find myself irritated for allowing my curiosity to distract me from the true topic I should've been discussing with him.
Still, after a hefty subject like that, I think it's better if I lay off for a little longer. I don't want to push him too hard. Half an hour's worth of easy-going chatter and then I'll try again. That's my plan, anyway.
That goes out the window the moment Weiss walks through the door.
Her smile, full of pride, drops as soon as she lay eyes on Jaune, trying to sip up a long noodle strand stuck to his cheek. Panic riding him, he hastily sucks it up and puts on an exaggeratedly bright smile.
"W-Weiss, hey!" He waves. "Guess what? I had a shower and the piping didn't explode!"
"Hello Jaune," she sighs exasperatedly, turning her attention to me. Her brow rises expectantly.
O-oh! "H-how did the assessment go?"
She tosses her ponytail proudly, "Absolutely perfect! Unsurprisingly. I should receive my supervisor pass from the academy within the week."
That's good, I suppose. Still haven't read that Dust pamphlet she gave me so, I don't have a clue what this means for the rest of us. My lack of a reaction doesn't seem to bother her though, as she goes to unpack her bag on her bed.
"Supervisor pass? What is she talking about?"
My heart jumps. Jaune looks at me questioningly, my earlier conversation over his exclusion replaying in my head.
Uh…
"Ugh. Who left their clothes lying on the floor?"
Weiss, thankfully, interjects. She points to a crumpled mess, tossed haphazardly in passing thought, composing of a pair of black tights, a pink shirt, and a pair of boxer shorts. Her nose scrunches up irritably.
Jaune leaps up from his chair, explaining nervously, "Ah! That- That was me! It's, uh, what I wore when I went to my Society today." Feeling an opportunity, his composure smoothens into an unrefined 'suave' demeanour. "My, Ballet Society."
"Really," Weiss says flatly.
"Yeah! Yeah. Wasn't anything too difficult. My instructor said that I was quite a natural," he boasts. "I actually learned a few new moves pretty easily. I could totally show you them if you wa-"
"Was the washing basket too far for you to walk?" She chides. Lips curving into a scowl, she stomps over to the basket stored in the corner and drops it in front of him. "Here. Look. It's perfectly functional and scarcely a few feet away from the bathroom. You could've just as easily put it in on the way past but instead, you decided to create more work for yourself later and dirty our dorm floor."
She puts her hands on her hips, prompting him for an answer.
"Uhh…" His retort wains.
"Laziness," she points. "Pure laziness. It's a bad habit and it won't be tolerated on this team. Put your clothes in the washing basket or else you'll be stuck with all the team's future chores from now on. Understand?"
Jaune's bravado dissolves completely. He bites the inside of his cheek, folding his arms.
"Yeah…" He mutters.
"Pardon?"
"Yes. Weiss," he repeats clearly. Weiss glares at him, detecting a hint of indignation in his voice.
"Hmph," she huffs, spinning back to me. "You. Has Blake been given her form, yet?"
Jaune's head snaps up, eyebrows pressing down in confusion.
I fidget, "N-no. She hasn't."
"Typical," she groans.
"What form?" He steps forward, voice gradually becoming firmer.
Weiss continues, ignoring his question, "Have you filled in yours, yet?"
My eyes flicker in agitation. Is she even trying to hide it from him? If so, her attempts at veiling it at especially thin. Are you trying to prove a point with this or something, Weiss?
Jaune queries again, "Hey. What forms are you talking about? Were we all supposed to get forms? Does this have something to do with that supervisor thing you mentioned?" Realization sparks. "Is… Is this a team thing?"
My teeth clunk together.
"It's nothing you have to concern yourself with, Jaune," Weiss dismisses.
"This is a team thing, isn't it?" He continues, undeterred. He draws his perturbed attention to me, "Eren, why didn't you include me, man?"
The hurt on his face, the belief that I willingly excluded him, triggers the hysteria within me. Desperate to disprove, I stammer anxiously, "N-no. Th-this wasn't my-"
"It was my idea."
We both snap towards Weiss, "It's for accessing Beacon Academy's Dust modifying equipment. You obviously would have no such benefit from that access, so I saved us both time and brought only two copies."
"You decided? By yourself?" Jaune says incredulously, "Weiss. Why didn't you tell Eren? He's the leader, isn't he? Shouldn't he be the one making those decisions?"
