With the repetitious hum of her scroll ringing her from slumber, a pair of green eyes narrowed on the beeping device and reached out a slender hand toward the nightstand.

"Thumbelina? Is something the matter?"

A chirpy voice, the peach-haired huntress grinned at the groggy demeanor of her leader.

"I'm astounded at how you manage to speak with a clear voice after waking up. Anyways, would you mind opening the door? It's getting kinda lonely out here."

Glynda blinked and rubbed her eyes. Checking the time, it was 5:30 am. Much too early for anyone to be up and about, bar the exceptional early birds, the witch threw off her blankets and slipped on a violet bra, shorts, and nightgown.

Dragging her feet across the hall, Glynda made a quick trip to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Back on track, the knocks of her partner thundered across the empty hall and hurried the witch's steps.

"Phew, for a second I thought you went back to sleep." Thumbelina joked as the front door opened.

"Please, come in." Her leader replied with a forced smile.

"Hm, the same bland decor, as usual, you know it wouldn't hurt to put a few pictures or a calendar on the walls, it would make the place a little brighter ya know?"

"Thumbelina, as you can tell I'm not in a chatty mood, so whatever business you came here for please make it quick." Activating her semblance, Glynda pulled out a chair and sat down.

As for Thumbelina, the young woman took full advantage of the boiling kettle and fixed two cups of steaming coffee. Black for the snooty witch, and two cream and one sugar for the dust enthusiast.

"So, have you found anyone to take to the reunion?" She asked while rummaging the cabinets for snacks.

"I know Qrow and the others tease about it, but there's nothing wrong with going alone. Besides, if Ironwood or anyone else gives you trouble, you can always count on Oobleck, Port, and me to set them straight!"

Glynda took a long sip and closed her eyes. "The sentiments are appreciated, but are not needed."

Thumbelina paused and turned to meet her leader's gaze with a stirring stick dangling from her lips. Eyes wide at Glynda's contemplative expression, the dust enthusiast could only come to one conclusion.

"Don't tell me... You actually found someone?!" Jumping for joy, she slammed the cupboards shut and bounded over to the table.

"No need to be excited, we've agreed to keep our joined meeting completely professional and settled as nothing more than a friendly outing at best."

Her partner's smile faltered but picked up as a mischievous glint sparkled in her chocolate-colored pupils.

"Oho, what's this? Is the great and powerful witch a tsundere?" The comment earned a harsh glare, but this only widened Thumbelina's smile.

"Excuse me?" The blonde huffed.

"Please, I've been your partner for five years now. I've come to understand your habits and mannerisms, and whenever boys were brought up, you'd always resort to a cold shoulder and disdainful visage to ward them off or any questions related to them."

Another long sip, Glynda sighed deeply and put down her cup. "If it's gossip you're hoping for, then I'm sorry to disappoint."

"Aw, your no fun," Thumbelina whined with puffed cheeks. "Can you give me a name at least?"

"You'll find out soon enough." The witch waved her hand in a shooing manner thus increasing her cohort's pout.

"Hah... Fine, on another note, I brought the old newspaper you wanted, but why did you need this specific copy? You never struck me as a history enthusiast."

Glynda waved her hand in a reprimanding manner. "This paper isn't for me, it's my date's payment for his attendance tomorrow."

Her peachy partner's face scrunched. "Why do you have to bribe him to be there? Does he not want to go?"

"He's... a reserved kind of person."

"Hm... So what's his name?" Thumbelina asked.

Annoyed at the roundabout of the conversation, Glynda reached for the paper, only to have it snatched away from her.

"You know, it'd be a real shame if this article disappeared." Her friend waved her half-filled cup over said paper.

"If you do that then you'll never find out who my date is. He's not the type to complete a promise unless he receives his reward."

Feeling sour over the witch's reasoning, Thumbelina dropped the subject and downed the rest of her coffee.

"Well, I hope this fake date of yours is worth the trouble. But at least tell me this, is he a nice person?"

"He's... not a bad person per se, just a little lazy and downtrodden."

"That's already two red flags in my book. I know people say opposites attract, but I prefer to think of it in a positive sense." Thumbelina frowned.

"Look, can't this wait until tomorrow? You'll understand once you see him." The witch grumbled.

"Alright, but expect a lot of teasing as payback." The dust enthusiast added with a wink and excused herself from the household.

