It had been a bad day for Jaune.
No, scratch that, a bad week altogether… granted, it came after the luckiest week he had ever had. From getting his (surprisingly easy to get.) fake transcripts to being partnered (was that a word?) with Pyrhaa Nikos (who was, apparently, the 1% of the 1% in Huntsmen prospects) and made captain of his own team, JNPR.
Still, a whole week of being beaten to a pulp by a bigger, stronger, asshole-ier, douche in every combat class could do things to a guy. One would think that, after seeing the clear disparity in combat ability, the professor would pair him with a more favorable opponent.
Apparently, no one had ever told Ms. Goodwitch, the definition of insanity.
So, after a week of getting his ass beat, he had decided to take a breather wandering Beacons grounds.
You have to give it to them, whatever you could say about Beacon, there was no other school quite like it. All castle-like as if ready for an invasion and all.
Still, he found himself sitting on the bench beneath his great, great, great, grandfather statue.
Ok, he was not sure how many greats he had to add. The familiarity of the figure still helped him somewhat because, as far back as you wanted to go, the resemblance was still there. Devoid of color as it was, there was no mistaking the bone structure (if the sculptor was worth his salt, obviously.) and of course, the weapon firmly grasped on his ancestor's hand. Crocea mors was as much an icon as it was his family's heirloom.
So, there he sat, contemplating his stay in Beacon…
If he was honest with himself, he felt bad… like really, really bad.
His whole team, made of good, steadfast people. People willing to put themselves between the encroaching forces of Grimm and the general population. Led by what could be aptly described as a con-artist, a fraud.
If anything had been a wake up call, it was the look of careful optimism being sent his way the last (read only.) battle where he had damaged Cardin… for all it was worth. Nothing more than a glancing blow leaving his Aura safely on the green.
Wasn't that humiliating.
All he was worth, all he had put his efforts in… a glancing blow to his bully.
And he was expected to lead his team through missions.
He was in over his head and for the life of him, he could not see a way to get himself out of it. There were no parents to call (burned bridges and all). No teachers to approach (Ms Goodwitch had let that very clear). No one who he could lean on (as much as he liked his team, he was more than a little afraid to tell them the truth of his situation.) to help him get himself out of this … this grossly oversized hole he had made for himself.
No one but himself.
His mind was a whirlwind of self-conflicting ideas, ways of escaping, straw grasping and deception. But, as his father had once said, where there is chaos, there is opportunity.
For all his lack in physical prowess, he had one thing, just the one thing that could, hopefully, help him out of his situation. And that was his mind.
So he did what he always did, he took a breath and distanced himself from the situation. It was a little trick his Mom had taught him to solve problems when overwhelmed.
He had always been an overthinker, always ready to put himself in the worst case scenario and work his way out, and isn't this the worst? Wasn't this the lowest he could have palace himself in? Wasn't this the perfect set up for the main character in one of his comic books to be born from?
Not that he was deluded enough to think of himself as such but, the thought still stood.
If he was nothing… he could build himself however he wanted.
The steps came easily to him. What did his team have? What did it need? how could he cover that need…?
So, he decided to take advantage of the only positive thing he had gathered from his first week. Something he was sure anyone else had. The overlooked ability to not flinch when he was hit.
Most people who had been training to be Huntsmen or Huntressesses (again, was that a word?) having developed it early on, relied on their aura. Trusting without a thought in its ability to protect from any and all harm. After a week of being pummeled, felt he could, too. He'd become a tank. He'd become the staying power of team J.N.P.R. holding the line for his friends to mow it down.
It wasn't glamorous. It wasn't what he had expected to be when he set out to become a huntsman, but beggars couldn't be choosers. He had one point in favor at the moment, his huge Aura reserves. He'd be a fool not to use it for everything it was worth until he could stand side by side with his team. This, he swore.
There wasn't much he could do at the moment though. Sadly for him and, despite the marvelous properties of Aura, he couldn't just imagine himself into shape. It would take time to re-model himself into a stronghold. That said, he could educate himself.
Aura, the bread and butter of Huntsmen and Huntresses all around Remnant. It lets you do heinous things to physics and Grimm alike. It made you strong, far stronger than he was before unlocking it at least. It shielded you from harm until it broke (no idea how that particular phenomenon happens though). It increased your senses (particularly useless for someone who had zero training. Your brain still works not to overwhelm you with information). It even gave you a sort of sixth sense that let you just know when things were going south. Oh right, it also helped you heal faster and age slower.
That was it. That was all the knowledge he had about Aura.
Very useful in a useless kind of way.
There were a lot of questions about Aura he just couldn't answer. Sure, no-selling attacks was useful but, what else could it do? Is there an offensive side to it? How far could his Aura protection field go? Why didn't everybody unlocked theirs, there had to be a reason right? Where did Semblances come into play, etc, etc, etc.
Mind made up, he stood and made his way to the library. Surely, after nurturing generation after generation of Huntsmen and Huntresses, at least some information would be available.
He never made it that far, oh no. He was stopped by the one person he didn't want to see.
Well, no, not really. That was Cardin. Top 3 maybe… ok not that either, he felt that both his parents would be there… So, top 10?... shit, not there either. So 1st is Cardin. Actually, scratch that. His Mom first, then his Father and then Cardin. Afterwards he'd have to put his sisters, so that was 4th to 10th place… then Ms Goodwitch… ok so, the Headmaster was 12th.