"There was no need. He's not the leader anymore," she replies with an authoritative smirk. "I am."
"What…?"
"He offered me the position Friday. We both had the same thought, I am much more capable of leading Team LABS and will do so during its future endeavours," she proclaims proudly. "The change isn't official, though. I was planning on telling the whole team formally once Blake acknowledged my position but, here we are."
Jaune's mouth is agape, utterly in disbelief. I intended to tell him about the change, I really did. It's just… With what happened Friday and, trying to figure out how to help him i-it all just slipped my mind. I didn't mean for it to be sprung on him like this.
He looks at me, "You… gave your position away?"
I wince, fingernails stabbing into my palm. He sounds so… hurt by what we've done, more so than when he thought I was excluding him. I don't understand. Maybe confusion was marring his feelings somewhat but, why do I feel like I've betrayed him?
I tear away from him, glancing at the desk.
"No. Wait. Hold one second," Jaune reels back on Weiss. "What do you mean 'When Blake acknowledges?' Were you ever going to ask what I thought about this?"
"I was giving you the benefit of the doubt and assumed you wouldn't have been stupid enough to make the wrong decision," she retorts, the ire in her throat building.
"But not the benefit of trusting that I can make my own choices, apparently," he growls not so-subtly.
The white-haired girl folds her arms, taking her partner's unhidden vexation as some sort of challenge, like an alpha dog about to undermined by one of his lowers. She accepts, sending him back a fixed look.
"Is there an issue here, Jaune?"
A quiet choke delays an immediate response, a hint of reluctance even with all the chagrin boiling within him. She expects him to back down, to yield when confronted with her anger like the several times before, to say he's sorry and accept that this was the way the team worked now.
"…You know what? Screw it. Yeah. There is."
Not this time.
Weiss' eyes perk up in surprise briefly before swiftly regaining her stern glare. She bids him, "Well then? Out with it."
His lips wobble, but Jaune refuses to back down now, "I'm… I'm part of this team too. I know you don't like that, and… that I haven't made the best first impressions."
"You don't say," she says sarcastically.
"But I want to change that. We're partners, Weiss. Like it or not, we're stuck with each other for four years. I don't want-" He points between them. "-this to become normal for us."
"What exactly are you asking from me, Jaune?" Weiss asks, tapping her feet.
"A chance. I just want you to give me a chance to show you that I can be a good partner and teammate. I want you to…" He breathes. "To rely on me. Even just a little bit. That's all."
"Why should I?"
Her blunt request causes Jaune's conviction to jitter.
She narrows, "A purely honest question. Why should I give you that faith? What's earned you that right?"
"I…"
"An example. Please," she goads. "You obviously think you're worth the team's trust, you must have some reason to believe you're fully capable of holding your weight. Tell me how you're worth entrusting our lives in your hands."
Jaune is sullenly silent.
"No answer? Well, allow me to answer in your stead. No. You're not worth it. I meant every word I said to you at the ceremony and I still mean it now. I don't wish to speak ill of Beacon Academy's administrative staff, they're better than that, but allowing you to attend with your lack of ability was a terrible mistake and what I discovered during initiation only solidifies it as such," Weiss scolds.
"I'm…"
"You're a liability," she says coldly. "You're unskilled, uncoordinated and, besides your above average strength, you bring nothing of substance to the team. If we bring you into the field at your level." She glares,
"You'll only get us all killed."
"Gh…!"
Jaune recoils as though he'd been shot. His face crinkles in fear, the ire built up from all of Weiss' belated reveals today crumbling to a pile of rubble. He tries to voice a response, a counter, anything to continue fighting back but all that comes out is a weak dry grunt.
Weiss closes her eyes and sighs. Taking a textbook and jotter out from her bag, she prepares her setup for studying at the spare studying desk.
"You want me to give you a chance?" She says, refusing to look at him. "Give me a reason why I should." Believing everything she needed to say had been said, Weiss opens her books, clicks her pen and begins to study as she has been doing since the semester began.
I gaze up at Jaune, finding him unmoving, almost frozen to the floor. Sticky saliva pins my tongue to my throat, as I watch him.
He continues to stand there, gazing defeatedly at the floor. He tried. He really tried. He confronted her with his desire to gain her respect and it was driven head-first into the ground. I don't understand his need for her respect, I only know that he really wanted it, and I can feel that rejection resonate within me.
Finally moving, Jaune's head tilts up.
