Chapter 5: How I Lost My Virginity in the Lost & Found

"Nope! You're a leader now, Jaune. You're not allowed to be a failure."

— 6 —

The thing about waking up in somebody else's body isn't the culture shock or the violation of your previous understanding of reality. If anything, that's the fun, exciting part. You feel a sense of lachesism, a looming sense of comfort in the wake of a disaster. All your old worries are done, replaced by existential dread and knowledge that Lady Death is prepping the lube.

Them's the easy things.

What no one ever thinks about is how nothing ever feels like it's yours, not because you're in a strange world, but because it all smells wrong. You know how your own bedroom doesn't smell like anything to you, how your bed has that slightly comforting aroma of your own body. Then you walk into another room and you can't stop noticing how it smells lived-in, smells of the other person.

That's what it's like in an unfamiliar body. Every object you own, everything you wear, hell even the bed you sleep in, it all smells like "you do not belong here."

Which is why it's important to vigorously spray everything with tacky male body spray so everyone else has to suffer with you.

The aerosol scent of gasoline and leather boots choked Shadow Person awake in a coughing fit. God bless you, cheap cologne from the shitty gas station at the edge of town.

"What the fuck, dude?" he wheezed. And yes, Shadow Person was a boy today, despite the fact that like twenty minutes and an argument with Ruby Rose ago he was a girl.

"Congratulations, Shadow Person," I whispered loudly. "By waking up first you've won the grand prize."

"Lung cancer?" he said, rubbing his eyes. When he sat up, there was no cutiepie nightie from before. Just a white undershirt and underwear.

"I thought about what you said and need your teamwork-y help."

Shadow sniffed and squinted at me skeptically. "And your idea of teamwork starts with waking me up with a warcrime. Great to see you're such a good learner."

I sat down at the foot of his bed and he immediately kicked me onto the floor. I grunted and rubbed my ass. "Look, I need someone to back me up today for something. Won't take more than maybe an hour. No fighting needed, just someone to claim I'm not lying. We'll be back in time for class. Trust me, man. I haven't led you astray for hours."

"Scale of one to ten, how retarded this gonna be?" he asked slowly.

"About a solid two if it works, eight it doesn't. Average of six."

"And your plan is…?"

"Uhhh, shut up," Weiss whined miserably, face-down in her pillow.

I put a finger to my mouth. "Five minutes," I whispered before he could argue. "C'mon!"

I grabbed my things and left the room.

— 7 —

"'Member last night how I was saying you were an asshole and not at all charming?" Shadow said as he fidgeted with his top hat. Male or female, Shadow always looked like the cross between Mad Moxxi and the original Harley Quinn.

"Look, I am a reformed boy now," I said shamelessly. "Spent the whole night brainstorming ways to bring the team together. Besides being literally anybody else but myself, easiest way to do that is me not dying."

"I can't do jack with your aura."

I shouldered my way out the front door and into the morning light. "No, not that. I'm talking weapons. Gear."

He squinted. "Where's your sword and shield?"

"Not on me. It's part of the ruse."

"Oh great, you want me to be the shill in some scam," he said.

I waved a hand. "Pff. Ain't nobody gon' be hurt. If anything we'll be doing a community service."

"Putting you behind bars like the menace to society you are?"

"Putting the White Fang behind bars, but that's later," I said with a grin.

"Oh of course. Bunch of teenagers stopping an international terrorist organization. I'm sure an heiress, an antisocial bookworm, an addict, and me can do what Interpol can't."

I blinked. "Wait, you got Interpol in this world?"

"What do you mean 'in this world'?"

"I mean you really need to look at the glass half-full, Shadow," I said quickly. "Look at us, two guys out on the school. Or one guy and one gender-neutral shadow-identifying individual out on the school."

"Why does every conservation with you feel like a net loss?"

"Because friendship is a matter of give and take and I am pickpocket. Anyhow, we're here!"

With a name like 'The Susebron Student Center (SSC),' I had difficulty imagining how Beacon's multi-story student center related at all to a color. Maybe it was the name of some old rich family who'd donated to the school once upon a time before everyone had a color name. Or Warbreaker was lurking somewhere in Vale. Either way, the normal campus' student center found itself nearly empty this early, having just opened. I'm told that on the fourth floor is a space dedicated to trading card games and video gaming with friends.

I dragged Shadow along directly to the left, past the Lightsong Bros' Bagels shop. While it seemed the school mess hall provided free feels to students, that didn't mean students with cash to sling couldn't get something more to their taste.

"Why are we going to the help desk?" Shadow asked wearily.

"Relax, man. Just roll with it," I said quietly. Then, with a smile: "Hi! So, I'm a complete klutz and lost some stuff of mine here awhile back and only just got told there's a lost & found here in the SSC."

The short girl with red eyes and a blue beret who'd been idly spinning in her chair before we arrived came to a pause. Her nametag claimed she was 'Cards.' She blinked the dizziness away before turning her attention to me.

