Not a bad week, all told, but I had a few foreign material incidents that gave me some hectic nights. Nothing that ended up being too serious, but with missing pieces of hard plastic, it's easy for those to become lengthy hazardous holds.

This chapter will not be from Cardin's perspective, but Blake's. I debated not changing the perspective, but fact is, it's more efficient from a storytelling perspective to get into Blake's headspace a bit, and I thought it'd be more fun to get her take on the following events. Again, thoughts and critique are always appreciated.

Chapter Eight: Going Out

That entire Saturday afternoon, Ruby had bombarded Blake with constant questions about the upcoming date with Jaune as she searched through Yang's clothes for something wearable. She would have gone with her usual black vest and white undershirt, but Yang had asked if she was going to a date or a funeral, a distinction Blake couldn't see, and promptly dragged her to an oversized suitcase packed with Yang's various party-going outfits.

Yang watched from the corner of the room, encouraging her to try the skimpiest articles, such as a low-cropped yellow shirt and brown shorts tight and high enough to pass for underwear. Every time Blake tried picking something and running with it, Yang planted herself in front of the door, arms crossed, with a stony expression in her eyes that said she'd force her into clothes if she had to tie her to the bed.

When Weiss walked into the room and fixed Yang with a cold stare, Blake would've welcomed another argument. Instead, the heiress surveyed the room, gave an aggrieved huff, and walked out. Yang glared at the open doorway and stormed after her. Ruby had tried to take Yang's role as professional fashionista, but Blake convinced her to settle for the yellow shirt, paired with a more modest, if more wild, black leather jacket, and a pair of glossy black pants with fashionable tears that left her thighs feeling drafty.

Blake arrived at Tuckson's an hour early, hoping to get some quiet reading away from Ruby's incessant chatter, but the moment she walked in the door, she found Jaune browsing the comics section, reading a recent edition of Vav. She tried to back out, but for once, her stealth had failed her.

"Blake!" The comic slipped from Jaune's fingers, and he fumbled after it. He leaned too far forward and would have fallen into the comic stand had Blake not rushed forward and grabbed his arm.

"Uh, thanks for that." Jaune blushed red enough to match Ruby. He looked at the time on his scroll. "You're really early."

"So are you."

"Uh, right." He glanced around the bookstore and scratched at his neatly combed, thoroughly gelled hair. "I was thinking that I'd get here early to, uh, get a feel for the place and look over their menu, but, well, they don't have a menu. Or seats. Or food." His hands shot up in a placating gesture. "Not that it's a problem, I was just thinking that dates usually, well, go out for food, or something? We can stay here if you want, or maybe we could go somewhere else if you want.."

Blake drew the leather jacket tighter around herself. "I don't really date much, I just picked the first thing that came to mind. Do you have any ideas?"

"Well, there was this tea and coffee place just down the street," Jaune said, gesturing out the window with his thumb. Maybe that would work?"

"Tea sounds fine."

"Tea it is then. I don't like coffee either, too bitter for me."

"I like coffee. It just seems weird to drink it in the afternoon."

"Ah." Jaune's eyes darted all over the place as an awkward silence settled between them. His gaze stopped on her jacket, and dropped a touch lower to the jeans. "You look really good."

She resisted the urge to cover up her thighs and internally swore at Yang. "Thanks." Her attention went to Jaune's attire, and she cringed. He had on a Pumpkin Pete hoodie and a pair of jeans with a ketchup stain that he had tried unsuccessfully to rub out. "You look good too."

"You don't have to lie to me," Jaune said with a self-deprecating chuckle. "All my other clothes vanished the night before. My teammates tried to help me find them, but all I had left was what I had slept in. At least I wasn't wearing my onesie."

"Was it Cardin's doing?" she asked with a growl.

Jaune went pale and looked away. Blake cursed herself for being an idiot, but she couldn't think of what else to say.

"I don't think so, actually," he said quietly. "Well, unless he has a way of getting past the locks on the doors. I probably just forgot them in the laundry and someone moved them out of the way." He furrowed his brow. "But I usually do my laundry tomorrow, and we would've seen it in the laundry if someone had moved it aside." Jaune sighed. "Yeah, it probably was Cardin."

