Chapter 3: Rough Start
Every story has a happy ending, but not all of them have a happy beginning.
Yang made sure to save Ruby a spot in the assembly room, but to her dismay, her sister didn't seem to materialize out of the crowd. She wasn't having trouble finding Yang, right? It should be easy. Yang's blonde hair stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of… weird, black silhouettes. Yang shuddered as she tried to locate a human being that wasn't made of whatever molten Grimm sauce all the weirdos surrounding her were.
Yang made out three boys engaged in idle chit chat with one another. Well, it was really one boy saying something – oh fuck, was that the Vomit Comet? – while the other two nodded along. Yang wasn't sure she wanted the vomit on her shoes to be garnished with a topping of puke, but the bronze haired boy seemed kind of cute. The third boy's face was certainly easy on the eyes, but his bright green mohawk and shredded clothes made Yang want to double check that Bumblebee's nonexistent doors were locked.
Yang sighed. It didn't matter who won the hottest male eye candy contest. It was all a moot point since Dad would hunt down any of them if they so much as breathed in Yang's presence.
Dad.
Dad, who was in Patch.
Dad, who was in Patch, which was hundreds of miles away.
Yang sauntered over to the triad of handsomeness and wrapped her arms around Bronzielocks and the Grimmch, dragging all eyes to her in an instant. Heavie Wonder trailed off whatever inane story he was telling (something about definitely certainly most assuredly having fought Grimm before) when he saw that he was no longer the center of his boyfriends' attention.
"And then Vomitus Maximus unleashed his weaponized spew upon the enemy, vanquishing them instantly and earning him endless praise and the virginities of several young women. So, what're a couple of fine young men doing without a lady to keep you in line?"
"Arc was just recounting a story of his past endeavors to Thrush and me before you interrupted him. Who, might I ask, are you?"
"Yang Xiao-Long. But you boys can just call me momma."
"I am Dove Bronzewing. I am unsure from where in Remnant you hail, but Valean culture typically frowns upon cutting someone off while they speak. Furthermore, I personally consider it poor form to resort to such disparaging names. Prosperity, Xiao-Long."
With his kinda weird introduction and super weird farewell complete, Dove gingerly removed Yang's arm from his shoulder, bowed briefly, and led vomit boy away. The other one, Thrush, nodded in agreement at Dove's rebuke and joined his friends. As they walked away, vomit boy looked over his shoulder, and Yang got a brief look at the dejected look on his face.
Aw, fuck. She was the bad guy here, wasn't she?
"Wait, wait. I'm sorry about the name-calling and the interrupting. I'm not a complete dick, I swear. Can we start over?"
Dove was clearly unimpressed, but vomit boy spoke up. "It's fine, guys. I did throw up on her, so a little friendly ribbing is probably overdue. Besides, it wasn't like I had anything interesting to say back there. She probably did me a favor by stopping me from yammering on all day."
He rubbed the back of his neck and reached out a hand to Yang. "The name's Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue. Ladies love it."
Yang giggled as she took the outstretched hand and shook it enthusiastically. She felt quite pleased with herself for salvaging the situation. Meat was still on the menu. With vomi– Jaune's approval, Thrush patted Yang on the back. Dove bowed again, this time sincerely rather than dismissively.
Yang asked, "How do you fellas know each other?"
Dove said, "Thrush and my families have been close for several generations. Arc seemed to be alone on the bullhead, so we elected to make his acquaintance. The three of us have agreed to collaborate during the initiation in hopes of uniting as a huntsman team."
"Wait, do you seriously think that a–" Yang caught herself just before she threw away the goodwill she'd built with the three by sounding patronizing. Fuck, that was close. Her eyes flickered between the boys nervously, hoping that none of them were offended.
"You need not exercise unnecessary caution if your comment bears no intentional malice. Like Arc said, we do not mind teasing if the spirit is good natured. Please speak freely."
"What I mean was, teams at Beacon typically consist of four members. Not three, like you fine gentlemen have."
Thrush elbowed Yang and grinned. "You volunteerin'?"
"Dust yeah! What should our team's name be? I'll definitely be the leader, so we need to start thinking of words that start with Y or X. Maybe Ruby has some ideas–"
Yang's smile dropped as a wave of shame crashed over her. She'd completely forgotten about her sister. "A-Actually, I can't. My sister and I are going to be partners. It's already been decided by the school."
"That's too bad," said Jaune. "I know you would've made a great leader for us, Yang. You've got confidence, and my dad says–"
The buzz a microphone powering on interrupted Jaune, and an aged man began to speak.
"I'll keep this brief," began the headmaster.
This had to be divine punishment. That was the only explanation. The Brother Gods had seen fit to torment Blake for her mortal sins by cramming her in a dusty ballroom with three dozen smelly, noisy, downright obnoxious teenagers. She'd asked the Deputy Headmistress about finding alternate sleeping arrangements, but apparently all other rooms were restricted until initiation was complete. She'd slept in damp caves and searing deserts during White Fang missions, but this had to take the crab cake.
Her spirits had improved briefly when Professor Goodwitch agreed to give her something to help her read in the dark. When the woman handed Blake a candelabra, she realized that her damnation could not be so easily escaped.
Not that Blake needed a light source to read. The ambient moonbeams were enough for her night vision to make out the words on the page, but it would seem quite suspicious for a new student to be reading in the darkness. Rather, it would be suspicious for a human student to be reading in the darkness.
"Excuse me."
Her book was finally getting to the good part. The man with two souls was about to meet his archrival on the battleground.
"Ahem. Excuse me."
What a twist! The archrival turned out to be no other than his long-lost brother, who had four souls. And a katana so long it touched the ground…
"Miss. I am speaking to you."
Blake sighed and put down her novel. "What is it, Schnee?" she hissed.
Even with her arms crossed and her expression as cold as the Atlesian wastes, Weiss did not look as intimidating as she clearly thought she was. The pajamas didn't do her any favors.
"Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company. On behalf of my family and the institution its name represents, allow me–"
"Let me stop you right there, Schnee. I know who you are, and I don't want to be your playmate, bosom buddy, or whatever it is you seem to think you deserve from me."
"–allow me to apologize for any rudeness I displayed to you earlier, unintentional or otherwise. But if you've no interest, I won't waste your time. You're clearly very busy with your leisure reading."
Weiss shook her head haughtily and did an about-face, retreating to a sleeping bag with a gaudy white SDC snowflake logo embroidered on its blue fabric. Blake picked up her novel and resumed where she'd left off.
There was no need to befriend the spoilt heiress. There was no need to befriend anyone. She couldn't afford to. She just needed to keep any chipper schoolgirls looking for a BFF at an arm's length, get through her time at Beacon, and move on.
Blake started reading once more. The man with two souls embraced his brother, choosing to forget past conflicts in favor of reconciliation and a brighter future.
Suddenly, the comforting feeling of a good book wasn't quite so comforting. Blake closed her book and blew out her candelabra, but even in the darkness she couldn't hide away from the muffled sobs coming from the blue and white sleeping bag.
Omake
Dove: It was quite rude of you to interrupt Arc so abruptly with your opening speech, Headmaster. Regardless, might I inquire as to your name so that I may address you appropriately?
Ozpin: Ozpin.
Dove: Is that your first name or last name?
Ozpin: My first name was Ozma. Ozpin is my most recent name.
Next Chapter: A Peaceful Morning – Just a peaceful morning for Ren and some painful memories for Glynda.