Disclaimer: RWBY belongs to Rooster Teeth. I own nothing.
Chapter 20. Beacon Days 10
"-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"
Yang Xiao-Long screamed and screamed and screamed, mustering her Aura for all she's worth. Legs set wide, she stood with both fists chambered at her hips. Aura blazed forth to wrap her in the center of an inferno. Her hair spun into flames, the heat lifting golden spikes into the air, as if to form a crown. Her back, groaning and creaking under shackles that felt like a mountain, unbent with each passing seconds. Until, with a final push-
"-AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
-the Mighty Dragon of Patch overcame the weight of the world to stand straight and tall. Defiant. Proud. Triumphant.
Looking across the stage, her crimson eyes met the gaze of her foe. In it, she saw placid orbs with scant emotions, nothing remotely like the vengeful fury found in that boy's eyes or the confident determination of the Invincible Girl. But the power, oh, the power behind that thousand-yard stare shook her to the core. It said that Yang has yet to impress. Unbidden, her lips widened to a hungry grin.
This was it, the true battle at last.
Yang launched forward…and slammed into the ground, her forehead carving a groove into the arena floor. As if to add insult to injury, her body lifted a touch then began scraping back and forth in the hole she found herself in.
Glynda Goodwitch was, as literally as possible, rubbing Yang's defeat in her face.
"Red Aura, Miss Xiao-Long."
Ouch. That tone went past cold and into iceberg territory. Yang suspected that their professor might hold a grudge over the mountains of paperwork Team RWBY piled on her after the debacle at the docks.
"Flaring his Aura so inefficiently worked for Mr. Arc, for the little good it did, because of his massive reserves. At the same level of my Telekinesis' pressure that put you at Red Aura, he could attack and defend at a reduced effectiveness for a few more minutes. You, however, lack the same advantage and I suggest you focus on better Aura control if you want to continue this route, or develop a different strategy."
Urk.
Harsh but fair. Halfway through her ordeal, Yang had realized the same, that Jaune Arc understated massively when he claim to 'just have a bit more Aura' than her. That smoooooth criminal must have been trying to hide his abilities from her.
"Finally, you, Mr. Arc, and everyone else in this room are too eager to fight above your capabilities. I advise you to pace yourselves. You may go."
"…Yes, professor."
That was a bust.
Yang drudged back to the stands, weathering the hyena laughs of the students from the other Academies. They haven't experienced the earthquake-like force Goodwitch conjured in her first lesson, and saw only a girl defeated in a single attack. The ones from her school were more muted in their criticisms, but Jaune Arc had been the first to take on this particular challenge and his performance was the benchmark against which she was judged. From the whispers of her peers, she failed to make a good showing. Never mind that they hadn't the nerves to brave this trial, forget that they avoided fighting Yang herself, this defeat lessened her abilities in their eyes.
Emboldened, their laughter became mockery and catcalls. Yang clenched her fists, rage burning for an instant and washed away in the next. Let the puppies bark, they'll learn in time.
"How about I teach you-"
"-just a weak, little girl-"
"I knew you'd be a screamer!"
"Shoo, perv," sighed Yang.
Was she like them, before? Yang reflected on her days in Patch and recalled that, yes, she had been the worst of them. The taunts she used had bite and edges. It used to be that a loss marked one as a weakling in her mind, and later it became a moral failing of lesser beings as Yang looked down on them all from her perch as Signal's Strongest.
Today, she lost another match, and she's been having way more fun in her losses to strong opponents than the matches she won easily. Little flaws she never knew she had were being highlighted and smoothed away, leaving a deadlier Yang as time goes by.
Ruby hadn't noticed, her sweet sister fretting as Yang threw herself in the next seat.
"You almost had her, wait no, you'll get her next, um-" Heheh, how adorable. "Your voice really hit the high notes?" Good try, sis, but unnecessary.
"C'mon, I'm not sad about it. It's Goodwitch." Weiss nodded.
"Yes, rather than mocking our fellow student," her voice rose to reach the ears of the catcallers, "we should look at this as an opportunity to learn how to face strong Semblances. You did well, Yang." Awwwww, how sweet.
"I didn't expect such warm words from you, Weissy. But thanks!"
"Don't call me that." Weiss protested, but Yang saw the faint tinge of red. "I am merely speaking the truth. Professor Goodwitch stands head and shoulders above us. Why, neither Pyrrha nor Jaune have found a way to take a single step towards her!"
*snrk*
Yang bit her lips, suppressing the bray of laughter. Pyrrha was one thing, the absolute beast of battle, but it seemed even Weiss was fooled when it came to Jaune Arc. She glanced several seats over, where said blond observed the next match. By all intent, he was engrossed in the bout between two middling combatants.
"Yo, Jaune. How about a fight with me?" The answer was immediate.
"Not on your life, Xiao Long. I have better things to do."
Heh, figures. Jaune had refused twenty-seven times so far, but who's counting? The important thing was to get her rematch. She wanted to confirm a suspicion about her fellow blond.
Look at him, sitting there with legs spread wide and taking up both adjacent seats. One of his leg rested on the bench in front of him, so there's a third empty seat. The phrase 'like a boss' popped into her mind, for he had that aura (not Aura. Heh) of a top dog that Yang used to display.
Most of the transfers stayed away from him. They've heard all the rumors about the most dangerous man in Beacon and were cautious, especially the people from Haven who were genuinely terrified of him for reasons unknown. The Beacon students kept at a respectful distance, because they've witnessed the truth to those rumors. From the various pains and humiliations of Team CRDL, to the string of victories in the arena, Jaune appeared like an unstoppable force. Not to mention, the boy had connections with dubious parties that allowed him to build a hidden room stocked with top-shelf alcohol (and bottom-barrel swill), where one can get their hands on the juicy tidbits that never made it onto the rumor mill.
