This may be one of my more dark stories, but I do hope you enjoy it at least. Feedbacks always welcome!
It was supposed to be a nice day before the first punch nearly knocked Jaune off his feet. A real thick, meaty fist flew right against his ear. Had some wind-up to it as well, like the brute really meant every inch of it to hurt. His body slammed against the locker, slowly sliding down on his butt, ear obviously ringing louder than a church bell. Not even a second later, a boot pressed against his chest, pushing him deeper against the locker.
Jaune looked up. What honestly could he make of his vision? After that brutal assault, there was barely anything to see but four pudgy silhouetted blobs and a dancing array of purple dots. Those smudgy messes sported ear-to-ear grins. Jaune nearly snorted. Even with his vision stuck like this, he could barely tell the difference between them. Just four large bags of meat and muscle with a walnut between the eyes. One of the blobs leaned closer, just as Jaune's vision was starting to orient itself. Slicked back red-hair and downright evil sneer marred what could've been a good-looking face.
"C'mon, you aren't deaf, Vomit Boy," The blob named Cardin asked. Jaune croaked up a groan in the back of his throat, too tired to answer correctly. That earned him a good slap across the face. "Answer me, bitch boy."
"What?" Jaune managed.
"You ratted me out, man. You shouldn't have done that," Cardin said in a real condescending tone, as if telling off a petulant child. "That was a damn good prank too. All you had to do was fill the bucket, not tell Good-Bitch"
Jaune grimaced. Getting green paint splashed on Yang Xiao Long seemed more like a death sentence than anything else. "I didn't want another concussion." Yang would find some way to blame him. Someway. As sad as it was, this beating may as well be the lesser of two evils.
"You guys found anything yet?" Cardin called to his pattern, Dove, who was rummaging through Jaune's wallet.
"There's some Lien in here, but that's just about it." The brute replied, dangling the wallet upsidedown. A coin or two fell out. Again, Jaune nearly scoffed. What did they expect? This wasn't even the first time this week they cleared his wallet out.
His head lulled to one side. The halls were empty, outside of two or three scattered students. Two darted hastily to the nearest classroom, not wanting to deal with any of it. The last one just chortled and sauntered away. Jaune would have pleaded for him to come back if he wasn't already absolutely numb. He felt more impatience than fear. At this point, he just wanted this torment to end so he can count the hours before it started up again.
Jaune felt his wallet drop haphazardly onto his lap. He didn't bother to pick it up, only letting it slide down his leg and onto the ground. Reaching to pick it up could've been a trap for all he knew, wouldn't be the first time. A shadow loomed over him. He could feel Cardin's hot breath on his face. His nose crinkled. What a strong pungent onion smell that was. It was nearly enough to light his nose hairs on fire.
"You owe me big time, Bitch Boy, you know that?" Jaune's cheek was given yet another hard slap. "Huh? Huh? Don't you owe me?" Each word brought another slap to his numbing cheek. Hot tears started to sting Jaune's eyes. At this point, it was just humiliating, but his arms lay helpless to do anything about it. He was too weak, after all. "Do you? Huh?"
"Y-yeah, I do," He squealed. "I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" Cardin mimed in a simpering tone. "Well, great. See, we got a few parties to get to this week, and our homework's kinda in the way. Mind handling that?" For a moment, Jaune said nothing. Four groups of homework? That'd take away his entire weekend. Another slap to his face put the weekend plans on the backburner.
"Yeah, I-I'll do it." Jaune stammered. "Just leave me alone, alright?"
Cardin backed off, with a grin smug enough to earn a regional title. Heavy textbooks were dropped at his feet, some right on his ankle. "Well, shit. That's real nice of you. Make sure we got A's on those. If my dad catches me with anything less, it's coming out of your pocket." He slapped a few high fives with the boys, laughing and jeering down the hall at yet another 'hard-fought victory'.
Jaune sat on the ground for a few minutes, just staring at the ceiling. Was it possible to feel like you didn't have a soul in your body? That was the only way he could put how he felt at the moment, or really, didn't feel. A beam of sunset light prickled the corner of his eye, almost invigorating him. He stood up, collected all of his things, as well as CRDL's, and trudged to the nearest bathroom before anyone noteworthy could spot him.
A part of him was tempted to dump their goods into the trash can, but lord knows how badly he'd pay the price.
Jaune stared at his reflection, swearing up and down in his mind he was looking at a corpse. His face was pale, cheeks still red and puffy. His right cheek in particular was beaming red. All of it was hideable at least, outside of his right ear, which had gotten swollen and bruised. A quick tug on his loose, shaggy hair hides that ear just enough. Could've blamed it on poor grooming skills, among his other already poor skills.
What was he complaining about anyway? He deserved it. Every bit of it.
Satisfied, he dragged his feet to his dorm room, where luckily, Nora was already asleep, her batteries officially drained. Ren was reading a book, giving him a wave without looking away from it.
"Hey," Jaune replied, throwing on a smile. It almost hurt to do, his facial muscles were screaming in protest. Pyrrha was still gone. Probably off training. At least she wouldn't spot his latest injuries and start the interrogation. He collapsed onto his bed, and stared at the ticking clock, fighting off the urge to cry.
