{Weiss is hiding something. So does Blake have an ulterior motive or are she and Weiss really just harmless schoolgirl lovers? ...Well, never mind the harmless part though.}
{"We all have secrets to hide, Jaune…"}
"Humans!" bellows the professor the second that Jaune steps into the packed classroom a couple minutes late to class.
{Welp that secret didn't take very long to un-hide. RUUUUUUN.}
His body just says {nope} and freezes up, deer-in-headlights style.
"Are not the enemy!" the professor continues, her beady eyes sweeping the packed classroom and never once locking onto the terrified boy in the very back. Her normal speaking voice appears to be everybody else's at-the-top-of-your-lungs volume too, so it's not like she was yelling at him in particular. "For though our civilizations, our cultures, our very minds! have developed differently over the course of centuries!, the fact of the matter is that we still share ancestry with homo sapiens! This! allows us to understand and emphasize with them to a certain extent! Does that answer your question?!"
The head and bust of a student wearing a blue tie fizzles into the holospace behind the professor. "Okay!" the Dragon member chortles, running a hand through his white hair. "But I still think this class should be an elective, nya ha ha!"
A black sphere blips into existence onto the side of the holospace, sending a single ripple outward. When the professor selects it by poking a finger at her synchronized scroll at the podium, the sphere in the holospace expands into the bespectacled head and shoulders of a student from Tortoise.
{Huh it's like the high-tech version of raising your hand.}
"What I don't understand," the girl growls, aggressively leaning forward, "Is why we're suddenly now all buddy-buddy with humans. Like, I understand that there's no reasoning with the Grimm. They don't change. But humans are pretty much the same way. Look at Fort Hospice. We saw just what human words were worth then. Why should we believe them now?"
"That's a very good question!" their teacher declares. "And a perfect transition into today's discussion! But first! The Eastern Dragon student in the back! You should be wearing your school jacket! I'll have to mark you down for improper dress! Now would you please kindly find a seat?!"
Blood fills Jaune face as every head in the classroom swivels like miniature synchronized cogwheels on a larger machine to look at him. He almost dissolves into a puddle of sweat, unsure of how to reply, when—
"Over here, dimwit," Cardin growls, standing from his spot in not-the-back-but-almost-there row of the classroom. "I've got your jacket here."
Jaune practically dribbles down the stairs in a hot mess of sweaty relief… until he reaches the row Cardin's seated at. Though the Boar is definitely offering Jaune his dry-cleaned jacket, an empty seat is not included in the deal. The Boar realizes Jaune's false assumption at this time as well, glaring at him with a frustrated give-me-a-break look, before placing a hand on the shoulder of a brunette next to him and giving him a small shove. "Scram, punk," he growls threateningly.
{He can't seriously expect me to—}
Jaune can't tell if the brunette's eyes are actually closed or if he's just squinty… but when he angles his face at Jaune, he visibly reacts. Squinty, then.
Squinty bows. He doesn't just incline his head; his entire torso angles forward, just like the blue-haired guy had done an hour ago. What is this even? Are there faunus out there who think he's some kind of god of chaos or something?
{Don't answer that.}
"Only for you, Master," Squinty says, sliding off his seat and settling on the floor.
{NO. SHUT UP.}
Jaune's scroll beeps once. The classroom holospace reacts to that signal, pixels forming themselves into his general student profile for the entire class to see. "Ah! The infamous Jaune Arc of Lemming!" the professor muses. "I have heard much of you! I even have a seat riiiight behind the podium for the great and late students—"
Jaune finds his butt planted firmly in Squinty's recently vacated seat before the professor is done speaking. Hey, if the brunette is offering so humbly, who is Jaune to turn it down? An offering to a perverted god…
{What is my life even?}
"Moving on! Fort Hospice! Among the members of Dragon and Tortoise whom we have here!, do we have any who participated in that fateful battle?!"
Jaune sits up, all ears, as a couple blue and black spheres appear in the holospace. A few project miniature heads of the faunus they represent; Pyrrha's is not one of them.
"Quite a sizeable few!" the professor observes. "Now, let's do a quick recap on the significance of the Battle of Fort Hospice, shall we?!"
When she selects a black sphere from the holospace, the rest of the spheres are minimized as the student's face and basic student profile is broadcasted in large. The girl nervously plays with her hair when she realizes just how big her projection is; her eyes water visibly as she squeaks, "Fort Hospice was the, um, medical facility that had the Sea of Dragons." Her voice trickles down to a whisper as she grows more and more embarrassed.
"The Sea of Dragons!" emphasizes their teacher upon realizing that the Tortoise student won't say another word. "Somebody summarize what that is!"
