Jaune dodged Blakes weapon, raising Crocea Moors to block Pyrrha's attack. He stopped just as he reached the edge of the roof, pushing aura into his legs to jump over them, catching them by surprise. He quickly turned around as he landed both weapons to their necks. Blake grinned and shook her head jokingly.

"Well done. I still think your family's sword is too cumbersome for your style."

"I agree, Jaune. Wouldn't it be better to make another blade?" Jaune looked at his family's weapon, thinking for a moment before looking up at his trainers.

"I could. But it's still my weapon, just as Flourish and Fair are. I would be disrespectful to just make a replacement. Besides, it has a few advantages." He sheathed his weapons and wiped the sweat on his forehead away. "It's weight ads to the force of my strike. It's thicker, so it's hard to break. And I never need to manually sharpen it." He patted the sheath, making them realize it had a tool built inside of it.

"That's actually really cool." Blake smiled and placed her weapon down to rest her arms. Pyrrha did the same. They all sat down to relax before going back in. Jaune took the time to inspect Flourish and Fair, familiarizing himself with his weapons once again. Pyrrrha saw this, and spoke up.

"Jaune." He looked up at her, hearing the wonder in her voice. "If you knew how to fight the way you do, why did you need my help? Why fake your transcripts?" Jaune's tinkering sounds stopped. Everything fell silent for a moment. Jaune thought hard for a moment, his eyes filling with an emotion that could not be identified as it seemed a mixture of others; fear, anger, sadness, melancholy. He swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Memory is such a funny thing you know? I could say something and it could be true, or a lie, or maybe even my imagination." He gripped his weapon tightly, his knuckles almost turning white. "But... how can you remember anything when it's not even there?" It somehow became much more quiet than before he spoke. Blake gave him a look of sympathy as she saw him struggle with his thoughts and forced himself to speak again.

"All I can remember is... the sadness. Just... the sadness..."

"Your swings must flow like water. Your strikes must be strong like a rock. Your body must bend and sway like bamboo. If you do not allow yourself to do as such, you will fail in combat." Afro watched his pupil continued to train, minding his words. Adam had bee training harder than before, focusing less on his semblance, and working with his patience. He fought the Grimm that would come after his master, not letting a single one pass him as he did. He took several deep breaths and held his sword tightly.

"I'm not ready."

"Neither is he. Patience, Adam. There's a time and place for everything." Afro reached for a cigarette, but placed his hand back on his lap.

"Master." Afro looked at the red haired Faunus, noting the seriousness in his tone. "When I fought Jaune... he wasn't himself. He didn't have his weapon. He was hesitating..." Adam turned to look him in the eye. A fire orange met dull hazel.

"Master... after I left... did you do something to him?"

Fire orange eyes filled with hate and anger, met a hardened blue. They each bled from their forehead, hands, legs and other areas their blades managed to reach. Their aura drained hours ago.

"We were brothers..." The blonde raised his sword in the In No Kamae stance, ready to swing it like a bat if the red haired devil charged at him.

"You're in the way." The red blade returned to its sheath, though his hand never left the grip. "Step aside, or die with him, human." No other words were spoken.