"Why do you do what he says?" Blake asked. She felt the urge to bang her head against the thickest, heaviest book she could find in the store, anything to keep her tongue from running farther ahead of her.

Jaune froze up, and his eyes fell to the floor. "Well," he said stiffly, "We're friends, and friends mess around with each other."

By sheer force of will, Blake kept herself from pressing the point. "You said something about tea?"

Jaune blinked. "Oh, right, the tea." He glanced back at the comics. "Uh, yeah, let's go!"

If nothing else, Blake could at least say he had good taste in dating venues. The café Jaune had picked out sat on a busy street corner. Giant glass windows fronted two of its walls, giving a clear view of the booths and tables inside. The place had a muted décor that made any kind of clothes fit its laid-back atmosphere, and enough people were inside to keep them from standing out without being too crowded.

They seated themselves at a booth far away from the door. A waitress took their order and returned in two minutes with their beverages and a platter of cakes.

"Fast service," Blake said as she sipped her tea. It was a bit bland but drinkable.

Jaune tore open a packet of sugar and dumped it in his. "Yeah, it was."

Blake studied her tea while Jaune stirred his. For a minute, the only sound from their booth was the clinking of the spoon as it spun around the ceramic mug.

"You're from Atlas, right?" Jaune asked.

Blake was taken aback a moment and nearly said Menagerie before she remembered her cover. "Yes."

"What is that like, compared to here?"

"Cold."

Jaune waited for more, but Blake had nothing else to say. She had only been there a few months and didn't dare say anything for fear of contradicting herself.

"Oh. Uh, yeah, I hear it gets pretty cold up there." He cleared his throat. "So, do you have any family?"

"Yes, I do."

Jaune slapped himself in the face. "Stupid question, I know. Could you tell me about them?"

"Not much to tell," Blake said, treating each word like steps through a minefield. "My dad was a trader and my mom stayed at home. I don't have any siblings."

"Cool. I've got seven sisters."

He seemed crestfallen when Blake didn't respond to that statement. "I guess it's not that cool. Anyways, my dad was a Huntsman, and my mom stayed home with us. My older sisters would help out with chores and cooking and stuff, and I helped watch my little sisters."

"Sounds like you miss them."

"Yeah, I guess I do. I wish I could talk to them."

Blake paused with the mug halfway to her lips. "Why? Did you get in a fight with your parents?"

"No, it's not that. It's just – they didn't want me to be a Huntsman. My dad said it was way too dangerous and I'd get myself killed during Initiation." Jaune chuckled sourly. "He was almost right about that one."

"They're probably really worried about you."

"You think I don't know that?" The mug trembled in his hand, and tea sloshed onto his hoodie. "Sorry, I know I should call them and let them know I'm okay, but, well, my dad would come, and he'd drag me back home."

"Tell him it's what you want to do. He would understand."

Jaune's voice was a bare whisper rippling the surface of his tea, but Blake's keen hearing picked it up. "It's not."

"It's not?" Blake asked.

Jaune flinched and looked up at her. "I – I grew up wanting to do a lot of different things. I thought I wanted to be a blacksmith, but I thought the forge was too hot. I tried being a musician, but I got bored of memorizing notes and scales. You name it, farmer, artist, writer, scientist, I tried it all and lost interest. Then, I thought I'd try being a Huntsman." Jaune sank into his chair. "That's the one time my dad yelled at me. He would've let me be anything else, but not a Huntsman. I think that's the one reason I kept with it, just to see if I could prove him wrong about me." A tear rolled down his cheek and disappeared into his tea. "He wasn't wrong. Coming here was the biggest mistake I ever made. I know I don't fit in. Hell, I would've died if it wasn't for Pyrrha. And yet, here I am, still trying to make it work."

Blake felt as though she had just stepped on a puppy. She debated telling him to go home anyways, to face his parents after running away, but could she take the same advice?

"If you want to make it at Beacon, you need help. You need someone who can teach you how to use that sword and shield."

Jaune shook his head. "I have to do this on my own."