"In faunus mythology," answers a smart-looking student, "The Dragon clan first arose from the steady sea to watch over the turbulent lands. Long story short, the Sea of Dragons is the essence of those oceans, crystallized within raw Dust. Dragons need to visit it on the fifth month of every year."
"Very good," the professor praises. "The Sea of Dragons is a focal point of spiritual energy because of that!, able to absorb and replenish lifeforce as necessary! Dragons need to 'refuel' on the Sea of Dragons yearly to maintain their enormous firepower! How General Legume discovered this fact!, which has been kept secret for generations!, as well as the location of Fort Hospice, is still up for debate—"
"Cat did it!" somebody shouts.
"You dolt!" another voice retorts. "It was a Stray who did it."
At least three voices angrily counter this—and in the ensuing uproar, Jaune can't hear a thing. He takes the opportunity to actively search the classroom for any signs of his redheaded friends, but too many faunus are standing up now and brandishing their scrolls at each other for Jaune to spot much. As he settles back into his seat, however, he does spot how Cardin's hands clench into fists out of the corner of his eye.
"Ouch," remarks a voice from beneath him.
{Holy Light I just stepped on some guy's hand where did he even come fr—oh hai, it's Squinty.}
How could he forget about this guy? It's just… the brunette was so quiet, and the war information so interesting, that Jaune had forgotten all about the guy who'd given up his seat for him. "I am so sorry," he apologizes. "I—do you want your seat back?"
"There is no need, Master," Squinty says deferentially, tilting his head forward again in a respectful bow. "It is my pleasure to sit at your feet."
"Call me Jaune," he says nervously. "Master is just all sorts of weird and—oh. What's your name?"
"Bronzewing, at your service. For you, I will flip a hundred skirts—"
"Uh you really don't have—wait, what did you say?"
"I've had enough of these useless words!" roars the bespectacled girl from earlier, leaping onto her table and readying herself to pounce upon a Tortoise student three rows down. A tail unravels itself from underneath her skirt as her back arches concavely. A couple of the guys and a girl or two in rows behind her blatantly ogle.
{Hey, why doesn't anybody call them out?}
Meanwhile, her opponent snatches a nearby arsenal of weapons (a.k.a. her neighbor's pencil bag), holding several sparkly colored pens between her knuckles like Wolverine claws. "Do your worst!" she screams. "I'll color you red!"
"I don't need ink to make you black and blue!"
"Hey, those pens were really expensi—"
"Arrrrhhh RAAAAAGE!"
{Hm. Faunus politics at its finest.}
"THERE WILL BE NO COLORING!" the professor snaps at the top of her lungs, which is pretty much blows out Jaune's puny human hearing. He can vaguely hear students settling into their seats, but it's like somebody's stuffed cotton in his ears.
{At least the professor's voice is at a normal volume now...}
"There will be no fighting. I assure you that you will have plenty of time for all the girl-on-girl action you want out of these doors, but in this hour that you spend within this classroom, within any classroom, you are expected to remain within your seats at all times. Violence will not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?"
Murmured nods from all around.
"Now, the Cat Clan's dishonorable discharge from the Zodiac for what was most likely an individual's actions is still under contention," the professor continues at a tolerable volume {I should really get my ears checked}. "Hence the Rabbit's place in the Zodiac is still temporary. Until a perpetrator who leaked Fort Hospice's position comes forward or is captured, we cannot proceed in the condemnation of Cat."
While that traitorous Cat tidbit of info isn't exactly a secret to most faunus, it is new news to Jaune. Okay. Does that have anything to do with why Blake is fairly quiet and withdrawn and of few friends? She'd seemed fairly motivated to help him their first day together… but she's pretty much ignored him since then in favor of Weiss. Rumor has it that she doesn't hang out with anybody other than the heiress Schnee. Not like a groupie either, but if not a lover, then at least a genuine friend.
At least she sent Penny his way. Light, Penny. As far as he can tell, Penny is incapable of deceit. He hasn't come across a reason to second-guess her, thankfully. But everybody else…
Like Cardin. This weird not-friendship thing here. His just-dry-cleaned jacket feels brand-spankin' new and nice, completely free of the stickiness of orange juice. Still, after half a million summer camp pranks, Jaune had wanted to check it for booby traps; unfortunately, Cardin had offered him the jacket in front of the entire class, and the professor had invited him to sit in the very front of the classroom, so Jaune really hadn't had a chance to check for cockroaches hiding in the pockets or itching powder along the neckline before putting the coat on. But hey, half an hour into the class and he hasn't broken out into hives yet, so that's got to be a good indicator towards Cardin's sincerity, right?
Still, this Big Friendly Giant persona doesn't mesh with the aggressive boar guard he'd encountered on his first day here. And that initiation duel against Velvet. That Cardin had been hostile and ruthless and powerful. This guy on anger management, doing nice things for somebody he barely knows?
