Chapter 2 - Graduation

The clang of metal rang throughout the circular room, followed by the sound of someone hitting the ground multiple times in succession. Chase's ears would have fallen off it wasn't for the fact that he had long gotten use to the constant cacophony of combat with mecha-shift weapons. What he hadn't gotten used to was the feeling of getting his ass kicked by the woman standing across from him. It was to be expected though. It was probably good for his ego, too.

"Come on, get up. You're telling me you're going to be out of my hair without ever laying a single finger on me?"

Chase pushed himself off his back and into a sitting position. Brushing his sweaty blonde-hair off his forehead, Chase looked up at his teacher. It was hard not to let his eyes wander in ways they shouldn't. Dark crimson locks brushed her shoulders, framing a face of weathered porcelain. And though her clothing was nothing sexual, the nature of the combat-wear caused it to trace an alluring figure.

Nope. Married. She's married. Chase's eyes flitted quickly to the plain silver band that wrapped her right ring-finger, before returning to the face of his mentor.

"Well," Chase grunted as he worked his way to his feet. "Considering who you are, wouldn't it be insulting if I, a mere student, thought I could even scratch you?" He grinned.

"Ah! You wound me so!" With her left hand holding the shaft of Crescent Rose, Ruby theatrically fell back against her weapon. In a faux gesture of hurt, she put the back of her hand to her forehead, on the brow of her dramatically closed eyes. "Does my cherished student really think so low of me, that he would believe me so self-absorbed?!"

"Maybe," Picking his silver pole-arm off the ground, Chase spun the weapon around his body in a display of vitality, before settling into his stance. It was wide, with one foot forward and one foot back while he held Shooting Star behind his back.

When Ruby opened her eyes again to peer at him from the side, there was a sharpness in them that Chase hadn't thought her capable of. "Then come, and don't hold back."

Clicking a button on the side of his staff, Chase was sent flying to the side, and the air behind him rippled. Running, Chase narrowed his eyes to concentrate on his teacher, who remained still in the center of the ring that was his path. To an inexperienced eye, she would've looked vulnerable. Only her eyes followed him, curious as to what he planned to do. Chase circled until he was almost straight behind her, but not quite. She would expect that. Turning on the ball of his foot, Chase clicked the same button as before and was launched toward his target.

His spear out in front of him in a fashion that suggested he meant to run his opponent through, Chase wasn't surprised when she merely shifted her back foot to avoid his attack. He slid his finger down the staff and pressed another button. This time, his spear was pushed to the side with such power that it yanked Chase with it and toward Ruby. His eyes widened; he hadn't expected that much power and clearly neither had she, judging by the way her eyes minutely copied his. Still, it wasn't enough. Right before the weapon bulled into her, she disappeared in a cloud of rose petals.

Sensing her presence behind him, Chase let one hand fall off his weapon as he ducked and twisted his body to watch the butt of Crescent Rose fly less than an inch above his nose. With his free hand, Chase sprung off the ground and landed crouching as he caught his spear. His heart was beating faster than it usually did in these spars, due to the back-to-back close calls.

"Wow!" Ruby looked at him with stars in her eyes. "That was new! You applied the same concept that had originally made Shooting Star special, but oriented it on a different axis. But you must've forgot to install a volume filter into the new mechanism, but that mistake actually almost worked in your favor. Hell, I thought you were actually going to hit me for a second second there. Whoo! My heart's beating harder than it has in a while."

"I'm not done!" Chase shouted as he sprung forward.

He hadn't thought before opening his mouth, and now everything was in slow-motion as he panicked for an idea. Wait, his semblance! He was so used to not using his semblance in these sparring matches, because Ruby instructed him not to until he could find a way to do so without putting himself in harm's way. From then on, Chase had only focused on training his aura and ability with Shooting Star. But he was in desperate straits right now. Even if it wasn't a life or death scenario, Chase couldn't bare to disappoint his favorite teacher. She wouldn't show it, but Chase knew it would be there if he failed to land a single blow in the whole time she had been his personal tutor.

Jumping in the air, Chase saw her eyes widen as he flew towards her. Ha, he had surprised her more today than he had in all their sparring sessions before. But she wasn't shaken; she spun Crescent Rose in front of her, but it wouldn't deter Chase. Shooting his hand out, Chase caught the steel in his palm. The blade was so sharp that it cut through Chase's aura and blood gushed across the silver metal. No pain no gain, right? Chase turned his grimace to a roar as his skin turned a metallic shade and he pushed the scythe out of the way before crashing into his teacher. As they hit the floor, Chase on top, he instinctively raised his fist in a universal gesture of "yield".