Blake snorted. "How? By watching Spruce Willis movies and reading self-help guides on the network? Beacon has teachers for a reason. No one gets good at anything without having someone to learn from. No one. I learned from someone, hell, even Pyrrha needed someone to teach her. I understand that you don't want to be a burden, but if you don't have someone help you get stronger, that's all you will ever be."

Jaune groaned and rested his head on the table. "I messed up. Pyrrha was willing to help me, and I threw it in her face."

"Apologize and ask her to teach you. It's not too late."

"After what I said? No way. She has to think I'm pathetic. She hasn't even said two words to me since it happened, and yesterday, she wouldn't even be in the same room as me. She skipped classes too." He drained his mug and slammed it on the table. "I have to be the worst team leader in Beacon."

"Do you have any problems with Ren and Nora?"

"Well, Ren is Ren and Nora is Nora. They're kinda their own thing. Nora hasn't said much to me lately either, and Ren, well, Ren doesn't say much at all."

"Sounds like you're doing better than my team." She sipped her tea and found that it had gone tepid. "Weiss and Yang have been at each other's throats lately, and every time Ruby tries to settle them down, Weiss gets furious, shouts about how they're ganging up on her, and storms out."

"That's awful. What are they arguing about?"

She debated telling them that Cardin was the cause of all the fighting, but that would put the conversation back in dangerous territory. "Yang thinks that Weiss is too stuck-up because she's the heiress of a large company, and Weiss thinks Yang is judging her unfairly. It doesn't help that Weiss keeps saying how she should've been made the leader."

"Well, maybe she should have. Ruby is only fifteen, after all." He quickly raised his hands. "No offense to her or anything, but it's a really hard job. Maybe Weiss would be better at it?"

Blake rolled her eyes. "She wouldn't. Weiss really is too stuck-up. The only reason I'm not arguing with them is I'm too smart to say anything."

"Well, maybe you should." Jaune twirled the spoon around his empty mug, making a metallic scrape that pricked Blake's ears. "If Weiss won't listen to Yang or Ruby, maybe she needs to hear it from you. Be respectful, maybe take Weiss aside and recommend some changes she can make. It can't be any fun for her to keep arguing, and I'm willing to bet she only needs some advice to push her in the right direction." The spoon stopped, and Jaune leaned forward on his elbows. "Talk to Yang first and try to argue it from Weiss' perspective. Then talk to Weiss. Don't mention any of Yang's points, just use your own. That way, she'll see you as an outside perspective, rather than someone on Yang's side."

Blake absently sipped her tea as Jaune's words sank in. "Sounds like good advice. How do you know all that?"

"I grew up with seven sisters. They'd get in fights every day." He smiled and leaned back in his chair. "One time, my two oldest sisters had a huge fight, and for weeks, they wouldn't talk to each other. It was something about how one sister was talking with the other's boyfriend. Mom tried telling them to make up, but of course that didn't work. So, I talked to both of them, heard each side of the story, brought them together, and told my oldest sister that if her boyfriend couldn't talk to any other girls, then it would only be fair if she didn't get to talk to any other boys, myself included."

"That worked?" Blake asked.

"It did after I gave her my best puppy-dog eyes."

He angled his head and fixed Blake with a wide-eyed, mournful stare. On an eight-year-old, it might've made hearts melt, but on Jaune's teenage face, with wisps of facial hair on his chin, it looked absurd.

Blake grinned and swatted him with a napkin. "I'm not a dog person."

"No, you seem more like a cat person to me."

Blake's hand darted to Gambol Shroud, only to find the weapon missing, left with her Beacon uniform at school. Jaune stared amicably at Blake, not noticing the sudden tension in her shoulders.

"What makes you think that?" she asked stiffly.

"All the reading you do, how you never talk to anyone, you stretch a lot after laying out in the sun. Oh, and you like tuna a lot."

"You've been keeping an eye on me?"

Jaune blushed and looked away. "Well, no, that was all Nora. She, uh, comes up with nicknames for everyone." He lowered his gaze to the floor. "You're the cat ninja."

Blake nearly scowled at this, but she restrained herself and asked, "What about you?"