Is there a hidden agenda in the Malachites' plan as well? A reason for Miltia to unblock his chakra and give him an unidentified vial of Dust, and then disappear off the face of the earth afterwards? A reason why Melanie doesn't seem all too concerned about her twin's absence when she sits with her white-clad groupies during meals?
{You're right, Blake… everybody really does have their own secrets to hide. Especially me... so should I really try to poke into other people's businesses when I'm trying to hide mine?}
He sneaks a glance over at Cardin. The guy has his scroll open to the professor's presentation on basic human history and its role in exploring human sociology throughout the years (which thankfully doesn't seem to be too biased; no major glaring misinformations yet). However, the guy himself… is tearing pages out of a small diary-like book of Bronzewing's, folding them into paper footballs, and flicking them at the back of other faunus' heads.
"Umph!" squeaks a girl as a paper projectile hits its mark. "Hey—!"
"Do you have something to add to the lesson?" the professor scowls.
The girl turns, her eyes immediately zeroing in on Jaune. "A pathetic Stray thought it would be cute to toss paper at the back of my head," she snarls.
He doesn't have the time to wonder what a Stray is, spat out of the girl's mouth like a disgusting name, before Cardin rears to his feet and freakin' flips the table. Jaune barely manages to snatch his scroll off the long shared desk before it topples, but other faunus aren't so lucky as their drinks and pens are showered upon others in lower rows. "Take that back," he roars. It's sort of a good thing that Jaune's ears aren't working too well right now. "Take that back."
{Well that's the Cardin I know and quite possibly love. Because, seriously, what sort of guy would go through such lengths to defend—}
The name-caller also rockets to her feet, bellowing, "Nobody likes a Stray, especially the double-crossing coward type!"
{Okay, not talking about me then. ...Sadface.}
Squinty yanks Jaune out of the chair right before a bulked-up Cardin heaves said chair over his head and lobs it at the girl with the same unerring accuracy that he'd used to peg Jaune in the face with an apple at breakfast. As he topples down on top of his savior, Jaune notices how everybody else has hit the floor {oh yeah, forgot about the protocol on fights in public spaces.}
The chair abruptly changes paths in midair, intercepting the retaliatory swarm of flying sparkly pens offered as return fire from Cardin's opponent. Jaune immediately spots Pyrrha near the front of the room, her hands held up high as she manipulates the steel to the floor; then she's back down again, putting herself out of harm's way.
Suddenly, her declaration of being a lancer and tossing around metal things starts making a lot more sense.
Oh, that's not good. The professor has drawn what looks awfully a lot like a tranquilizer gun from underneath her podium. Cardin dry-cleaned his coat; returning the favor by preventing the Boar from getting shot on the first day of classes is a fair enough trade, right?
Trusting Pyrrha to cover his back, Jaune pushes himself off of Squi—erm, Bronzewing—and leaps up in front of Cardin. "Cardin, stop!"
"I didn't follow the human because I was scared!" Cardin thunders, spontaneously putting on like another ten pounds of muscle in two seconds flat. He grabs another metal chair—this one crunches and deforms underneath his grip—and takes a threatening step forward, roughly shunting Jaune to the side. "And you have no business as to why I came back."
Jaune doesn't give up, latching on like a puny human to Cardin's meaty arm. "Remember what Melanie said!" he yelps as the Boar tries to shake him off.
"Too late for that," the guy rumbles back. Okay, whoa, wasn't expecting that. He's not in a completely mindless rage. That's good. What now…
"You gonna strike me down just like you did to your human, traitor?" the girl taunts, the only other faunus still standing in the room. "Or are you going to stand down like a coward?"
That sounds like a can of worms that Jaune doesn't particularly want to dive into. He shouts the first thing off the top of his mind in a desperate attempt to divert Cardin's attention: "Punch me in the face!"
Cardin actually stops and turns to look at him like he's grown another head.
An awkward pause stretches on between the two of them. Throughout the entire classroom, actually; he forgot that there are maybe a hundred students on the ground, listening in on his Stupid Idea of the Day. Ha. He really should be smashing his forehead against the nearest wall. Maybe Cardin punching him might have the same effect…? "Punch me in the face," Jaune repeats as confidently as possible, hopping in front of the Boar and spreading his arms wide. "Remember when you missed my face and cracked a wall instead? Well, it's never too late to hit me now! If you can make me pay for my stupidity two hours after the fact, you can definitely settle with this idiot after class."
Cardin stares at him for what feels like a tense eternity. Out of the corner of his eye, Jaune sees that the professor hasn't made a move yet—but the tranq gun is still out, still trained on Cardin. He can't see the girl, since she's directly behind him, but he has a pretty good idea of her game plan: taunt Cardin until he throws the first punch, then probably accuse him of assault afterwards. With yet another reason for Jaune to sidetrack Cardin, he waits tensely, holding his position between the two opposing students.