His was the name on Beacon's lips. They wanted to know which combat school molded him, who his mysterious teachers were, and where he came from that make him so strong.
Yang giggled and dropped her eyes to his lap where his treasure laid, and once she saw it again she couldn't turn away. For there it was, the truth hidden in plain sight.
Unlike her, Jaune truly paid attention to the uninspired match, jotting down in his ever-present notebook all sorts of observations only he could be bothered to see. He hasn't stopped writing since the semester began, devoting pages and pages to include every classmate, even the worst of the lot. An excessive and wasteful effort, one might think, unless they came to the obvious and impossible conclusion why he needed such extensive notes.
It took a while, and she denied it could be true at first. After discounting his first fight against Goodwitch, the pattern of people he liked to challenge emerged. Now, Yang's pretty sure she had figured out his secret.
They've all thought he was strong.
But maybe, just maybe, Jaune Arc was weak.
Beacon Cafeteria
Was it a simple case of school rivalry that caused Beacon's newfound tension? Was it the always complex issue of culture clash? Could it be the memory of the Great War resonating through the generations, enmity passed from parent to child? Perhaps it started much later, with a certain blond causing trouble for one Academy, only to suffer in turn at the hand of another blond from a third Academy, like some sort of cosmic joke passed through fairer hair color?
Nah, it's probably the first one.
Beacon prided itself as the premier Huntsman Academy of Remnant, and instilled that pride in each and every one of its students. To attend here was to be marked as an elite warrior of Remnant.
Like Beacon, its three peers fostered their own warrior cultures, with one caveat. They expected their students to topple Beacon's vaunted status as the best, and efforts were already underway.
During the first combat class after they arrived, no less than eleven transfers issued a challenge against Pyrrha. They soon learn not to, and turned their attention to Yang and Nora. On Tuesday, they've begun calling out Weiss, with more than half of the challengers coming from Atlas. The most recent class saw the first time a transfer took on Blake. They haven't come close to winning, though, and Team RWBY and JNPR have had a few good laughs from it all.
Was this the other Academies' best? What's their next move, now that they've helped confirm Beacon's status as the strongest?
And as he chew on a mouthful of pasta, Jaune got it at last. Face green and stomach gurgling, he put down his fork and calmly, calmly, flipped his lunch tray.
"Jaune, what the hell?"
"They're coming for us and we're not ready!" He grabbed Ren's collars and pulled him close. "We're screwed, Ren. Completely and utterly-" Weiss snapped.
"Arc! Jaune. Don't be crass, and tell us what's going on."
"Yes. Um." Jaune considered telling the truth, and dismissed that idea. "The other schools are challenging us."
"And that lead you to grab my collar, why?" Ah, right.
Jaune let go of his teammate. Placing both hands on the table like a general in a war room, he looked from one person to the next.
"We thought they were easy. Simple. Weak. Well, they're laying a trap, and unfortunately, it may be too late for some of us." He paused for effect, and Ruby obliged him.
"Who is it too late for?"
"Yang, Nora, and Weiss, with Pyrrha and Blake as firm maybes."
That made them all sit up and pay attention. More than half of those present have been named as casualties.
"I feel fine." Yang checked herself out, then grinned. "Very fine, if I say so myself."
10/10 looks, 4/10 boring clothes. 7/10 overall, he almost said, but Jaune reined back his critic soul honed in The Club, choosing to stay on point.
"Sure, you haven't been wounded in any way, but what you've lost is worse. Do you have any secret techniques you haven't shown in your matches?"
"Uhhh…"
"Any aspect of your Semblance that you held in reserve?" Pyrrha, the tournament fighter, understood his point before the others and gasped.
"We're revealing our abilities before the tournament."
Now they got it. The top ranks of their class won match after match, and in doing so, displayed their Semblances, Aura levels, weapons, and fighting styles to the observers in the stand. In return, Jaune can't remember more than two or three transfers activating their Semblances or mechashifting their weapons. A fraction of the transfers fought with all their strength.
"You're still okay, Pyrrha, because you kept your Semblance subtle. Blake didn't need hers in the last match, and her gun-"
"Gambol Shroud."
"Uh-huh, that thing-" Jaune snickered at Blake's glare. "- has too many forms for most people to get a handle on with one look. They might have noticed your small Aura pool from the hits you took, like I did. Then there's Yang, Nora, and Weiss who fought half a dozen times by now, and showed their whole repertoire." Weiss sighed.
"In my defense, those louts from Atlas won't leave me alone."
"Sorry, Boss." Nora blurted out, head hung low. "I was too caught up in having fun."
Atlas Academy certainly held a grudge against the girl who might have been their brightest star, had she not chosen to attend Beacon in the end. He doubted the Atlesiens would relent anytime soon, out of spite if nothing else. As for Nora, her advantage lay in her unpredictable moveset, wild swings coupled with unconventional uses of a grenade launcher. Knowing her style was one thing, countering it was another. Too bad they couldn't keep her Semblance's and Magnhild's details under wraps, though.
Jaune's biggest gripe was the uneven trade. The transfers found top-Lien information on his friends, while the notes he gained turned out to be faulty due to sandbaggers. In other circumstances, he would give them a nod of respect, for their cunning mirrored the mindset his teachers hammered into him. Since their crosshairs were aimed in his direction, Jaune cursed their unfair and cowardly tactics.
"We're still fine, Nora. None of you have become weaker, it's just that our teams are playing fair while our opponents aren't. That's going to change from now on, and we're flipping their strategy back on them. Try to hide your abilities in your next matches." Ruby raised a hand, nervous.