Now alone, Glynda finished her coffee and briskly returned to her room where a set of folded clothes were neatly stacked on top of her writing desk. Eyeing the items Hawkins had purchased for her in comparison to her own selections, she frowned as she picked up the attire the magician had chosen for her and turned to a long person-sized mirror hanging off the wall.

/-/

The solar rays peeking through the window, Hawkins rubbed his face and forced himself up from his comfy but damp sheets.

"Another nightmare..."

The magician groaned as he staggered out of bed. Though sleep was a necessity Hawkins had come to understand, he still detested the dark images his slumber brought forth. His dreams varied from explosions to pools of blood, but the voices of his distressed crewmates were always present.

The day was Thursday and with a tarot reading Hawkins deduced it was still early morning. About fifteen hours until he had to meet with Glynda for the grad celebration, but he couldn't help but feel indignant about the idea.

The snooty witch, as a whole, was a decent character despite her harsh tongue. However, given her personal standards and view of the world, Hawkins could understand where she was coming from. Glancing at his ruffled cloak that sagged lazily off his desk chair, he noticed a few stains from last night's dinner had marred its cotton, along with a few slobber patches on its hem courtesy of his son. Massaging his vexed temples, the magician put on his clothes and tied his boot laces. There were a few things he needed to accomplish before tomorrow, and he wanted to be out of the commercial district before the large crowds set in.

"Hawbins!"

The second he entered the hallway, Hawkins was met with the sight of a goofy baby at the end of the hall. Crawling on all fours, the blonde tyke plopped himself down in front of his father's boots and raised his arms at him. Dressed in his blue bunny onesie, Jaune tilted his head to meet his dad's stoic gaze.

"Ah, there you are," Leaning against the front door, Carla tapped her foot as she scanned the magician from head to toe. "There's plenty of stew left from yesterday's dinner, so eat as much as you want."

"Aba?" Jaune blinked as Carla picked him up by the underarms.

"It's time for you to get dressed, Jaune, we have a big day with my friends and the other kids today and I want you to be awake for all of the pictures." The cow Faunus smiled.

"Ababa!~" Jaune blurted happily.

"Has Sam already departed?" Hawkins asked.

The cow Faunus nodded. "He left the house the second he woke up. With those construction companies all over the district, no doubt my husband and the other boys are doing their best to placate the tension between the farmers and all the new visitors."

"I see." The blonde hummed.

"Trifa? Where are you, we have to get going or else we'll be late!"

With a wistful creak, the door to the young girl's room was pushed open. Adorning her usual long-sleeved black sweater and blue shorts, she puffed her cheeks and made her way over. Though for some reason, she appeared to be glaring daggers at Jaune.

"Ababa?" The boy tilted his head and flashed his friend a pearly grin.

"Trifa, what's wrong? You'll end up scaring the other kids if you keep a face like that." Carla hummed.

"Twibutts!~" Jaune blurted while waving his hands excitedly.

Glancing down at the one who the baby referred to, Trifa's cheeks flushed red as her hands balled into fists.

A forced cough, Hawkins veered his crimson pupils to meet with a stern set of brown.

"I didn't teach him that fake name." He grumbled. Though his words did little to deter Carla's accusing glare.

"Twibutts!~" Jaune babbled.

"I don't want to go out if he's gonna call me that all day." Trifa moped and began her way back to her room.

"Wait." The magician's stern tone earned everyone's attention.

His eyes narrowed and the veins atop his forehead bulged, Hawkins turned his expression of discontent towards his son. Jaune shivered and sought shelter in his grandma's arms, but Hawkins wasn't having any of it and gripped him by the hair.

"Waba! Waba!"

"H-Hawkins, what are you doing?! You're hurting him!" Carla shouted.

Raising a finger to a bewildered spider Faunus, the magician forced his son's gaze on the girl and announced her name.

"TRIFA!"

His cry shaking the establishment, Jaune's eyes blew wide in fear as the message echoed through his ears. Tears forming, the baby blinked and bit his lower lip.

"Trifa," Hawkins repeated, in a much more sophisticated and gentle tone.

"T-T-Tweefa."

His lesson done with, Hawkins released his hold and opened the front door, but not before doing a quick tarot reading. "There's a 9% chance he'll call you that horrible nickname again even if you do mention it. Also, please don't be too late in returning home, Carla. As I still need your assistance in preparing for my meeting tomorrow."

"Of course, it's not often you personally ask me for favors, so how could I ever refuse?" The farmer snickered.

On his leave, the former pirate could've misheard, but he swore he heard Trifa thank him before he left.