Then he makes a beeline for the dorm door.
"Jaune? W-where are you going?" I ask.
"To train," he replies, voice veiled. "And to think."
He shuts door behind him, boots bumping against the corridor carpet. I feel the urge to stand up and chase after him but, I remain seated. I wasn't much help during that whole conversation, I doubt I'd be able help now.
…How stupid of me.
I didn't say a single word during that entire encounter. I sat here, without even voicing a single word of support for him. I didn't know if it were right – If instead of helping I'd only stoke the flames of an already heated conversation. Part of me justified it as 'Voicing their grievances with each other might ultimately help.'
What a load of crap. When has an argument ever resulted in something good happening? You should know that better than anyone.
Damn coward.
The loud scribbling of Weiss' pen bumps me out of my thoughts. I glare at her, studying away peacefully like it's any other uneventful day. None of what he said affected her at all, did it? Why would it?
It's not like it directly affects her or her 'team' now, does it?
"Stop looking at me like that. I'm not the villain here," she grumbles. "Someone has to tell him the truth and it certainly wasn't going to be you."
I glance away from her, trying my best to pat out the flames and pretend as though it didn't exist in the first place. Deciding to distract myself, I grab my jotter and textbook and resume my earlier cover. Probably not going to absorb anything now, though.
"You're aware that we were all lucky to survive our battle against the Nevermore, aren't you?" Weiss says suddenly. I don't look her way.
"…I am," I admit, albeit reluctantly.
"'Luck is unreliable, and it's a cheap escape for those without skill.' Placed into that scenario again, there's no guarantee that any of us would've made it out alive," she says, flipping another page. "We have our first mission in September. We can't assume that our luck from initiation will carry on into it. We must ensure that our team is in peak condition if we are to succeed. That means detecting our weak points as a team and dealing with them appropriately."
She flips another page rather forcefully.
"Jaune is one of those weak points."
The fire in my stomach kindles but is immediately dosed again.
"I assure you, challenging him will benefit us in the long run one way or another," she claims. "If he proves himself sufficiently useful, we'll know that he won't become a burden to us and his performance, both at the Emerald Forest and our Sparring lesson, will be shrugged off."
It sounds so simple, the way she says it. Although she believes him to be completely worthless, she doesn't speak confidently of his failure. It's apathetic, a mere fact. Succeed or fail: It doesn't truly matter to her. She'll find a way to make do, whatever the result tells her.
"…And what would you do if he doesn't?" I ask.
Her scribbling stops ponderously. I glance over, and she stares back at me. Devoid of pomp, she tells me seriously.
"Then he'll be a problem."
"I-I forfeit…"
I break stance and lower my barrel to the ground. My sparring opponent shrieks an infuriated, 'Are you kidding me?!' as my eyes unconsciously dip to the floor. I tried. Honest to goodness, I kept trying to stop thinking about it, of what would actually happen when I pulled the trigger but…
Miss Goodwitch sucks in a hot batch of air through her nostrils.
"Very well," she sighs.
She taps her Scroll and the screen blankets my name in hazy red defeat. Aware of the several annoyed grumbles from the stands, I trundle back to the locker-room, hiding my ashamed face.
I skip showering, opting to quickly change back into my uniform and stuff my clothes into my schoolbag in a flurry. Even without the threat of CRDL potentially looming over me, spending more time than necessary in here makes me feel anxious. Even changing feels risky. Never liked public changing rooms. At least here there are isolated bath stalls in hide away in.
As I'm putting my equipment away into my locker-room, a weight barges roughly against my back, causing me to yelp and lurch forward.
I spin around. My would've-been opponent from the spar sends me a burning glare. I wither from it like greenery. He huffs and turns, grumbling volatile insults under his breath as he storms back to class.
I sigh. I can't really blame him for being pissed, I completely wasted his time, if not everyone else's.
About a quarter of the class groaned when Goodwitch selected me for a mandatory match. My previous match with Sky has given me a bad reputation when I would've been satisfied with none. Used to be getting into fights that made me feel bad. Now, not fighting at all makes me feel worse. People actively dislike me now. What a way to start your Tuesday morning, right?
I bump my head against the locker door. Stupid. I feel so damn stupid…
I recollect myself, pushing the thoughts away. I make sure that my locker is sealed securely before steadily making my way back to class.
Reaching the top of the spectator stairway, I spot Ruby, Pyrrha, Yang, and our trio of teams clumping together into one big social group. Well, somewhat social.