But as Chase looked down at his teacher, he was taken aback by the distraught look on her face. She was horrified and the tears that pooled in the corners of her eyes made Chase want to cry too. Desperately, he scrambled off of her.

"I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean-" Chase couldn't speak and hold down his tears simultaneously. He couldn't speak at all with his heart caught in his throat.

Chase watched as Ruby sat up, her hair obscuring her eyes. Her mouth was set in a grim line, and Chase's heart continued to sink. He clambered to his feet without taking his eyes off her. He couldn't. He'd never seen her like this; In the four years he'd known her, the most negative thing he'd seen on her face was a brow furrowed in frustration. Confused, Chase did the only thing he could think to do in a situation like this.

Sticking his hand out toward her, Chase asked, "Are you hurt, Ruby? Do you need-"

He stopped when he suddenly felt a wrench in his shoulder, and it was a moment later that Chase realized it was caused by the diminutive woman on the ground before him. Before he could utter the word 'help', she had smacked his hand away with such force that it strained his shoulder.

What did I say? Chase inwardly panicked and took an unconscious step back. Nothing more left his mouth, nor did he make any move towards Ruby. He was too scared to fuck up again. Seconds that felt like hours passed as he waited for her to do something.

Finally, he spied movement. But he didn't dare to make a move to help his mentor up. Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet and took a second to steady her footing. Huh, that was strange. Even on days where her hair was a mess and looked unwashed and there were bags under her eyes, Ruby had never once taken a step out of place. But here she was, looking like a newborn dear, her legs shaking. Chase could hear as her breath slowed, and he couldn't decide if any stutters were her trying to collect herself or sobs trapped in her throat. He really hoped it was the former.

"Come here."

Ruby's solemn command broke Chase out of his trance. Wordlessly, he obeyed and once he was within arm's length of his teacher, he, stupidly, opened his mouth.

"I-I'm-"

Suddenly, there was a ringing in his ears and his cheek stung. His vision had somehow rotated ninety degrees, and Chase numbly stared at the wall of the training room. What just happened?

The two stood there for an amount of time indeterminable by either individual–Chase unable to comprehend what just happened, as the world around him slowly came back into focus, and Ruby shaking and fighting off the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

Eventually, Chase was able to collect himself and turn his face back to the woman opposite him. Her head was bent down and her face was scrunched up, but almost as if she could sense his gaze, she let out a long breath before straightening up and opening her eyes. Her silver eyes appeared to be stained a tint of red as she stared at him, and instead of sparking awe in him like they always did…they scared him.

"Listen to me, Chase. Because I only want to say this once," Ruby paused, and Chase nodded his understanding. "Never put yourself in harm's way to satisfy your fucking ego."

"Y-yes, ma'am," Chase stuttered when he thought she was finished.

"I've already lost too many people," Ruby continued, her fists clenching as she looked down at the ground and screwed her eyes shut. "And I care about you," Her voice was braking and going higher, and Chase could see her shaking. "I don't want to wake up one day and find out that you're dead from some stranger. Losing you would be like losing a son."

Once again, Chase's vision was filled with roses. He flinched back, but he couldn't move far. Ruby's arms were wrapped tightly around him.

"Promise me that when you leave for Beacon, you'll stay in one piece."

"I don't think-"

Ruby squeezed tighter. "Promise."

He sighed. "I promise."

"Thank you," She said, sounding truly thankful. She pulled back from Chase. "Now go home and take a shower. You stink. And remember that graduation is at eight-thirty in the morning tomorrow."

"I remember," Chase sighed. Finally, Ruby was back to her usual self.

"Sure."

"I do."

"I'm suuure," Ruby rolled her eyes, before turning away and making her way over to where Crescent Rose had been forgotten on the ground. She waved her hand to her side. "See you tomorrow, Chase. And make sure to get your hand cleaned up."

Chase waited for Ruby to leave before moving to collect Shooting Star. As he bent down to grab it, he only then noticed the gash that had opened across his palm. And it was only then that it started to hurt.

"Holy fuck!"

Chase woke to a stuffy nose and the feeling of a drill ramming through his skull, compliments to the alarm he had set on his scroll.

Shut Up. Groaning, Chase rolled toward his bedside and fumbled for the electronic module that he kept on the nightstand. When his fingers found the device's metallic surface, they unsuccessfully tried to pick it up, letting it slip out of their languid grip and fall to the ground.

"Goddamnit," Chase mumbled. He sat up, opening and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Suddenly, the realization of the occasion hit him.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! "What time is it, what time is it?" Chase scrambled for the side of his bed, shooting his hand towards where his unusually awake vision spied his scroll.