/-/

"Ding~"

"Hello, how can I help you?" Tukson dropped a pile of boxes on a cart and hurried over to the front counter.

"Oh, Hawkins, it's a bit early to be dropping by isn't it? I haven't finished printing the next installment of Sora yet."

"I need textbooks with information of the etiquette of Vale's upper classes during the medieval periods." Straight to the point, the magician's demand left Tukson speechless.

"Well, I do have a history section, but I'm afraid it's occupied by a rather studious bookworm." The puma Faunus glanced behind his friend, and following his gaze, Hawkins' crimson eyes landed on a lazily dressed chap with a yellow tie surrounded by several stacks of thick novels in the back of the room.

The man had messy green hair, its ends spiked to the sides, it gave the spectacled fellow the impression that a hedgehog sat on his scalp. Lost in his own world of endless literature, the man's train of thought derailed at the sight of a tall blonde individual wearing a ruffled collared cloak.

"Dr. Oobleck, correct?" Hawkins was glad he held onto team GPPO's card, as it had the full names of each member enlisted on it.

"Ah, Mr. Hawkins, a pleasure to be seeing you again!" Oobleck grinned and sprang from his seat and extended his hand.

The magician denied the polite gesture and immediately set to his initial task.

"Mr. Tukson tells me you're well informed on Vale's history. Could you provide me with a few books in regards to its etiquette in medieval times?"

"Of course I can!" Oobleck roared and after pushing up his glasses, he was gone in a green blur that sped through every section of the bookstore.

He returned in a matter of seconds with a bundle of magazines in his left hand, and a few textbooks tucked under his right arm.

"These magazines skim over the general principles of design and decor, while these thicker texts will answer your questions of food and transportation. Also, perhaps you'd like to review the political strife of the four kingdoms while you're at it?"

The doctor said that so fast it took all of Hawkins' brainpower to keep up.

"This one will do." The magician sighed and took a book titled Manners Of Dance.

"Hoh? I don't mean to intrude on your personal affairs, but why this specific title? Are you hoping to mimic the graceful movements of our predecessors?"

The blonde curled a brow. "Are you not familiar with the Valesian traditions? Won't everyone be required to dance in the ballroom?"

Oobleck blinked. "I'm not sure where you're going with this. As I recall the only ballroom Vale still has is the beige building in the western sections of the commercial district, but that place hasn't been used for dance in over a decade."

"Does your former school prohibit cultural dances?" Hawkins asked.

"It depends what kind of dance you're talking about." The voice that spoke didn't belong to the doctor.

Turning around, the blonde's crimson pupils landed on a woman with pink hair tied into an offset bun with a red ribbon. She wore a cyan cardigan with a white undershirt and a long blue skirt that ended with a pair of leather slippers.

"Ah, Peachplum, impeccable timing as always!" Oobleck grinned from ear to ear and gave the new presence a warm hug.

"Yup, and I got you a cup of your favorite expresso too," His girlfriend giggled and wrapped her arms around her boyfriend's neck. Though with her lover standing at six feet and seven inches, Thumbelina had to stand on her tippy toes to do so.

"So, you're into classical dances, Hawkins?" The huntress smiled.

"Is there not a standard the citizens abide by at special celebrations?"

Separating herself from Oobleck's embrace, both members of GPPO curled a brow at Hawkins' question.

"Am I missing something here?"

"What celebration are you referring to? I don't mean to come off as rude, but the only one I can think of is Beacon's grad reunion, and that's reserved for its students and staff." Oobleck cupped his chin as Thumbelina put her hands on her hips.

"What about invitational dates?"

Both hunters were sent for a loop.

"Um, I guess there's nothing wrong with that, but if you don't mind me asking, who are you going with?" Thumbelina inquired.

Hawkins crossed his arms. "Did your leader not tell you?"

"Leader? What are you..." As if she'd been struck by lightning, the woman's mouth formed an O while her boyfriend's jaw slammed against the floor.

"Ms. Goodwitch invited me a few days ago, I assumed she'd have explained the conditions of our arrangement to her teammates at the very least." The blonde said flatly.

"S-She asked you?!"

Hawkins stepped back at Thumbelina's outburst.

"I-I'm sorry, it's not a bad thing, but when I met Glynda this morning and she told me she'd found a suitable date I just couldn't believe it! I mean, to be fair, she doesn't really give off the impression of desiring any kind of boyfriend right?"

"It's not a date. Merely a circumstance that will reward me with the information I require."