Ruby is the first to notice me approach. Putting on a comforting smile, she waves and calls to me, "H-hey, Eren!"
Beside her, Pyrrha turns and greets me politely, "Welcome back."
I give them both a small smile before glancing up at Yang, positioned herself a level above Ruby and Pyrrha alongside the rest of her team.
She's donning an ill-befitting serious face and eying me very pointedly. Our talk from Friday rings in my head. I avert my gaze before fidgeting with my hoodie hood, pretending to never have looked.
Ruby blinks at me but, I don't think she noticed. Her lips thin sympathetically but I just shrug. "It… wasn't going to happen today." I keep my voice sombre but, I hold back any intensity it would've had if left unhindered. As much as I don't want any of them to fret over me, pretending that forfeiting a match and failing to successfully spar against someone was fine would've only made them more concerned.
Besides, I'm not the one people should be concerned about.
Jaune's sitting on the highest row, two levels above Ruby and Pyrrha. His head is down, fingers interlaced with one other as his boots chap, chap, chap against stone. He's staring very intently down at the floor.
I bite my cheek. While I wouldn't say he's been aloof exactly, his behaviour since his talk with Weiss has been less cheery and happy-go-lucky. He's also been spending less time available, almost immediately heading off alone for training once free period hits. Sparse doesn't begin to describe it.
I sigh. At least he's still sitting with us, I peer over my shoulder.
Blake's seated at the opposite end of the classroom, idly flipping through another one of her books. She's not even bothering to sit with us anymore. It seems like every day that passes the amount we see lessens and lessens: There's class mornings and lectures of course but, other than that, she's the team's spectre.
To say Weiss is miffed might be underplaying it a tad, shock and horror. I'm only hoping things will get better between them before it gets worse.
Distance like this… It's not good for the team.
I take a seat right next to Ruby as she watches the ongoing fight, enraptured in the chaotic clash of stainless steel and smoking shotgun shells. I observe the two fighters pensively as they barrel into one-another with little abandon for well-being, their opponents and their own. It's perturbing, honestly. Without their Aura, it'd be like watching two grizzled Vikings in a blood-soaked battle to the death.
How can they both be so certain this is safe? How can any of these people be so confident? Not even MMA fights are so candidly vicious.
I heave, pulling my head back to relax my posture. Jarringly, it touches something. Not the floor, it's too soft and I'm not stricken by instant pain or anything. That's… new. Soft is definitely new. I peer over my shoulder-
Thigh. Bare thigh. Back of bare thigh. Back of bare thigh and skirt! Back of bare thigh belonging to girl lying down!
Danger! Away! Look away, damn you! Keep all eyes to yourself, you total dipshit!
I swerve, pulling my hood down and pulling it down tight, obscuring my cherry-red face and incessant spluttering from view, "I-I am so, so sorry! I didn't mean to bother you! It was a mis-"
A snore drones.
"…Take?" I blink. With an air of caution, shielding my right eye with my hood, I turn around to look properly at the girl.
A scruffy patch of plum hair is lying down on a puffy pillow, a low humming snore gurgling from her mouth, synchronizing with her rising and falling chest like a squeaky dog toy. It's her again, the narcoleptic girl. Yang's partner. Seems like she can sleep just about anywhere. I'm surprised Miss Goodwitch is letting her get away with sleeping in class. Definitely wouldn't have been allowed back home in P.E. The teacher would've cannibalized her before that happened.
It's just now, however, that I notice she's wearing a long pair of biking shorts under her skirt. N-not because I wanted a look or anything! I-i-it just caught my eye.
It… seems like she knew something like this would've happened. Guess some people just have that kind of foresight.
I retract my hood and breathe a little easier. This lasts roughly five seconds.
Shoes shuffle around the plum girl's sleeping frame, coming to a stop right behind me. Soles clamp the ground as she sits at the very edge, centimetres away from my left ear. The… closeness is familiar, I can tell it's her before she whispers.
"We need to talk."
I suck in a breath, tugging at my cuffs. Of course. It was written on her face. Yang's not the type to let things simply lie. Though, if she's upset about Friday, I'm perplexed as to why she hadn't brought it up sooner.
"If it's about what happened on Friday, I'm-"
"It's not about that. It's about you," she narrows.
"And CRDL."