"I don't know if I can win like that. My scythe and Semblance kind of work together." Yang chimed in.
"We could ignore all that and train harder. Just saying."
Aid came in the form of Weiss, who pounded a fist on the table.
"I think it is a great idea. Frankly, it was my idea ever the since the day Shade Academy arrived. Had you-" she pointed to Ruby, Yang, and Blake. "-listened back then, we would have the upper hand right now. I told you so, I told you all!"
She must have been holding that back for a while. Weiss Schnee sported a wide smile full satisfaction, crowing at being validated for her previous schemes. Which, admittedly, were quite underhanded if she had come up with it before any of the Academies pulled the same stunt.
Truly, Jaune was among his people. Either that, or he has corrupted the sheltered girl from Atlas.
To Ruby and Yang, who held misgivings, Jaune made his case.
"If we don't change our ways, the transfers will overtake us. Not because they are working harder, but because they know our weaknesses. I'm not suggesting we avoid or sabotage them. If you need it to beat your opponent, use it. But grind out the match and force them to show their own cards." He chuckled at Pyrrha's salute. "That's the key to maintaining our dominance in combat class for the rest of the year. And to catch up on their headstart, we'll take that intel from outside the ring."
"Detective Nora is on the case!" Exuberant once more, Nora donned a deerstalker hat, magnifying glass in one hand. "Where do you need me, Boss?"
The sisters of Team RWBY, while not happy, did not gainsay him. Blake remained inscrutable as always, and Ren was a surprising holdout, but Nora's puppy eyes brought him on side. In the end, the two teams threw their support behind Jaune.
As he delved into his plan, Jaune took heart in his friends' loyalty, glad that he won't be fighting alone. He also tried to ignore the pangs of guilt for not telling them the whole truth, which was that he stood to gain the most from their spying. The other Academies' best were going through the list of Beacon's strongest. And one of the names on that list?
Him. Jaune 'Paper Tiger' Arc.
Completely and utterly screwed.
Unused Wing
Two blonds walked down a hallway, and that was not the start of a joke.
Yang strolled along at a sedate pace, hands cradled behind her head. Next to her, Jaune swung his legs and dipped his shoulders as he swaggered down the corridor. From an outside perspective, they might cut impressive figures, oozing confidence on every step. With not a single other person in sight, she did sort of wonder for whom they were putting on a show.
"I still think we should have split up by partners. I could have come here by myself, too." Yang rolled her eyes at Jaune's griping.
"It's dangerous to go alone. And I'm telling you, those two are perfect for their job."
"Not to rag on my partner, but Pyrrha's not exactly assertive in most cases."
"She's got star power on her side, especially with Mistral. He could be a fan. And Blake? You didn't see how he was around her. Trust me, he'll bend over backwards to impress that girl." She caught Jaune's difficult face. "Would you rather you were the one meeting him?"
The clenched fists and grinding jaw said it all.
By her brilliant suggestion, Yang and Jaune have teamed up for today's mission, and she'd swear that less than half of it was motivated by her ulterior motives. She honestly thought Pyrrha and Blake would fare better in getting information out of Sun Wukong.
As an expert in anger issues, she could state with confidence that Jaune's rage at the murderer of his suit has abated from a seething fury down to a mere simmer after the gauntlet he ran the monkey Faunus through. Doctor Yang also diagnosed that his anger would flare up again if the two boys came into proximity so soon. Best to let it rest another week.
As for herself? Hard pass. She tried prying information out of someone once, and it ended with Jaune stabbing her a million times. Which segued into the mystery she wanted to solve.
Which was the real Jaune, the warrior that fought her head-on or the coward challenging only people he can defeat?
Let Pyrrha and Blake apply the soft touch where it'd do the most good, this was Yang's chance to observe Jaune Arc in his natural habitat, skulking around and meeting shady contacts.
Besides, Sun's a good guy. After the ordeals he suffered, he deserved something nice as a late Beacon welcome.
Getting to enjoy the company of two graceful flowers? He better thank her for this.
-o-
Imagine the scene, one strapping man and two gorgeous women in a room.
They had locked the door to prevent any interruptions. The man reclined on a sturdy chair, riveted in his seat as he turned his head from one woman to the other, as if in indecision.
The first was his crush, a dark-haired beauty already settled into the bed. She would not meet his gaze, her blushing face hidden behind covers.
An incomparable sight in normal times, he thought, but for the second girl drawing his wandering eyes. She was known the world over as a celebrity whose status was akin to a goddess among mortals, and unlike her friend, she watched him intently as she stroked the long, hard length of the blade.
Her blade. Milo, she called it.
Sun gulped, and shifted against the ropes again. Nope, no give to be had.
"M-Ms. Nikos, I really can't blab about that sort of thing. It's-, they're my friends." Pyrrha Nikos pouted.
"Are we not friends, too? Does that mean…"Her disappointed frown transformed into a feral grin. "…that we are enemies again?"
Her hand whipped out, and Sun braced himself for pain. Instead, he found soft fingers holding his chin. Pyrrha tilted his head up to look into her eyes.
"First, you stole from my Family, then you stained my leader's honor and pride. In his magnanimity, Jaune forgave you." Sun wanted to protest that blatant lie at the end, but Pyrrha pressed his jaw shut, the gentle touch becoming an unyielding grip. "Now, we find out that you and the rest of your cohort have been plotting against us? Your chances are running out, Mr. Wukong. Tell us what we want to know."
He knew the plan was a bad idea the moment Neptune suggested it, never mind that they had Lionheart's endorsement. No way was Beacon going to sit still. As Pyrrha loosened her grip to let him talk, Sun twisted his head towards his only hope.