After pressing the button to open the device, Chase saw that the top of the home screen read '7:43'.

"Shit."

Jumping to his feet, Chase's feet tangled in his comforter, and he was barely able to prevent himself from face-planting into his carpet. After kicking the blanket off, Chase quickly made his way to his closet, taking off and depositing the sleep-shorts. In forty seconds, he picked out a pair of underwear, at random, a white button-up shirt, black slacks, black socks, and a well-worn but decently taken care of pair of boots. He made his way to the hall bathroom, put the clothes on the sink, and slipped into a shower that quickly went from ice cold to steaming hot.

A few minutes later, Chase turned the water off and stepped out sopping wet, creating puddles on the bathroom tile. Hastily toweling himself off enough that his clothes wouldn't stick to him, he then dressed before brushing his teeth.

"Dad, where's the allergy medicine?" Chase shouted.

"The mirror cabinet–second shelf, on the left."

Chase hurriedly opened the mirror, smacking his knuckles on the hard surface, and quickly found the green and white bottle. Unscrewing the top, he picked out a tablet and threw it in his mouth, before turning on the sink and swallowing the pill down with water.

Quickly drying his hands off, Chase went back to his room to get his scroll. The digital clock now read '7:59'. His heart pounding with adrenaline, Chase quickly deliberated on the best course of action. He didn't know when a bus would come, and his dad would never let him drive his car. He would have to run.

"Fuck me."

Legs of jelly stumbled through the reception area of the fancy building that owned the address Chase had been given for today. After taking a few moments to steady himself, he unlocked his scroll and found the time to be three minutes until eight-thirty.

Chase took a bit to catch his breath, before jogging up to the front desk.

"How can I help you today, sir?" The receptionist asked.

"Um, where's the ballroom? I'm graduating from Signal today, and–"

"It'll be down that hallway," The lady pointed towards a corridor to the right. "It'll be the only set of doors. And congratulations," She ended with a smile.

Her warm and easy tone made it feel genuine, and Chase couldn't help but waste a few seconds to smile back and say, "Thank you." He then took off down the hall that the lady had pointed towards.

After a few seconds of jogging in the dim light, Chase noticed a line of familiar faces–either standing straight, leaning against the wall, or looking down at and typing into their scrolls. He slowed down as he passed them, catching his breath and trying his best to not look like a fool. But they were still looking at him weirdly. Eventually, Chase made his way to the end of the line, where another familiar–and anxious face–was waiting for him.

"Finally," Kayla Knowles moaned, throwing her head back in relief as the stress that Chase had momentarily seen in her features slipped from her face. "Where were you?"

Chase took his spot on the wall next to her. "I don't think you want to know."

"Just tell me."

"...I was asleep."

"Oh my God," Kayla put her head in her hands, scratching at her scalp in frustration. "I would scream if there weren't people around."

"Told you."

"Yeah, well–"

Before Kayla could finish, a bright light suddenly shined into the hallway. Chase could hear voices at the front of the line, but couldn't make out exactly what they were saying. A few moments later, the line started to shuffle forward. After what felt like an eternity, Chase followed Kayla into the ballroom.

There were tables all around the room, laden with black tablecloths, plates on which were small breakfasts, and utensils. Most of the seats were filled up with people who Chase assumed were family of the graduating students. Only for a second did Chase allow himself to mull on the fact that not a single person he could name was among them. Quickly after, though, Chase's gaze flitted to the stage, where the main faculty of Signal Academy stood in a row. When his eyes landed on Ruby, she sent him a discreet wave, before rejoining a conversation with the two women next to her.

The line of graduating students moved towards the front of the room, where rows of uncomfortable-looking chairs were seated in front of the stage. Each seat had a piece of paper with someone's name on it, placed in alphabetical order. Chase quickly found his spot and sat down. The excitement of the young day caught up in that moment of stillness, and it wasn't much longer that Chase could keep his eyes open.

"-ase Raquel."

As if summoned by a spell, Chase sat up in his chair. It took him a moment to remember where he was and another to realize that he needed to stand up. Rubbing his sore neck–sleeping in a chair with no headrest was rarely comfortable–Chase made his way to the stage, focused more on not letting his tiredness show than the odd stares he was receiving from the majority of the attendees.

As he stepped up on the stage, Chase just then perceived the enormity of the situation. Of course, it should be obvious; becoming a huntsmen is what he's dreamed of since he was in grade school, and now he was one step closer. But only now did Chase feel how big of a step he was taking. Instantly, Chase felt the sleep leave him. As he walked towards Signal's headmaster–a tall, lanky man of dark skin and graying hair–Chase stood faller, his stride became more sure, and he let the smile he was feeling pull at his lips.