"The sponge knight. She says it's because I can soak up a lot of damage, I'm soft and cuddly, and I'm – well, great in the shower, apparently." In a low mutter, he said, "At least it's better than vomit boy."

She almost asked him about it, but she had a feeling that Cardin was to blame for that nickname. A glance at her scroll showed that nearly an hour had gone by. "I know our date was supposed to start now, but I'm feeling a bit tired."

"No worries. I'll pay the bill, and we can get going."

Jaune fished his wallet out of his pocket. Pale shock froze his face as he stared into it.

"My card and money are gone," he said weakly. He groaned and put his hands over his face. "I swear they were in there last night. I must've gotten robbed looking for the store."

"A thief wouldn't have put back the wallet," Blake pointed out. "Sounds more like someone at Beacon took it."

A flash of surprise was replaced by dull resignation. "I'm really sorry about this. As soon as I have some money, I'll pay you back."

Blake shrugged and set some lien on the table. "Don't worry about it."

The moment Jaune stood up, a cake sailed across the café and struck Jaune in the face. Chocolate frosting was smeared across his nose and cheek. Blake looked towards the door and caught sight of a Beacon uniform disappearing down the street.

"Augh, are you kidding me?" he asked. The cake slid down his face and landed on the floor. "Would you mind waiting a minute? I'll wash up quick, and we can go back together."

Blake was just about to get up and leave, but a pang of guilt kept her in her seat. "Sure thing. Did you see who threw it?"

"Nah." He blushed and looked at her face. "I was, uh, too busy looking at you."

Blake clenched her fists from the effort it took to not scowl at him. "You should get washed up."

"Yeah, maybe I should."

Jaune sprinted to the bathroom. Blake settled in her seat and looked out the nearest window, hoping to catch sight of the Beacon student. Instead, she saw a street lamp tip towards her. As she left a clone behind and tumbled backwards over the booth, the metal pole slammed through the window. Glass flew in a hundred shards, hitting the tiled floor with a cacophonous chorus of chinks. The pole crashed into the table, splitting it in two with a thunderous crack, and fell to the floor through the clone's legs.

Jaune rushed out of the bathroom with wet chocolate smeared across his face and a paper towel in his hand. He dropped it as he rushed over to Blake. Glass crunched beneath his boots.

"Are you alright? What happened?"

Blake took Jaune's hand as she climbed down from the booth. "I'm fine. A street lamp fell over."

Jaune peered at the pole lodged in the café wall. "How did that happen?"

"I'm not sure. We should take a look." The missing clothes, sabotaged scroll, stolen money, and thrown pastry had Cardin written all over it, but a lamp post through the window? It was too destructive and messy for his tastes.

The café manager ran towards them and profusely apologized for the accident, asking if they were alright and offering to call an ambulance. Blake brushed her off and went outside to inspect the street lamp. Onlookers had formed a ring around the fallen post, holding up scrolls and gossiping with each other. Blake wriggled her way to the front. A boulder the size of Jaune's chest was wedged into the base of the post, just below where it had bent forward.

"Did anyone see anything?" she asked the milling crowd around her. Several people shook their heads.

Jaune shoved his way up to her and gawked at the boulder. "Do you think someone did that?"

"I don't think that rock fell from the sky, Jaune."

"But, why would –"

Blake grabbed him by the arm. "We should head back. There's nothing we can do here."

"Don't we need to be police witnesses?" Jaune asked as she dragged him through the crowd.

Blake gestured at the people around them. "They have plenty of witnesses."

"I suppose you're right. I should get some studying done anyways."

Jaune offered a hand, but Blake didn't take it. They walked side by side with an invisible wall between them.

"How's your studying going?" Blake asked.

"Miserable. If it wasn't for Ren, I'd be flunking all my classes. I'm so far behind it's a wonder I haven't gotten kicked out yet." Jaune sighed. "He's been busy helping Nora and Pyrrha with something for the past few days, so I've been on my own. He says it's a girl problem and told me not to ask them about it, ever."