"Blake, you know I'm on your side. Please call her off!" Said girl flipped a page, giving no indication she had heard.
"BLAKE!"
The cat Faunus winced, and her eyes peeked over the top of her book cover, blush fading.
"Can you keep it down? I'm at a really good part right now."
"C'mon, I thought we had something together. Remember the docks?"
Hope blossomed in his chest as his crush closed her book with a snap. She hopped off the bed and approached the blond boy, her hips swinging with each step. Her hand reached out and pinched his cheek.
"I also remember that my match this morning was against someone from Mistral. Did you tell any of them about how I fight?"
Yes. "No."
Judging from her narrowing eyes, Blake did not believe him.
"That answer came out too fast. You've told something. Get the other side, Pyrrha."
"Understood!" Another pinch, this time on his left cheek. "But shouldn't you be the good cop to my bad cop?"
"In my personal experience it's 'bad cop, bad cop' all the way down. Let's hurry this up, all the hints point to Kimiko making her choice in the next chapter."
"Could I borrow the book when you're done?"
"Sure. We have to get you a personal set one of these days. You'll need it the next time there's an autograph event." The two girls returned their full attention to the task at hand. "But first, what should we do with you, Sun?"
Glancing from one beauty to the other, Sun made up his mind. Settling in the chair as best as he could, he said in a playful tone.
"Do your worst."
What, are they gonna pinch him to death? Puh-lease, there were people who paid for this in Mistral.
Aura flooded their hands, countering his own.
Sun lost his bright smile.
-o-
"We're here."
Jaune's voice woke Yang from another idle daydream of all the things a lucky Sun could be experiencing at this moment.
Before her was a worn door, a sign hung beside it marking this as the Grimm Studies classroom. Which had to be wrong, because that class took place just off the Main Building. Yang pointed a thumb at the sign, and raised an eyebrow at Jaune, who laughed.
"Yeah, I heard Port taught in this room way back when, until he commandeered the lecture hall we currently use."
"What's wrong with this place?"
"It's in that unfortunate location where both professors and students tend to arrive late. Grimm Studies is our first class of the day, remember? They used to have to wake up early to get here."
Thinking back on the walk from the cafeteria that took forever, she could believe it. Weiss might be willing to get up at 5AM for her precious attendance record, but Yang would sooner mutiny along with Ruby and Blake.
"Good on Port. I'm glad we don't have any classes here."
"Of course we wouldn't." Jaune pointed to another door with its own sign (Defense Against the Dark Grimm). "The other teachers here all followed Port's lead and took up residence elsewhere. Dust Theory and Dust Application doubled up after a battle between professors because they each wanted the same room."
"Ha! Hilarious. How do you know all that?"
"I have my sources. Speaking of, there's one waiting for me in here. Keep watch for any tails on us?" Yang peered down the dark, deserted hallway, and back to Jaune.
"It sounds like you're trying to get rid of me."
"Pssh. No way. I would never." He squeezed by her, attempting to close the door, but whined when Yang's boot slid into the gap. "I have to protect their identity, Yang."
"I promise I won't tell anyone. C'mon, let me in."
Staying outside, counting ceiling tiles, defeated the entire purpose of her being here. More importantly, she refused to hang around in a creepy corridor, dammit!
Past the other blond, Yang heard a voice call out.
"Oh, do let her in, Mr. Arc. If my guess as to the reason you have requested a meeting at this current juncture is correct, then we all have a vested interest in the matter at hand."
A very familiar voice. As Jaune relented, she ducked under his arm into the room. Her jaws dropped upon seeing the unkempt green hair and disheveled suit of the man leaning against a window.
"Seriously, you're his informant?"
Professor Oobleck raised his thermos in greeting, before taking a sip from it.
"I prefer the term 'partner', at least where our interests coincide. I would wager that this concerns our recent arrivals?" The professor smiled in satisfaction when Jaune nodded.
"Yes, sir. I was hoping that you might have a… an insight into their abilities. Small things like student records or notes on their Semblances, perhaps? Before that, though, my uncle sent me this packet of coffee bean along with a recipe, and I needed someone to taste test the blend." Oobleck's face turned serious.
"Vacuan?"
"Mistralian, actually. It's very new, and in very short supply. Practically worth its weight in gold, he told me."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, are you bribing him?" Yang jumped in between the two men, her arms crossed in an 'X'. She looked over to Oobleck. "And you, should you really be selling dirt on people like this?"
Sip. "It is a time-honored tradition of the Vytal Festival, I'm afraid."
"Whatever happened to fair play?"
Roaring guffaws bounced off the walls. Jaune collapsed into a seat, pounding the tabletop in his mirth. As the cackles continued unabated, heat rose to Yang's cheeks. Anger followed suit to color her eyes red.
Yang didn't think what she said was wrong. Schemes and deceptions, tricks and lies, the transfers haven't shown anything worthy of emulation in her mind. True strength came from the improvement of one's self, and true honor came from the crossing of fists. Her father said that there was an honesty in the best of battles, where one could almost see the conviction and soul of their foe. Yang caught a glimpse of it, fighting against Jaune. That battle had meaning. That man, she respected.
This Jaune, and the sterile, subdued, boring fights he proposed, disappointed her.
Professor Oobleck waited for Jaune to recover, then addressed Yang's protest.
"As I've said Ms. Xiao-Long, it is a tradition by this point. With the reputation of the Academies at stakes, and that of their respective Kingdoms, many lines will be crossed."
"And I don't get why we can't just- just stay above it all!"
"Look, Yang, those are pretty words. And if I could win through sheer prowess, I would." Jaune cut in, and Yang heard the first notes of ire in his voice. "My teachers taught me how to use my knife. What I am is a culmination of their efforts, and I want to give a good showing for them."