A few dozen feet later, Chase was clasping hands with the older man, before being handed a certificate that verified his graduation from a registered combat academy. After approximately three seconds of congratulations, he was sent forward and the next graduate was called up. When he stepped off the stage, Chase found that the feeling of importance had fled. Just like that, huh?

Chase didn't pay attention to the words of the headmaster as he made his way back to his seat, too engrossed in his thoughts. What had he worked all these years for? He was supposed to be going forward and getting closer to his dream, but he didn't feel any different now than he had at the beginning of the year.

Once he sat back down, it was only a few minutes–though Chase didn't know it–before the headmaster called for the graduating class to stand. Not having heard the old man's voice, Chase only followed the example of his peers as he stood up. A formal congratulations was issued to every student, parent, and teacher, before they were dismissed to find their loved ones for the first time as combat academy graduates. For Chase, it was a hollow beseechment. Instead, he made his way over to where Kayla had quickly gone to her family.

"Hello, Mr. Knowles," Chase waved to the sun-baked, grizzled old faunus that was Kayla's grandfather with practiced cheer. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he inwardly sighed at the stink-eye the old man gave him. He was used to it after the last few years, but it was still disappointing how someone so anachronistically stubborn was such an important relation to his best friend.

The old man opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated and ultimately closed it. He sighed–this one audible–and turned towards his granddaughter. "Take a few minutes to say goodbye, Kayla. Your mother and I will be waiting in the car," He said in a voice that spoke of chronic smoking in his younger years, before stalking off.

Once Chase felt that the disgruntled faunus was out of earshot, he turned towards Kayla. "Can you tell me again why your grandpa hates me?"

Kayla rolled her slate-gray eyes and folded her hands behind her back, her posture suggesting facetiousness even before her tone did. "Oh, you know–racism," She drawled the last word, punctuating it with jazz-hands.

"Ah, yes. Because that's a suitable explanation," Chase quipped.

"You don't think so?"

"Eh, I don't care that much," Chase shrugged. "I understand where he's coming from; it's just…hard not to be frustrated by it."

"Yeah," Kayla turned her eyes down in agreement, creating a few uncomfortable seconds of silence between them.

Anxious to recreate a normal flow of conversation, Chase broke the quiet. "Since you're so good at explaining things, can you also tell me why everybody was looking at me weird."

"Have you seen yourself?" Kayla asked, as if it was audacious for him to have even asked that question.

He looked down at himself. His boots were clean enough, nothing was on his pants and his shirt was straight and fully-buttoned. "What?" Chase turned his gaze back up to Kayla, clueless as to what she meant. "I thought I looked nice."

"While I'm not complaining, that's the problem," Kayla giggled, covering a snort with her hand.

Chase blushed. What did she mean by that? I'm sure it's nothing. Still…

"How is looking nice the problem?"

"Well, you see what I'm wearing, right?" Kayla gestured to herself. She wore an off-the-shoulder green dress that exposed her caramel-colored shoulders, the skirt of which went down to her ankles. All in all, it looked like a normal outfit. Or it would, if not for the leather toolbelt around her waist and the bandolier across her torso. She looked nice, Chase admitted to himself, but it wasn't the type of outfit that would typically be considered 'nice'. Why was she wearing her combat outfit at–

Oh.

Chase facepalmed, causing Kayla to double over in laughter. It was infectious, and he couldn't help but join. They stayed like that for a minute or so, and Chase wouldn't have minded if it went on longer, but his stomach hurt and it was becoming hard to breathe.

Kayla came up for air a moment after Chase was able to catch his breath. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. She blushed, he blushed, and there was another awkward silence. The moment had slowed down. Kayla ducked her face from Chase's eyes, tucking a strand of her auburn hair behind her left ear. Her eyes flitted back and forth on the ground before she worked up the confidence to look Chase in the eye.

"What?" He said. Kayla's gaze was somehow sure and anxious at the same time, and it made him nervous for what came next.

"You know how my family wants me to attend Shade?"

"Yeah."

"Well, they think it'd be best for me to move to Vacuo as soon as I can, so I'll 'have time to get acclimated'," Kayla looked to the side, clasping her hands behind her back, and muttered: "Not like I want to go anyway."

"Then why go?" Chase asked. It was the same question he asked every time this subject came up, and every time it felt needed. For as long as he's known her, Kayla's never been the type to do things just because she was told to.

After a few seconds of tense silence, she finally answered. "I don't know," She admitted, sighing. "I'd feel bad if I didn't, I guess."