"Ruby has the same problem," Blake said. With a blush, she added, "The studying, I mean, not whatever Nora and Pyrrha are going through." That brought all kinds of questions to mind, but she pushed them aside. "She's two years behind on all the coursework, so Weiss dragged her to the library every night. Well, at least until the fights started. Maybe you should talk with Ruby and see if you can help each other study."

Jaune chuckled. "The blind leading the blind? Shouldn't I ask someone smart for help?"

"Well, you could try Weiss, Sky, or a professor."

Jaune went pale as she listed his options. "What about you? I heard from Ruby you're doing pretty well."

Blake turned away from him. "I prefer to study alone."

"Oh. I understand." Jaune's voice had a lonely, despondent air that twisted a dagger in Blake's heart. She almost changed her mind, but the entrance to Beacon came up before them.

"Looks like we made it back without any more lamp posts falling on us," Jaune said with a nervous chuckle.

"No cakes flying out of nowhere either," Blake added.

"Yeah, that too." Jaune growled at himself and brought a hand over his face. "Look, I know today was a disaster, and I'm really sorry about it. If you'd rather not speak to me ever again, I would totally understand."

"It's not your fault," Blake said. "It just happens, sometimes."

"Well, if you'd be willing to give me another shot, at least we'd know it couldn't possibly get any worse, right?"

Blake almost told him no outright, but a quick glance at Jaune showed her a painful expression of hope and anxiety that twisted the words on her tongue. "I'll think about it."

Jaune's shoulders drooped, and his hair drifted over his eyes. "I understand. Have a good night Blake."

"You too Jaune. Good luck studying."

Jaune went straight for the dorms while Blake took a turn towards the library. She had debated going straight to her room to change out of the clothes, but odds were good that Yang and Weiss were still arguing.

In one of the hallways, a cheerful voice called out to her. "Hello Blake!"

She turned and found Nora standing behind her, twirling Magnhild in her right hand like a baton. Her hair was in ruffled tangles, and there were dark bags under her eyes.

"Nora. How are you doing?"

"Splendid! Thank you so much for asking. How was your date with Jaune?"

The question took her aback, and at first, she didn't know how to answer. Her gut reaction was to say it was not that great or explain it hadn't been Jaune's fault she didn't enjoy herself, but after reflecting on their time in the café and the conversation they had, she found herself with a different opinion.

"It was fun," Blake said. "It didn't go very well, sure, but it was nice talking with him."

Nora's smile, which had seemed as bright and ever-present as the sun, vanished in an instant. More like a flash of lightning, all that remained in the wake of her smile were stormy clouds and turbulent winds.

Nora's voice was the soft rumble of distant thunder. "He shows up in his worst clothes, didn't have his scroll charged, and made you pay for everything, and you still think that was fun?"

Blake took a step back. Her hands were halfway to her back before she remembered Gambol Shroud was gone. "Nora? What's going on?"

"Why are you dating him?"

"You're not jealous, are you?"

Nora smiled, but it had none of its earlier warmth. "No, he's nice and all, but it would never work out. Sponges and lightning don't mix. But cats and sponges? I mean, come on, cats hate baths and the cat hair would get inside the sponge and make it all nasty."

"What do you mean? You're not making any sense!"

Magnhild's haft hit the floor. Tile broke with the sharp crack of a thunderstrike. "Renny says I have a bad habit of saying all kinds of crazy things and making people confused, so I'll make this simple. Jaune. Is. Off. Limits. There, did you understand that?"

Blake swallowed and drew the leather jacket tighter around herself. "Why are you trying to control him?"

"Why do you care?" Nora asked back. "You didn't even want to go on that date!"

Blake's breath caught in her throat as she wondered how much Nora knew. Though her mouth was numb, she managed to say, "I wasn't planning on going out with him again. It was fun, but I agree, I don't think we would work out."

In a flash, Nora's smile was back with its usual radiance. "Good. I'm glad we were able to talk this out like friends."

As Nora walked past her, Magnhild's head grazed Blake's thigh, where the jeans were torn. The metal felt ice-cold on her skin. "Just remember, Blakey," Nora said in a tired voice, "If you make another move on Jaune, I won't miss next time."

Changelog

3/26/2019 – added some extra detail at the end for Blake and Nora's friendly conversation