"Then-"
"It won't help on tournament day, and I will lose in the first round." He said flatly. "Someone with a list of specific plans to defeat me will stomp me into the dirt. They'll humiliate my team in front of the world, and yours too."
"As we are, maybe, but there's half a year to practice and become stronger. In that time, we'll pinpoint our weaknesses and fix them. It won't matter what petty tricks they play." She narrowed her eyes. "If you followed the advices Goodwitch gave, you'll be doing better." The two were inches apart, now.
"Do you think the other schools will wait for us? The fights in Combat class are going to get harder, because they'll improve their abilities and adapt their strategies to any new technique we reveal. We have to join the game or they'll pull ahead and stay there forever." Her finger jabbed into his chest.
"If we take that as an excuse to stoop to their level, I think that any victory would feel pretty hollow at the end of it all."
"The more wins I have under my belt, the happier Melanie and Miltia will be. That's worth it for me, personally."
"And that's selfish. The rest of-"
"Oh please, our teams-"
"-our principles-"
"-over the moon-"
Fwooooooosh!
Fire (and a lingering scent of coffee) licked over the two blonds, and they screamed in unison, clinging to each other. The flames of her hair winked out, and Jaune's Aura faded back into thin wisps.
Hang on, when did they start amping up? And where did that flamethrower come from!?
"Do excuse me. Your argument was heating up too much for my taste, so I thought I would fight fire with fire."
Heh. Ok, Oobleck's cool now… and so am I because the fire's gone Yang you genius!
Unaware of the comedic gold taking place, the other blond pointed to the weapon in Oobleck's hand. Specifically, the barrel of the flamethrower that looked very much like…
"Is that your thermos?"
"Yes."
"Those dimensions can't possibly work!"
"Is that the most pressing issues you can think of? Perhaps you would be more curious to know why I saw fit to interrupt you two with a deadly weapon. And if you're interested in studying the blueprints for Antiquity's Roast to understand its mechanics, meet me after class tomorrow."
Seeing the two students have settled down, Oobleck returned his flamethrower to the form of a thermos and took a sip.
"What I see between you is a conflict of your histories, and one that would not be so easily resolved by shouting at each other." Sip. "Many students have come through the doors of this Academy, each from their own walk of life, each with their convictions. Some would clash the moment they met, and from that came a lifelong enmity. They double down on their positions, you see." Sip. "The other side of that coin are those who reserved their judgment, and watch each other for their full four years of Beacon. From that, I have seen both students change as they take the best of the other to refine themselves. They usually leave Beacon with a lifelong friendship. Usually."
Bartholomew Oobleck sighed, and his eyes took on a faraway look as if lost in memories. After a moment, he gave a rueful chuckle, and adjusted his glasses.
Those thick lens don't do his face justice.
"The first semester has yet to end. I am not asking either of you abandon your Way, but please, do not dismiss the views of your fellow Huntsmen and Huntresses so soon."
"Wait, me too?"
"Your eyes are colored with its own biases, Mr. Arc, do not deny it. Tricky men like you tend to look down on straightforward warriors, seeing them as simple brutes."
"Eheheh."
Jaune rubbed the back of his head, abashed. He caught Yang's eyes, and they held an unspoken conversation. His brow rose, as if to ask for her thought. She glanced from the boy to Oobleck, considering their choices.
Reserve judgment, the professor had said. So, she nodded and stepped back, giving Jaune the floor.
"Sir, we really could use some information on the other schools, at least to even the playing field so that our training can make a difference. Is there any way you can let us look at the student files?"
Here, Oobleck became rather uncomfortable.
"I'm afraid I must disappoint you, in part." Yang tilted her head, and so did Jaune. "I have access to the third- and fourth-year information. You are likely seeking the first-year files which, as it happens, are guarded rather zealously by each schools until after a tournament ends. Along with the second-years. Ostensibly, it is because other Academies won't need these files as only third-years and above would take missions outside their respective Kingdoms."
In other words, they've put official policies in place to game the tournament. How deep did this rabbit hole go?
"This is the advantage that made the lower-years such viable contenders in the Vytal Festival. The older students have their experience and longer training, and a few tricks they developed since the last tournament. You have the element of surprise."
Jaune recovered from the revelation before Yang did. While she stood open-mouthed, he rubbed his chin in thought.
"That explains the cutthroat competition among our year. They're countering our advantage pretty hard, those conniving bastards." Yang pointed out the bigger issue.
"Why haven't any of the professors warn us?"
"There is an informal agreement of sorts among the faculty of the four Academies, where we refrain from blatant favoritism, especially on the part of the hosting school." Sip. "I somewhat agree with the idea. We should not be your leaders in all matters. So, I wait for those who ask. As the headmaster is fond of saying in his opening address-" Recalling a certain demotivating speech, Yang answered at the same time as Jaune.
""-It is up to you to take the first step.""
They then proceeded to curse the headmaster in tandem. That the students of Atlas, Haven, and Shade had carried out the same plan at the same time was proof of the 'informal agreement' being worth less than the paper it was printed on.
Jaune Arc might have a point with his way of thinking. No one told her she would be surrounded by sharks!
Beacon Fountain, late afternoon
Pyrrha
"Sun Wukong squealed on everyone except his team. Blake and I will continue our questioning."
Blake
"(=^・ω・^=)"
Nora
"Gdwich chas. Rnning now"
Ren
"Nora and I were discovered while spying on a team's training. Professor Goodwitch is not amused."
Ruby
"Team Ice Flower reporting!"
"Soldiers showed up when Weiss requested for Atlas student files at the CCT Tower."