Not the moment.
"Am I interrupting?" the Headmaster asked, clearly aware of his inner conflict, or aware that he was lost in thought at least.
"I ermn no?" flawless answer.
"I see…" he took a sip of his coffee, because of course he had one. Then again, running a school full of hormone driven superpowered teens had to be exhausting. Although, if he was honest with himself, he was pretty sure Ms Goodwitch ran the place. She certainly looked the part.
A cough interrupted his train of thought.
"Walk with me Mister Arc," the Headmaster gestured with his head, his cane tapping lightly on the floor.
"...sure," he was not about to tell him no. Perhaps 'No, thanks' was an appropriate answer, who knows.
"You seem to have a lot in your mind," Ozpin said. For a Headmaster he was rather informal.
Now, Jaune had had a terrible week and was, at this point in time, not at all prepared to have a deep conversation. even less so with one of the most important persons of Remnant. So, while a normal response would be to tell him that he was acclimatizing to his situation, his body's mind-mouth connection decided to betray him.
"I faked my way into Beacon." that… that was what came out of his mouth.
The Headmaster didn't even break his stride, walking as if nothing had happened.
'Oh well, in for a lien' he thought "I didn't go to a combat school, I bought a set of fake transcripts to get in. I didn't even had my Aura unlocked. Things escalated, Pyrhaa unlocked my Aura, you made me captain of a Team." words continued to cascade out of him for a while ", I… I don't know... what should I do?"
"A lot on your mind indeed."
"You…," (respect Jaune, respect) "with all due respect sir, you don't seem surprised,"
"Indeed," he nodded "I was aware of the veracity, or lack thereof, of your transcripts. Although I must admit, I was unaware of the extent of your training." he took a small sip of his coffee. "I do have to correct you on one of your many, many, many accounts." Jaune had the slight suspicion that whatever it was in that cup was not coffee. "you did not 'fake your way into Beacon' as you put it. You, mister Arc, faked your way into Initiation,"
"I take it that's different?" He wasn't an expert on the matter but it sounded to him that the headmaster was trying to tell him something.
"Most certainly." He replied calmly as they made their way through the school's corridors. "The need for a combat academy's transcript is not the end-all be-all of the admission process. Beacon and, as a norm, all Huntsmen academies, accept prospective students from all walks of life." he stopped, gesturing at the courtyard just beyond the windows they were facing. It was getting late in the afternoon yet, students could still be seen. some jogging or training, others chatting and joking around. "What you fail to understand Mister Arc, is that just as you, not all students have had the privilege to receive conventional training or education."
"Then why…?" Jaune took a second to gather his thoughts, 'if transcripts are not necessary,'
"Casualties?" he asked out loud.
"Among other things, yes," they walked all the way to the elevator that worked the headmaster's office's door. "It is a sad fact that sometimes, be it by overconfidence or the nature of Grimm, prospective students lose their lives during Initiation. Participating is an incredibly high risk to take, albeit a necessary one. You see, all the training in the world means nothing in the vacuum. A Huntsman (or Huntress) needs more than just raw strength or technique. Adaptability, critical thinking, decision making, teamwork…" he shook his head "I digress. Yes, graduating from a combat academy was noted as a prerequisite. It served to stream-line the process, creating a baseline in both education and training. This, in turn, helped reduce student casualties and made sure that, should some of them fail, they'd be able to pursue a more mainstream career."
"But as you said, not everyone has access to training or education," Jaune added, getting the point.
"Precisely, and because of that, exceptions had to be made in order to get around it. Homeschooled/trained students can get certified at the student affairs office in Vale, for example. Or you could get recommended by a professional Huntsman. Your method, on one hand, was extremely underhanded, not to mention illegal. On the other hand, the falsified document was only meant as a form of protection and, to get one foot on the door, so to speak."
By that point, Jaune was as pale as he could get. Thankfully the headmaster seemed to have broached the whole thing under the rug.
"Despite what you might think, mister Arc, you are far from the first student to have ever been admitted without training. Although you might be the first to make it without Aura. Regardless, you earned your place as Team JNPR captain with your performance during Initiation." the Headmaster turned and looked at him right in the eyes. "And this, I believe, takes us to your original quarry. You don't know what to do now. You risked life and limb and managed to secure your place at the starting line. so, ask yourself, will you let this opportunity slip through your fingers? or will you use everything Beacon has to offer to become the Huntsman you envision yourself to be."
The answer was obvious, the flames he had stoked earlier growing to a raging inferno.
Having nothing else to say, the Headmaster stepped into his elevator and bade Jaune farewell.
'He's right,' Jaune thought, he had been boxing himself into a dangerous mindset. His own proven inferiority added to the crushing guilt of cheating his way in, had made him dismiss potential avenues for development. Ozpin may not have intended this way but he had said it. Use everything Beacon has to offer. Apart from teachers, training facilities and information, Beacon had given him something of far more value. His team.
'Time to suck it up and ask for help,' and with that last thought, he turned around and walked to his room, it was time to have a heart to heart with his new family.
A/N: I don't own Anything from the RWBY franchise.