My skin goes icy cold. A sea of icicles stabs me in the stomach, and a chill hand grabs me by the throat. I stare up at her, my mouth numbly agape. She's not looking away. She's staring right back at me. Every second she refuses to back away causes my freezing body to seize tighter and tighter. I don't think I'm breathing.
She knows.
She knows!
She knows!
"Alright, we still have time for a few more bouts. Does anyone wish to volunteer for the next fight?"
Miss Goodwitch's booming voice shatters my frozen body. I snap around, pumping air into my lungs to ensure they're working. This is a brief reprieve. My turn's come and gone, thankfully. I… I need to use this time to think. Think of a way to get myself out of this. My brain is in a flux. How the hell did she find out about them?!
"I'm game!"
A towering figure stands up, grin full of bluster, and I shrink further into my seat.
Miss Goodwitch fiddles her glasses into place. "Cardin Winchester? Alright. Does anyone wish to challenge Mister Winchester?"
Most of the students don't move a budge, either idly playing with the Scrolls or simply pretending they didn't hear the question. I tilt my head slightly but, not at their reluctance. Now that I'm properly looking at them all, is it just me or does the arena seem a bit… lacking in numbers? The first lesson, we had the full forty packed in. Now, I doubt that the maximum attending is anything higher than thirty-five…
Cardin leaps up from his seat to the front in clear view, raising his arms to beckon any challengers.
"Come on!" He roars. "Whose got the balls?! I'll take you all on!"
"Less of that, Mister Winchester, thank you," Goodwitch scolds harshly.
Yang shoots straight up from her seat, baring an intense scowl on her face. I feel the rising temptation to jump up and drag her back down, but my barely functioning tells me that wouldn't do anything to dissuade her. All I can do is silently beg her not to make this into anything more than it is.
Pyrrha also stands with her, eyebrows furling in determination. Cardin eyes her in particular and smirks.
Several other combatants begin to stand, some slower than others. It's few, about four or five, not a whole lot to select from. Miss Goodwitch seems ready to pick a student when all of a sudden…
Murmuring. Lots of murmuring. I think I heard someone gasp. My pupils dart around the room, scanning for whatever's causing such a disturbance. I follow everyone's trained sight behind me and…
Oh.
Oh god, no.
Jaune. Jaune's standing up. I can see his shoulders trembling horribly, but he's standing. What is he doing? Why is he standing?
What the hell is he doing?!
Cardin's face falls immediately. He's glaring deathly at Jaune, as though the act alone was a personal insult. He's even ignoring Pyrrha now, the girl he vowed to 'dethrone.'
Miss Goodwitch taps his Scroll, "Hm… I believe I saw Miss Xiao Long stand up fir-"
"No. I want to take on Arc," Cardin interrupts. His voice is almost painfully cold and emotionless, like he's keeping his unkempt rage bubbling inside of him. He grits, "If he wants a fight, I'm more than up to give him one."
Goodwitch gives him a look but, nevertheless, she prompts Jaune, "Mister Arc?"
He doesn't say anything, he keeps shaking. He's petrified, I can see it. He doesn't want this fight. He doesn't need to go this far.
Jaune. Please. Sit down. You don't need to do this. I'll…
I'll figure something out. I'll talk with Weiss. I'll handle CRDL. I- I'll do something. Just… Just don't! He's too strong!
He'll destroy you!
"Y… Yeah. I want to spar against Cardin."
Damn it, no! This isn't how it's supposed to be!
"…Very well. If you both insist. Both of you head down to the changing rooms," Goodwitch taps her Scroll and both portraits of Jaune Arc and Cardin Winchester oppose each other. Much to my horror, it's made official. "Your match is next."
A/N: And we're back! Very sorry to all who were waiting, I'm very grateful for your patience and I'm hoping to increase my update rate over the summer.
Another dialogue heavy chapter, this one. The Eren/Jaune conversation was a complete pain to write, there was so much I wanted to pack into it but, ultimately I felt it just made the whole thing drag. I'm tired of dialogue. I'm so happy to get back to fight scenes after this.
Granted, I'm sending Jaune to his death in order to get it but, eh. It was bound to happen eventually. The next chapter's not going to be particularly long so, I'm hoping to have that out fairly quickly in comparison to the previous chapters thus far.
As always, thank you all very much reading and if you have any thoughts on the story so far, good or bad, be sure to share them in the reviews. Constructive criticism in encouraged.