"We're laying low in Vale."
"You should see the hotel room Weiss booked for us!"
"Floor. Hotel Floor. (°Д°)"
Weiss
"It was a perfectly legitimate request. I did nothing wrong."
All in all, it has not been an encouraging day. Jaune pocketed his scroll, and leaned back against one of the pillars that encircled Beacon's fountain. Yang, sitting next to him, looked up when she heard the scroll click shut.
"So, I'm guessing from your face that things are going badly."
"We have something on Haven, but I can't say how accurate it'd be. Atlas and Shade are still complete mysteries. I wouldn't say things are bad, just not ideal."
Of course, he expected a certain degree of setbacks. Uncle Hei regularly conducted spying operations that took days or weeks; months, for some. Not every effort paid off, and a lot of plans were scrapped halfway through.
The issue had more to do with all the easiest avenues closing off so soon. The CCT and Oobleck were quick methods to get complete and comprehensive data, except the Academies anticipated such schemes long ago. Peeking into the various teams' training sessions could result in fairly reliable information, but were again expected by the transfer students. They had leverage over Sun, but he turned out to be tougher than Jaune thought and anything he said required a second source as confirmation.
His best options spent, Jaune moved on to the more passive ways of staking out their competition. Rather than searching for direct, yet guarded, information like powers or techniques, he'd watch their behaviors and patterns in daily life. As his matches against Beacon students like Sky proved, half the battle was knowing how your opponent thought.
Hence, their lounging in a high-traffic area. Here and there, boys and girls gathered in their little cliques or quarreled with those from other schools. Newfound friends met or, as Oobleck predicted, lifelong rivalries developed. What a fascinating tableau it made, a dozen stories unfolding before his eyes.
"This is just people watching."
"Do you have an objection to everything I do?" Yang waved a dismissive hand.
"Nonono, this is your least questionable action so far. But if we compare this to my team practicing a combination attack- well, you have to consider the rate of improvement." He groaned.
"You're not wrong. Buying the intel off someone would have been faster by far. But don't knock this method, yet. There's a lot to learn here. Just try is all I ask."
His partner for the day scanned the crowd, giving her best attempt to see what he saw.
"There's a girl on a hoverboard, is that what you mean?" Jaune snapped his finger.
"Exactly! She's petite and mobile, and that thing floats pretty high up. I'll bet she's a slippery one. We'd need to have a way to catch her."
"She probably fights like Ruby." Jaune raised an eyebrow, and Yang explained. "Like, the board is a stand-in for Ruby's Semblance. This girl can dart in close for a melee attack, then escape to range."
Not bad. Not bad at all. He jotted down her words.
"Now, you're getting it. Follow what she's looking at."
The green-haired girl was a spectator to a growing confrontation between Cardin Winchester's circle of friends and a trio of casually-dressed boys; Vacuan, by their choice of fashion. Their voices continued to rise in volume as time went by and more participants joined one side or the other. The argument itself hardly mattered, something about taking up space as if the fountain square lacked any. With the egos of Remnant's elite youths coming into play, a shoulder bump can start a war.
"Ooooh, drama. I should have gotten popcorn." Jaune palmed his face.
"I was hoping you'd spot the girl in the back."
Said girl stood off to the side of the growing crowd, sporting a red-and-white hoodie coupled with a beanie covering one eye. Innocuous at first glance, one might think she was another bystander and not worth a second look with the prime entertainment nearby. Jaune allowed Yang a moment to observe the girl, then explained.
"Watch what her hand does." They did so, and saw the girl signaled for another Shade student to join the argument. "My guess? She's stoking the argument and this is a ploy so she can analyze our classmates. That, or Cardin did something stupid to make her angry." Yang giggled.
"She's their version of you! Schemers everywhere, I swear."
"Tacticians, thank you. But yeah, take her down first in a team fight."
Though he said that, Jaune suspected that the girl won't make it easy. Where he would stand in the thick of the altercation and shout orders, his Shade counterpart appeared to prefer surveilling the battlefield from a distance. Her eyes panned across the square, taking note of every detail, until they passed over Jaune's position and snapped back to meet his stare. Beanie Girl froze like a deer in headlights, realizing that she had been caught out. In vain, she made frantic hand gestures to her teammates, who were focused on Cardin's crew. They've begun shoving each other, but have yet to throw a punch.
Holding her gaze, Jaune scribbled down a note, and waved.
"You're evil." Contrary to her words, Yang was clearly enjoying the byplay. "What did you write?"
"Draw her teammates in deep, and they might ignore her orders."
"I'll remember that. Who next? Who next?" Jaune grimaced.
"That's about it for now." The other blonde turned towards him, exuberance fading. "The best I can categorize the rest as would be 'thuggish'. That's how these things go. It flares up a bit and we get some nice tidbits, then it peters out and we wait."
"Boo! I was starting to have fun."
Dammit, he was, too.
"Blame those guys. They puffed up like peacocks, then kept circling each other. What a letdown. A fight could get me some good info."
"Really."
Even Cardin held back from throwing hands. On the other side, Beanie Girl successfully reined back one of the loudest participant, which bled some of the tension away. He had witnessed many a would-be fight over the summer with the same ending. The inflection point has passed, and without a spark the charged atmosphere would deflate like a balloon. Sitting back against the pillar, Jaune made himself comfortable.
"Ah well. Let's bunker down and watch for the next opportunity."
"Screw that."
Yang bounced to her feet, dusting off her uniform skirt, and marched away without another word. The abrupt departure left a surprised Jaune in its wake. He had to admit, it hurt to be abandoned so. Forlornly, he called out.
"Hey, did I do something wrong? Yang!" She spun around, walking backwards now. He thought she would look annoyed, or bored, but Yang wore a beaming smile.