"Right," Chase looked at the ground. It was disappointing, to say the least, that someone he knew to be so strong would give in so easy to the desire of others; a desire she didn't have. He knew it was selfish to be angry, but wasn't Kayla being selfish too by taking the easy way out? Chase knew that Kayla didn't want to leave; that she didn't want to leave her home and her friends. But she wasn't the only one that lost from this. Not knowing what he could say to make Kayla change her mind or to alleviate the pain of her going away just a little, Chase didn't say anything more.

Suddenly, there was a warmth on his chest. Strands of it wrapped around his torso, and he could feel a muffled sob reverberate against his chest. Snapping out of his wonderment at the turn of events, Chase tried to return the hug. But it was too late. Before he could put his arms around Kayla, she extricated herself from the embrace and took a step back.

"Well, uh," Kayla looked up at him, wiping at the tears that had formed in her eyes. Chase could tell she was barely succeeding at keeping her voice from breaking, and the makeup she had worn for the occasion was beginning to smudge. "Have a good time at Beacon, and maybe I'll be able to come home for vacation. See you later, Chase."

With those last words, Kayla turned and made her way toward the exit. As Chase watched her back get smaller and smaller, he felt something break inside of him.

When Chase first decided he wanted to become a huntsman, he hadn't known Kayla and hadn't had any friends who wanted to be hunters. After all, Hunters were less needed now than in eras past, and thus the profession was much less glorified than it had been just thirty years ago. Chase knew that to be a huntsman meant to lead a solitary life, and he was fine with that. But then he had met Kayla the first day at Signal. They were two people who shared the same dream, who just happened to be in the right place to become friends, and Chase had hoped that maybe there would be someone who would be by his side, figuratively speaking, as they both fought to protect Remnant from the evils that refused to follow their master.

He wasn't sure of what the future held now, and the thought that he was once again alone on this path hurt so much more than it had at the beginning.

Three months went by faster than Chase thought they would, and he was grateful for that.

Looking around at the dozens of bodies that surrounded him, Chase felt his heart quicken. In spite of everything he was excited to have finally landed on the grounds that would shape his legacy. For the next four years, this is where he would chase his dream.

Chase's thoughts were broken by a blare of static that ran throughout the room. He looked towards the front, where a warm-skinned man of seemingly average stature stood on a circular stage, his hands atop the mechanical head of a cane that was shaped like a fat rapier. Hazel eyes scanned the sea of hopeful students, patient as the man waited for the room to quiet. Once the room was silent, he bent slightly towards a microphone.

"Hello, young men and women. As I'm sure most of you know, I am Professor Pine. I will be your headmaster for the next four years. At least, to those who pass initiation."

Murmurs worked their way through the crowd, speculating at what the initiation would entail. They had all known there would be an initiation, but it was different each year. And it was only made known to those who actually managed to get to this point. Chase didn't participate in the conversation, but it was interesting to hear the theories those around him came up with.

The professor stamped his cane on the ground to gain back the hopefuls' attention. "And since I do not wish to bore you with pleasantries or formalities, because I am sure you wish for time to yourself or to explore the grounds of Beacon, I will make this quick," He paused, making sure all eyes were on him and ready for whatever he was going to say next. "The initiation exam, of which only a limited number of participants may pass, will be a race from the northeastern edge of Emerald Forest back to here–the room in which you are standing. You will have exactly one week from the time that you arrive at the starting area at eight in the morning tomorrow to complete the exam," Again, the crowd broke into conversation; some speculating about parts of the test that may have went unmentioned and others already planning how they would go about passing. But Professor Pine wasn't done. Again, a knock rang throughout the auditorium. "Remember this, initiates, as this is paramount to ultimately becoming a hunter: do not hesitate to do what is needed. And when that moment of decision arrives, you will know what needs to be done. Dismissed."

AN: So now that you've gotten more of a grasp on the story, I implore you to go as crazy you want when you create your characters. If you got this far and you decided you don't want to submit a character, thank you for reading. I do appreciate simply that, and anything more is something I can't expect of anybody but would be truly grateful for. But real quick before you go, the deadline for creating a character will be March 1st (You know nothing, people who have been here before). I will not be accepting submissions through reviews, and when DMing me your character, make the subject line as follows: "TPLI - [Character Name]". This is not a first come first serve type of things; I want your best efforts and to receive the best characters possible. I have no official limit on how many characters I'll be accepting, but if I get too many for my liking, I will be picky about who makes it. And there is no limit on how many characters you can create, but I will be less inclined to select a second or third character from the same person.