Thumbelina tapped her chin. "Oooh, now it all makes sense. So you're the one who wants the article about Harold Arc's death. Are you a detective by any chance?"

"No." Was the magician's curt reply. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have business elsewhere."

A transaction with Tukson, and just like that Hawkins was out of the building.

"Well, he's straight to the point isn't he?" Oobleck shrugged.

Thumbelina giggled. "Yes, unlike our tsundere of a leader."

/-/

"Ding~"

"Ah, you're rather early." Grinned a lanky lizard Faunus in oil smudged overalls.

"Is my order prepared?" Hawkins asked impatiently.

"Yep, finished it yesterday, but I'll have to charge you extra since this was a rush order. Also, I didn't have the paint you wanted, so I'll give you a discharge on that note."

Mr. Slate stumbled around the clutter behind the counter and picked up an armor-like armlet that, once fitted on the magician, covered his left bicep and extended over his shoulder.

"That's a good look on you." Mr. Slate grinned and accepted his lien happily.

The former pirate sighed. While the trinket fit snuggly on his person, the last time he had it on was in the midst of battle. A battle that he'd lost one hundred percent along with his crew.

"Um, I'm sorry, was that not the comment you were looking for?" The lizard Faunus scratched his cheek at his customer's downtrodden visage.

"It's nothing," Hawkins grunted and left in silence.

Out on the streets, the populace had begun to show their numbers as the signs of cafe's flipped their signs for business. Eager to leave without fuss, Hawkins diverted off the main road and entered his next stop.

In a tailor shop, the magician was greeted by a suited gentlewoman with her brown hair tied in a curly bun. She immediately set to work, taking the blonde's measurements then guided him to the changerooms. However, to her surprise, he'd already drafted an assortment of clothes that simply needed to be sewn into reality.

Though she frowned at Hawkins' last-minute demands, the gentlewoman clapped her hands and ushered a handful of employees to the workshop located in the back of the store.

Luckily all the required materials were there, and in a few hours' time, the magician's new outfit had been assembled.

His tattered cloak was traded for a black, long-sleeved shirt with a white ruffled collar that reached below his chin but split into a V that was just low enough to reveal the black cross tattoo on his chest.

Purple trousers with a checkered pattern covered his legs, with an ankle-length white cape that clipped onto his ruffled collar. All these changes, coupled with his longsword and new armored armlet, gave a wave of nostalgia as Hawkins observed his new attire in a wide mirror provided by the friendly tailors. For a moment, he saw his crewmates, standing proud behind him, but shook his head before the crippling memories took hold of his heart.

Paying his dues and leaving an extra-large tip, the former pirate took his plastic bags and headed for his final destination. A moment of peace at his favorite park bench would ease his nerves before tomorrow, and allow him to elaborate on his past activities today should he have missed anything.

However, despite his desires, his place of solitude was occupied. The worst part, Hawkins was rather acquainted with this woman.

Her fair face was covered by her reddish bangs, the woman was dressed in her huntress attire and sat still as a statue with her hands clasped on her lap. Leaning in for a closer look, her entire form appeared to be shaking.

The magician mulled over the idea of assisting the downtrodden huntress. While she was his first official friend in Remnant, he didn't want to sour his mood with petty problems before tomorrow.

"...Ms. Rose?"

"H-Huh?"

The blonde bit his tongue. Why did his lips move despite his brain telling them to remain closed? Dimmed silver eyes meeting with a fiery crimson, the magician cursed his luck as a nervous smile spread on Summer's lips.

Wiping the traces of tears off her cheeks with her sleeve, the red reaper perked up and straightened her posture.

"G-Good morning, Hawkins. It looks like you've been busy," she said and pointed to the bags dangling below her friend's waist.

"Yes, my old clothes are nearing their limit and I required a new set. Why are you here?" He grunted.

"O-Oh, well y-you see, I was hoping that you weren't busy tomorrow."

"..." Hawkins didn't like where this was going, but before he could voice his opinion, Summer took the initiative.

"You see, there's a grad reunion at my school tomorrow at six o'clock..."

A dusting of pink that quickly spread across her entire face, it took all of Summer's willpower to keep eye contact with the stoic magician.

"W-Would you, like to g-go with me as my date t-tomorrow?"

The bags slipped from his fingers and landed on the dirt with a thud. His throat dry of words, Hawkins simply stood there with wide eyes and a pensive frown as the morning breeze brushed through his golden locks.

*Grad Reunion Arc. Part 1. End.*