"It's cool! I'm just not cut out for the waiting game."
Oh. Figures. He drooped in dismay.
She continued. "My dad always told me to make my own opportunities, so you better thank me later."
What?
Jaune met her gaze again. This time, he noticed another detail. Yang wore a beaming smile…and crimson eyes.
"Beacon, represent!"
With that battlecry, she blasted a fist into the face of a gray-haired boy from Vacuo. Gleefully, she became the spark to reignite the conflict.
The Huntsmen and Huntresses of Shade howled in outrage and, dare Jaune say, a joyous bloodthirst as they descended on the blond brawler. The Beacon contingent answered the charge by throwing themselves bodily into the fight. They whooped and hollered in approval of her attack, as if they were waiting for exactly this outcome.
And they were, he realized. Both sides wanted this, they just needed an excuse. Their school, and their Kingdom by proxy, piled expectations upon the shoulders of these young men and women, then forced them to live alongside their opponents. Weeks of clashing egos, fraying nerves, and veiled insults have worn down all patience, and these warriors reveled in the chance to bare their fangs.
He pitied the ones from Vacuo. For in the very center of the battle, where Beacon met Shade, a flower danced- no, a monster raged- no!
Flowing grace in one moment, power overwhelming in the next, its laughs tinged by joy and mischief and arrogance and fire, a dragon reigned supreme.
Twirling and spinning on feather-light steps, Yang wove her way through an opponent's guard to launch a devastating uppercut. A dodge became a block became a counter, as she brought down her next foe.
A green-clad girl tried to tackle the blonde, and screamed when Yang picked her up and flung her over the crowd. A poor soul tried to grab her hair, and ate a backfist that took him off his feet. Another succeeded, and found himself with a fistful of fire burning his fingers. Letting go, he moaned in pain, and never saw the hand grabbing his hair. He flew in a beautiful arc to follow the girl in green.
Shade's finest was challenging Beacon's brawler in a fistfight, and their fangs shattered against the might of Yang Xiao-Long. They stood no chance.
That was, until their strategist took the field.
Under Beanie Girl's direction, the students of Shade divided. Half surged around Yang to engage her Beacon allies, pushing hard to buy time. The rest surrounded Yang, and adopted the hunting tactics of wolves to attack in twos and threes. The brawler ducked a kick, parried a wild punch, and stumbled when a deft hand caught her right wrist and pulled.
The first hit she took, was when knuckles met her cheek. The girl retaliated in kind. The next came from the left, and the third struck low. She made them pay for it with an elbow and a stomp, but the tide was turning. The fourth, fifth, and sixth attack to slip past Yang's guard broke her focus, and she never saw the seventh coming like a freight train, aimed at the back of her head.
The only warning she had was the attacker's cry of victory.
"Take this, you bit-bi-bi-bi-bi-bi-"
The fighters of both sides stopped and stared at the dancing, stuttering ambusher. Then, they peered behind him to where Jaune, shirt buttons torn off and blue tie lost in the melee, was checking over his long knife with a detached expression. Jamming the blade against the boy's lower back once more, he thumbed the switch a touch harder than the first time.
"Buh-b-b-b-b-b-ugh"
This time, the would-be backstabber sank to the ground in a smoking and twitching heap, bested by a superior backstabber.
The knife spun in a flourish, coming to rest on a shoulder. Jaune cocked his head, and met Yang's incredulous stare with a smirk worthy of a fox. Or a Malachite.
Nothing beat stealing the show.
"Why do you have your weapon on you?"
"Why don't you have your weapon on you? Seriously, if I had itty-bitty circles on my wrists that turns into shotguns, I'd never take them off."
This blond learned from his mistakes and, like his partner Pyrrha, went everywhere with the knife hidden under his jacket. He had an easier time of it, since Milo and Akuo measured almost a half longer and twice wider than a wakizashi. Yang, and her bracelets, had no excuse.
"Isn't that a little dangerous?"
"This is a Huntsman Academy. They know what they're getting into."
"To you, I meant."
True to her words, the previous hostility reserved solely to her had split to include him. Yang Xiao-Long was no longer the biggest, baddest target.
"I'm counting on it." Yang grinned.
"So long as you're sure."
Then, she got right back into it, leaping for the biggest combatant. Jaune followed in her wake, and the world moved again in a whirlwind of violence.
One might think bringing a knife to a fistfight would effectively end the battle in their favor. The truth, more often than not, was that it did little more than escalate the conflict. A pair of tonfas slipped out here, a set of metal knuckles flashed there, and those with weapons began to dominate those without.
Hidden arms must be in vogue, because nearly a quarter kept something about their person. Good to know.
The next opponent was built like a tree trunk. He held one fist in a palm and, leaning into his greater weight, the boy delivered a downward blow. Sheer crushing force slammed into Yang's crossed arms and sent a shock through her bones. The two strained against each other, pitting strength against strength.
A blade slid around Yang's waist to stab the boy in the stomach. Doubling over, his falling head met the brawler's rising knee. Jaune and Yang advanced past him without a second glance.
They came face to face with a dainty, delicate, demure girl, the kind that exemplified all the traits of a 'damsel'. She brandished a short club in shaking hands, and her clumsy swing started too far away to even hit Yang, whose confusion turned to consternation when the club extended to the length of a baseball bat inches from impacting her head.
Quick as a flash, Yang bent backwards. It wasn't fast enough to avoid the club clipping the very tip her nose, and she yelped in pain. Behind her, Jaune got a chance to see the damsel's heart-shaped face take on a feral battlelust. He also noted that the club was a baseball bat.
What a terrible design choice.