"I mean I've been told things about the student center too," she said conspiratorially. There was this slight scratchy quality to her voice like she'd perpetually just gotten out of bed. "The guy who works the next shift says there's a basement below the building where all left socks lost on campus wind up. It's why when no one's around at night, sometimes the first floor smells like feet."

I stared right through her. "I like you."

Cards grinned ear-to-ear. "All I know about is you're a klutz and that's a bad thing so I guess I don't like you. Sorry."

"Exactly! Which is why I need to prowl the lost & found to hide all evidence of the fact so people like me again, right, Shadow?"

He shook his head as if emerging from a dream. "It's true. No one likes him."

"That's tragic!" she said, hands to her cheeks in horror. "Here, lemme get the keys. C'mon, it's over in this room." She hopped up and bounded towards a nearby door.

"Is this real life?" Shadow asked.

"I've had my doubts," I said, following after the girl.

The lost & found struck me as a walk-in closet pretending to be a locker room. A fine layer of dust had long ago stuck its claim here. Cards stuck her head through the door and looked around after I'd entered.

"There's no parrots in here, right?" she asked. "Student center's been having a real infestation of parrots lately. Their feathers are toxic and the other day a few fell into my morning coffee without me noticing it and lemme tell you crying in pain in the fetal position for hours is not how you become the cool girl in class."

I was barely listening, all my attention transfixed on what lay on a wooden table. Resting comfortably in a leather holster amidst a haphazard pile of speedloaders was a mean-looking revolver straight out of cross between Titanfall and Altered Carbon. No freakin' way. You're telling me this utterly hairbrained scheme worked! I mean, shit, I was hoping someone forgot like a spear, something to give me a longer stabby end than my sword. But this?

I mean, sure, little pink hearts decorated the grip. And someone had carved a little "XO" on the barrel complete with an even littler heart between the letters. Was a pair of kissing lips painted on the other side of the barrel. But it was still a gun. If I could make high heels work, I could make this work.

"This is mine," I said without reservation.

"Yes," Shadow added unenthusiastically. "That is his."

I flashed him a thumbs up. Attaboy! We a team now.

"Oooh!" Cards cooed, clapping her hands like an excited seal. "I helped. I did my job!"

I cradled the revolver like a man might a woman, except with actual love since guns can't be thots. I got a feel for its heft, what it was like aiming down the sights, and how secure the cylinder was. This thing was sturdy and well-made. Rolling one between my fingers, the bullets seemed to be .500 S&W or at least the RWBY equivalent, a magnum cartridge originally invented because someone didn't think the .357 or .44 conveyed a sufficient amount of "fuck you."

Normally I wouldn't be caught dead with a wrist-breaker like this, but as my shoulda-been-lethal falls here showed, physics didn't quite work right in this world. When small girls can fire rifles that literally send them flying instead of turning them into paste and deafening everyone around them, the traditional dangers of operating large-caliber weapons didn't exactly apply even without an aura to protect you. The human body itself here did things a bit different, come to think.

How easy is this going to be to reload? I could reload a sixgun with one hand if it came down to it. As soon as I popped it open one of the speedloaders jumped into the air and loaded the cylinder all on its own.

"I think I just popped a boner" I squeaked.

"That's romantic," Cards said, thrusting something into my hands.

I made sure the gun's safety was on before looking at the pen and pad the girl was giving me. "What's this?"

"Would you mind writing a glowing review of my totally awesome commitment to service and helpfulness?"

I considered the pad, then arched a brow her way. "Depends. I bet all sorts of neat and interesting things come through this here lost & found. Probably stuff still buried around."

She stared blankly before she slowly matched my expression. "Maybe. But only a super highly reviewed help desk employee would put in the effort to find that stuff."

"And of course every seperate object would itself be individual proof of your value," I said, slowly writing on the pad.

Shadow had his eyes wide, head tilted at a broken angle. "I feel like I'm watching a drug deal."

"Almost are," Cards said as she took the pad from me. She read it over and grinned giddily.

"Aaand this includes my number," I said with a wink. "In case any future proof of your excellence shows up."

"Glowing reviews and a cute boy's number?" She gasped. "I am moving on up in the world!"

"Sure are," I said, smirking. "You're just the kinda cutie I'd love to play my hand at.."

"That's Jaune. Jaune Arc," Shadow deadpanned. "You literally couldn't get any lower if you had a shovel."

I walked past Cards carrying my prize and patted Shadow's shoulder. "Good thinking, Shadow. Once you dig deep enough you hit lava, which is about as hot as me."

"And as we all know," she added, "much of Remnant's molten mantle is composed of gold and other precious, high-value metals."

"Yeah, what she said."

All Shadow could do was sigh.

This morning had been a success.

My name is Jaune Arc, spat out by the powers of the Void with a big-iron on my hip to bring justice to Remnant and put its waifus in their place—the trash. Or die trying. Whichever came first.

a/n: A chapter with nothing but OCs and a kinda-sorta-SI. Can I get away with it? Probably not.