Should he tell Pyrrha? He felt a lump form in his throat at the idea. What would that do? Get her in trouble for starting a fight? Make her not leave him alone like he's some wounded puppy? Even worse, how big of an inconvenience would this be to her? His problems were his own, and he couldn't bear the thought of forcing them on someone else, or better yet, cry to the school to do something about it. That was downright humiliating, if not would make the bullying worse afterward.
No, all he wanted to do was sleep.
Jaune looked at the pile of books he dumped at the foot of his bed with disdain. So much of it, nearly enough to take up an entire week, let alone a weekend. Wasn't his grades already slipping? He couldn't think about it. The very thought of attacking that pile just drained the life out of him.
"Are you okay, Jaune?" Ren asked, peeking up from his book, looking just a little disturbed.
Jaune gnawed on his lip, head turned just away from Ren's point of view. Oh, the things he wanted to say, but he couldn't. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just really… really tired."
/
Combat class. A perfect place to test Jaune's skill of stealth. It was simple. Hide from the ever-watchful eyes of professor Goodwitch, and prevent an afternoon of humiliation on the battlefield. Keeping out of eye and earshot was paramount- he was the class underdog after all. Given the choice, the first of the students called would normally try to point him out as an opponent. An easy win against some useless idiot. The world's easiest A.
Sitting at the back or the front of the class was too obvious. Often, it was the random seats somewhere close to a corner that helped him blend in with the crowd. After that, it was a matter of waiting for the hour and a half class to end. Gods help him.
After all the regular combat drills and obstacle courses to keep their form up, it was on to one on one sparring. Hell was about to be offered to him in a handbasket if he didn't keep his head down, and for better or worse, it was working out. The students fought amongst themselves in ordered pairs, some taking longer than others. If he could just make it to the end of class, he could probably make it past with all of his limbs intact.
But like all things Jaune attempted, it failed with one good crack to the back of his head.
Jaune nearly fell out of his seat, head throbbing. He could almost feel a searing handprint right back there. Hot breath prickled the back of his neck. He grimaced. Couldn't he have some peace for five minutes?
"Why aren't you out there yet, Vomit Boy?" Cardin sneered.
Jaune chewed on the inside of his cheek. Just reign it in. Being pissed off wouldn't save him, and crying would just make it even worse. He thought of the peaceful spring sky, the birds chirping, the smell of fresh loaves of bread-
Slap.
Gingerbread men doing tapdances on a Christmas dinner plate-
Slap. Slap.
Just anything outside of this goddamn room.
Smack!
Jaune's eyes were starting to mist. Was nobody seeing this? No, the crowd was transfixed on Pyrrha dominating the battlefield, taking an entire team on her own again. It was relieving in a way though, that no one noticed. No one could deal with it for him. No one would laugh at him, or pity him.
"I'm tired," Jaune finally answered, head ringing from all the slapping. "Just leave me alone, man. I don't need this today."
Cardin's sneer only grew. "You're right. I'll tell you what you need. Some damn good exercise."
Jaune's face blanched. He wouldn't…
Cardin stood up before Jaune could even offer a plea. "Hey, teach! Can I take the last match? I wanna spar with my buddy!"
Jaune shuddered. Oh god, he was gonna be sick.
Ms. Goodwitch didn't look amused. "Shouting in the middle of my class? During a match, no less? If you wanted detention that badly, politely ask me instead."
It was cathartic watching Cardin go pale. Just a little. "Sorry, ma'am, I just wanted my match before class ended. Just to get my fight out of the way."
Jaune gave Ms. Goodwitch the most pleading look he could've given, but her attention was focused on Cardin. After a couple of seconds, she waved her hand dismissively. "Considering that it's Friday, fine. Your initiative is admirable, but consider your other students as well."
Jaune could've cried on the spot right there. The rug had been pulled right from under his heart, leaving it to plummet. Cardin sat back down after thanking Ms. Goodwitch, looking smug. Easy A. The cards were in Cardin's favor.
Nearly a minute later, the match was over. Pyrrha hadn't taken a single blow, as pure the repertoire of the Invincible Girl. The poor girl barely even looked fazed, or even attentive, looking at the challenge more like a chore. What he wouldn't give for that kind of strength. He stood up stiffly as the grounds cleared, and gave her a thumbs-up before making his way to the center of the arena.
Oh god, his legs were shaking. He could barely stand upright. Everyone's eyes were all over him, almost like they could just sense the crap-show in progress. He kept his eyes to his shoes, where they belonged. Crocea Mors felt like it weighed a ton in his hand. Can something just get him out of this ring? A sudden Grimm attack, a freaking meteor, anything.
"Hey, Jauny-boy, focus," Cardin called, somehow expertly hiding that smug grin behind an almost gentle stare. Hand it to him, he was a master at deception, or the people around him simply didn't care.