Cardin drops the warped chair. And then, because his bulked-up form is maybe two feet taller than Jaune is, he lightly brings his fist down on top of Jaune's head. It's a lot more like a lovetap, really. "I'll escort myself to the office," he rumbles, lumbering towards the classroom exit.
{Welp... that was definitely a First Day of Class like none other.}
The introductory lesson to human sociology had actually displayed the opposite to Jaune quite well: faunus sociology. Though they were a people compelled towards action over words, they could still be relatively civil. He can probably work with this. Maybe even not die.
"You're crazy and I thought you were going to die," Pyrrha comments bluntly as they walk out of the classroom. Like everything else around him, her words sound as if they've wandered through a foot of water before reaching his ears. He thence finds himself searching her face for visual cues to catch her drift, which results in him not actually looking at where he's headed. He figures Pyrrha will pull him back before he walks into anything too pointy. "Asking Cardin to punch you in the face, Jaune?"
"I didn't think he actually would..." When Pyrrha raises an eyebrow, he amends, "Okay, according to my calculations, there was a 30% chance that he wouldn't go violent. I mean, he offered to dry-clean my coat for a reason, right? So I took the gamble."
"Calculations, huh?"
"I'm smart like that," he grins, nudging her with an elbow playfully. Light, there are so many things he keeps noticing about her now that he has to rely on senses other than sound—like how even her upper torso is like 80% hard muscle. "Math and English were my favorite subjects. 'For the word is sharper than any double-edged sword, cutting between soul and spirit to expose the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.'"
The Tigress tilts her head contemplatively. "Good thing I've got you as my tutor then. I never had the time to educate myself on the battlefield, never mind get into poetry."
Jaune mentally blanks for a moment. {Whoops, most everybody here went to war, not school… that's really depressing.} "Um… that, uh, came from some spiritual book of my dad's. I didn't write it."
"Still, your education is commendable. You're definitely a good fit for the Eastern Direction."
{Huh, she even has dimples when she frowns. Frimples?}
"Though the rule-breaking isn't," she continues. "That message is probably your disciplinary warning."
"What message?" His cheerful mood quickly fades as he checks his scroll; sure enough, a mail icon blinks on the release button. "Thanks for catching that. I think the professor blew out my eardrums."
The redhead closes her eyes a little too long to be a blink. "You know you can moderate the airspace around your seat, right?"
"Huh?"
"You can use your scroll to emit low-end negating sound waves. Basically, a volume control function. Only in classrooms, libraries, study hall, et cetera."
{When did this scroll become a sonic screwdriver and how can I take it back to Vytal with me?}
It takes him a moment, but he finally snaps out of his awestruck stupor to open the message.
Jaune Arc of Lemming, please come down to the main office by 12:00 to acknowledge and register your first warning.
"But I didn't participate in the fight," he complains, directing pleading puppy eyes at Pyrrha. "I actually broke it up! Why am I getting punished?"
"The classrooms count as public spaces, so they fall partially underneath the city's jurisdiction." Pyrrha frowns at him reproachfully. "It's very possible to start all-out battle royales from individual duels, so there are safety protocols in place to prevent students from destroying campus."
Jaune glances churlishly at Pyrrha's scroll. "Hold on. Didn't you get involved too?"
She grins softly, leaning over his shoulder to read his message. Her waist-length ponytail rolls off her back and swings wide in front of the two of them, bringing with it a tiny puff of perfume and natural body odor that is surprisingly pleasant {and that observation isn't creepy at all STOP THINKING.} "You initiated an action by grabbing onto Cardin," she explains. "I ended one of his actions to prevent others from getting hurt. But actually, if the school is calling you down to the front office, it's probably to get your warning acquitted. In other words, take this as a verbal pre-warning. So you should make a good impression and head down there as soon as possible. I'll catch you at lunch?"
{Okay, that's a lot better.} "Don't forget to set your scroll to visible," he reminds, "Otherwise I won't be able to find you."
Pyrrha gives him a two-fingered salute and shoves him in the direction of the front office (and he would know, seeing as he just came from that direction after getting his new set of clean clothes). "Com'on, off with you."
"Fine, fine, I'm going, Mom."
He doesn't miss the glare Pyrrha shoots his way as he turns away. He stores that in his mind as potential teasing material and moves against the flow of traffic headed towards the cafeteria. He's definitely going to be late for lunch. Maybe he can steal some of Nora's food instead of waiting in line; she somehow manages to sneak thirds despite the school's attempted maintenance of its students' diets.
Of course, it just so happens that he is all by himself in a deserted hallway when Miltia finally makes a reappearance, her clear-as-crystal voice cutting through the cotton in his ears.
[Remember me?]