On the second swing, Jaune placed a hand to steady the off-balanced brawler, and reached past her to lock his blade with the bat. Then, his knife scraped along the length of the club until it touched her fingers.
"Oh sh-"
He thumbed the switch on his long knife's hilt, cutting her off with a pulse of Lightning Dust zapping her arm. Her curse became a cry, as she dropped the bat.
Really, not even a basic crossguard installed? There's such a thing as staying too true to form.
The girl looked from the bat to him to Yang, who cracked her knuckles, and nodded sagely.
"Screw this." She flipped them off, before diving away into the crowd.
At this point, the unarmed combatants of Beacon and Shade largely found themselves on the back foot, and some had faces that said they might withdraw altogether.
Others gnashed their teeth or cursed, but made up their mind. One by one, they glowed. Shades of green, yellow, gray blueredpurplebronzeorange- way too many colors burst forth, as the losing students activated their Semblances to regain the edge.
Some sort of plant growth Semblance spread a carpet of twisting vines in a circle around a Faunus student from Shade, tripping up fighters of either schools. Another student, in overalls, jumped high in the air to stomp on the people below, then repeated again and again like a particularly violent kangaroo.
As more Semblances and weapons came into play, Jaune and Yang received less attention (and attackers) for themselves. Any who entered their range earned a quick beatdown of fists and knife, while the rest decided to chase easier targets, giving the blonds a reprieve. The two caught their breaths, and swept their gaze over the battle they've sown.
"Whatever happened to hiding your capabilities?"
"This?" Jaune held up his knife. "I thought it was worth trading for this scene. All these powers, weapons, and tactics on display made for one hell of a treasure trove. That, and…I have to thank you."
"You're welcome, dude! Thanks for having my back." Jaune shook his head.
"It's not just for the chance to get combat info. You've also solve a conundrum of mine." He mulled over his next words, wondering how much he should say. Then, he took a chance. "Coming to Beacon, I was terrified of losing. I had to win, and keep on winning to establish a reputation, was my thinking. To be the ever-victorious challenger."
"That could never last. You proved that to me in The Club." Yang smirked. "By beating me into the ground."
"Ha! Yeah. I've set an impossible goal for myself. Me losing at some point this year is an inevitability, and trying to change that did nothing but stressed me out. There simply wasn't a way. But then you punched that Shade student."
"I punched a lot of people. What's special about this one?"
"You did it outside the arena." Yang quirked an eyebrow, asking him to explain. "It sets up a different venue that suits me far more than combat class ever did. Look at this mess." He pointed to the ongoing melee. "I wasn't limited by the rules. More importantly, you shored up my weaknesses. We were invincible here. Now, imagine if we had our teams, too."
She did so, and a bit of drool slipped from the corner of her lips.
"Oh, Jaune. Ohhhhhh, why do you do this to me? We have to make that fight happen."
"Hehehe, we will. There's Atlas and Haven, plus Shade will come back for more. But you see? It's still a certainty that I'll lose in combat class, but I can accept that. I'll just use these kinds of battles to build my legend."
The other Academies were too prepared, and try as he might, Jaune lagged behind on two fronts. His training has a ways to go, no matter his rate of improvement. He knew this for a fact since the first day, and counted on information, strategy, mind games, and deceptions to serve as his equalizers. Well, now the transfers were employing those same methods. He won't stand a chance under his previous plans. In came Yang Xiao-Long to shatter the board.
He had never felt so free.
Yang nodded along to his words, and began limbering up.
"I like your plan, and I'm taking it for myself. How does 'The Mighty Dragon of Beacon' sound to you?"
"…Doesn't quite roll off the tongue. Though now that you mention it, I kinda want a nickname, myself."
"You're not going to get it by standing around. Coming?"
Jaune still preferred his way of fighting, following the lessons his teachers taught. There's something reassuring about lining up the pieces beforehand, and the best victory was one where he knew he'd win going in. The certainty has its appeal.
Yet, there was a thrill in letting go of that certainty, in risking defeat or pain or ridicule. In standing on a stage behind a club, or a broken dancefloor surrounded by fire, and showing the world all that he was.
They've taught him that, too.
So, Jaune placed his knife on a shoulder, and faced the chaotic scramble. Then, he dove in headlong.
It felt like coming home.
-o-
Her first fight with him was the best loss she had. It revealed an ugly side to herself, and made her want to change.
And maybe, just maybe, fighting him again could help her recapture that moment of clarity, of the realization that something about her could be so much better. What heights could she reach, with him as her rival?
He didn't fight like her, and she can't find herself approving of all that he does. The careful planning, the schemes, the tricks. Those were his preferred methods, gaming the battle until the outcome was a foregone conclusion. They were the ways of the weak, in her eyes.
Yet, looking at him now, analyzing every foe before he struck them down, she cannot say for sure that she would win their rematch. Even if she trained until she coughed blood or clad herself in armor, she suspected he would find a place to slide his knife.
In truth, he terrified her. For here was a monster that can see a hundred ways to slay a dragon. Then he fought by her side, and she never felt more sure of victory.
And that, was Jaune Arc's secret.
He fought like he's the weakest.
But really, that's why he was strong.
What a fight their rematch will be. Someday.
Author's Notes:
"Shoo, perv," sighed Yang.
Su. Per. Sai. Yan.
Sorry, but not really.
Wingwoman Yang knew not what she wrought. Poor Sun. Again.
A snippet of an idea turned into this. No regrets. Working on a chapter for The Agent this week.
Also, for those who wanted to know who the unnamed girl last chapter was...well she's nobody. When I refer to her as a background shadow person of Beacon in the chapter's endnotes, I really am talking about those silhouette placeholders. Yes, I'm serious.