"The rules are as followed. You will both fight until your aura meters have gone into the red. Do not break anothers aura, or you will be disqualified. Attempted injury if said aura has been depleted, or close to depletion will result in disciplinary action, or in severe cases, listed as attempted assault or murder," Glynda explained in the same strict, terse tone she always took with these rules. "Remember, this is a combative assignment and friendly spar. This is not a place to 'settle any scores'. Begin-"
Suddenly, the wind had been knocked out of Jaune. A kick right between the ribs, from heavy greaves no less. The call was barely out of Goodwitch's mouth and Jaune was already sprawled on his ass, trying to catch is breath.
"Come on, man! We've been practicing for weeks, now you should be better than this!"
That damn sneer. Jaune wanted so bad to just hack that wormy smile right off of his face. He scrambled back to his feet. He was already panting, legs and arms stiff as a board and shaking. Cardin feined a lunge and Jaune fell for it, nearly falling back on his ass in retreat.
"Dude, you gonna hit me, or what?" He called, spreading his arms out with a wicked little grin.
Teeth grit, Jaune cried out in frustration and swung wildly. The first two weren't even in range. A few careful steps avoided the others. High, low, overhead, Jaune swung at anything he could reach, but he might as well have been hitting a wall. He swung madly for Cardin's waistline, but his blade was bounced away from a glancing blow of his mace. Twisting his hip into the blow, Cardin finally struck back.
Crack! The blonde knight sailed away, landing two meters away. A burning pain seared the left side of his ribs. That blow had nearly torn his chest plate apart. He seized up, gasping for air again, trying to realign himself.
The sound of rushing flames caught his attention. He turned his head just in time to see a pillar of orange fire sailing right for his head. He dived out of the way, the flames barely missing his hair, and rolled to his feet. The onslaught wasn't over. Cardin was charging like a mad bull, mace raised high above his head. Jaune froze right there on the spot, knees shaking.
Why couldn't his aura be in the red already?
He hid behind his shield as the blows came one by one, each harder than the last. His arm screamed from the effort of keeping his defense up, but what else could he do? He had no options, as far as he knew.
Suddenly, out of his vision, the mace struck one of his knees, making him cry out in pain and sink to the floor. He looked up, one hand clutching his knee, his other frantically reaching for the shield that had clattered out of his hands. His sword was forgotten, somewhere a few meters away. With a sadistic smile on his face, Cardin raised his mace above his head again.
"Worthless piece of shit."
"That's enough."
Goodwitch's voice echoed like thunder, freezing every in the roo in place. Her word was law, after all. When she speaks, you listen. Even a monster like Cardin. He eased his mace down, sagging it listlessly and looking a little disappointed.
Jaune peeked up at the screen. Did she call it prematurely? His aura was still in the green. Was class over? Maybe she was cutting the match short for class reasons. Then reality splashed him like cold water. It wasn't a match, it was a slaughter. Pyrrha was gripping her seat, white-knuckled and tense. He would have to spend some time talking her down later on. He sighed, leaning his head back down, realizing only just now he was coated in sweat.
"Cardin, your technique is far lacking. While your defenses are well kept, your aggression is that of a caveman," Goodwitch scolded. "Exercise caution, or you will exhaust yourself, among other things. As for you, Jaune Arc." His throat seized up at the mention of his name. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Stay after class. We have things we need to discuss."
/
Jaune stayed in his seat while the class cleared out, eyes right back on his shoes. His body ached- a few smacks from a spiked metal mallet would do that to you. Ms. Goodwitch rummaged through a few papers, muttering to herself, occasionally peeking up at Jaune.
"You do realize that's your seventh loss in a row?"
Jaune said nothing.
"How long do you intend to keep up this streak? As I recall, your previous victory was by default. A stomach ache, was it? The day you were supposed to fight Ruby Rose?" Goodwitch inquired.
Oh, that's what it was. The day was a bit hazy, but he recalled that she looked very pale and rushed out of the room to find a bucket. The poor girl had tried one of Ren's mythical concoctions he calls tea and spent the day trying to get it back out. Bright side, her skin looked amazing the rest of the week. Thinking about it nearly made him laugh. Nearly.
"I… guess I'm just unlucky." He managed. Unlucky? Or he just sucked.
"You do understand that you're failing this class, correct?" She said without a hint of remorse. That hit like a ton of bricks, right on what little self-worth he had. "Out of over a hundred students, you're one of the only ones with a negative combat record. At this rate, I'm wondering how you made it in."
"Maybe that's where all my luck went." Jaune tried to joke.
Ooh that glare was sharper than any weapon that's ever entered this room. "This isn't funny, Jaune. Combat is essential to being a Huntsman. If your record does not improve, you will not pass this class. Unfortunately, that will result in your departure from this school."
"I… understand." Jaune croaked, gripping a hole into his jeans. "I'll just see myself out."
His hands shook when he gripped the door handle. Being kicked out never felt as real as it did now. He could lose everything he worked for. All his friends, his record, his dreams, but then again, what did it matter when most of it was built off lies?
"Arc."
Did the air just speak to him? Jaune looked side to side… then down. Right into the eyes of an angry monarch, ready to skewer him if he implied she was anything other than tall. Weiss blocked his path, arms crossed, still wearing her school uniform.
"Oh, hey Weiss," He managed. "Did you need something-"
"You," she said swiftly, taking his hand. "Come with me."