Chapter 29. Beacon Days 17
Beacon Academy, Combat Class
A body flew high over the arena, a blur of flailing limbs trying in vain to scrabble for purchase. A hundred pairs of eyes tracked its path.
They were not shocked, not yet. Something would happen to change things around, a reversal that bordered on the miraculous…or the absurd. That was how things unfolded in previous fights they've seen and in the stories they've heard, so these men and women knew today would be the same. Such was the nature of a winning streak that everyone believed one victory built into the next until luck became fate.
The body passed the boundary of the stage. Sticklers for the rulebook, Weiss Schnee among them, immediately noted the technicality. The body has yet to touch a solid surface out of bounds. One could argue that the match has not ended. Considering the person fighting, that might well be the crux of the strategy. A hidden attack during an opponent's premature celebration of victory fitted him to a tee, a fact known to the green-haired girl in the arena and she braced herself for a countermove. In many ways, the unpredictable has become so predictable.
That body, that boy, slammed into the walls with a loud *boom*, forming a shallow indent in his shape. Gravity asserted its pull, and he slowly peeled off the concrete to freefall. With a second crash, he hit the ground and laid crumpled in a dazed heap.
In the stunned silence that ensued, a question ran through the minds of all present.
Was it really that easy?
What felled him in the end was not the result of some great battle, or a clash of will and conviction. Were anyone to ask, Reese Chloris would admit that her gambit had been but a half-formed ploy concocted in a moment's time.
And if Jaune Arc ever hear her say that, he would laugh and laugh and laugh.
Because, really. That was such a familiar story.
-o-
Another day, another fight. That's life in a Huntsman Academy, where the curriculum included a course called Combat Class and Mathematics was just a shorter name for 'How to Kill Grimm with Numbers 101'.
In a rare occurrence for him, Goodwitch had called Jaune down using the randomized pairing system before he had a chance to issue a challenge against anyone. Judging by what he knew of his opponent, though, he stood a good chance of winning. More than, in fact.
Reese Chloris, a flighty girl. Capable, but not exactly a long-term thinker. She played a supporting role in Team ABRN of Haven, and performed at her best when someone else made the decisions. Put her in a situation that pressure her to consider choices and she would likely hesitate, thus leaving herself open.
She shared a quirk common (but no less strange) among the Mistralian students ever since they arrived at Beacon, in that she regarded him as an object of wariness if not outright terror. One of these days, he will investigate why that may be so. Right now, it became another advantage he intended to exploit.
Her weapon took the form of a hoverboard, able to Mechashift into a pair of pistols. The board doubled as a melee weapon, albeit unwieldy. The sharp edges worked as a sword and the deck a shield. It can also be infused with Dust for a variety of elemental effect. She utilized a style of combat based around strafing runs from the air, with short bursts of close range attacks, culminating in a takeoff before her target can mount a counterattack.
Strength-wise, she ranked on par with Ruby, which might account for their similarities in tactics. Reese's movements can be best described as a fey dancing in the sky… and two left feet wearing roller-skates on the ground. Her hoverboard compensated for these weaknesses, a crutch that offered a crucial shortcoming in itself. The board served as her means of combat and mobility. Like Ruby, taking the weapon away will render the girl helpless.
On the other hand, her greatest advantage over him was also that hoverboard. She can reach him no matter where he ran, he cannot do the same. His sole range option consisted of chucking his knife and hoping it hit. In any engagement between them, the initiative laid with her. The instant she took to the air, he lived at her mercy.
One simple solution presented itself. The start of the match locked in her position for one, maybe two, seconds. Cross the intervening space during that window, and he can keep her on the ground with a barrage of strikes while grappling for the hoverboard. Seize control of it, and he'd end the spar then and there.
Game, set, and match. Easy.
Having formulated his avenue of attack, Jaune stepped on the stage. One hand rested in his pocket, the other swung as he walked. In that hand, his sheathed knife. He reached the starting position set ten yards apart from his opponent, faced the Huntress, and fell into a stance. Intimidation came into play, all the better to put her off her game.
Deviating from his typical pose, Jaune positioned his right foot half a step in front of his left. Grabbing the hilt, he drew his knife from its sheath to place it on his right shoulder. The other fell to his side with the scabbard gripped tight. A lean forward, a dip of his eyes to focus on her throat, and Jaune presented an altogether much more aggressive form than usual.
Something his opponent noticed. She visibly gulped.
Good. Fear led to mistakes. In the best case, it would paralyze her for a precious extra second. To exert greater pressure, he began tapping the knife against his shoulder, as if in eagerness for the fray. The motion neatly served as a distraction to draw her eyes.
Nervously, Reese shifted her grip on the hoverboard. She brought it up in a defensive guard, then lowered it for ease of mounting. A beat, and the board rose a little higher. The action betrayed the turmoil in her mind, torn between fight and flight. Beads of sweat poured down her face before the battle even started.
In his periphery, Goodwitch raised an arm in her standard ready signal. Jaune tensed as the arm fell.
"Begin!"
His left hand whipped out, flinging his scabbard at Reese's face. A blue glow surrounded him as he pumped Aura down his legs.
Whirling through the air, the sheath met the hoverboard with a *clang*; his opponent had chosen to interrupt her takeoff rather than take the hit. To be fair, it would have struck her soundly had she tried to hop on the board. Knocking her over suited him just as well. Either outcome would buy him the time needed to complete the Aura infusion.
On boosted legs, Jaune propelled forward as the hoverboard dipped. It was too late for her now, he had made it in time!
But right as the world vanished in a blur, he saw something that sent a shiver up his spine.
Reese Chloris had been unprepared for this fight. Reese Chloris was afraid of him.
Yet, Reese Chloris still intended to give her all, and her eyes had just lit up in determination. Too late for him now, he was out of time. In the next moment, Jaune discovered a glaring flaw in his special move.
Its speed may exceed the imagination, but its pathing was predictable as can be.
His foot caught on an unexpected obstacle, and Jaune went from hurtling ahead to toppling over faster than he could react. The world came back into focus just as his ankle twisted. Gasping in pain, Jaune saw the approaching form of a hoverboard driven into the ground at an angle, and Reese bracing it with her body. A blink, and his shoulder struck the top of the board.
Call it a result of clarity, instincts, or even Beacon's Mathematics course, Jaune had a vision of how the subsequent scene will unfold and with it the outcome of the match. He experienced a burst of regret that quickly gave way to relief. Then, amusement.
Today was the day. What an odd way for it to happen.
His entire body pivoted on the shoulder. Forward momentum redirected upward. Legs flipped above head. Jaune somersaulted over the girl.
It made quite a snapshot, a moment seemingly frozen in time. A boy stood upside-down in the sky, his pose almost casual. He gazed down to Remnant and, mere inches away, a girl looked up at him. Her lips were parted in surprise, her teal-colored eyes wide open in disbelief and, perhaps, a bit of hope.
This close, he could see the thoughts written on her face.
It can't possibly be this easy, can it?
Life's like that, sometimes, he tried to convey. It did not have to be her. It could have been anyone else. Yet, had it been anyone else, they would not have done it quite like her.
How improbable. How vexing.
How novel, to stand on this side of things.
All too soon, time flowed again. Jaune hurled past the green-haired girl, the empty air taking away any chance of recovery. End over end, he crashed into the far wall.
Game, set, and...
-o-
The walk back to the center of the ring afforded him a wonderful view of the audience.
Of his friends on Team RWBY… well, Yang was laughing her head off. As expected. She alone knew that he was prepared for a loss one of these days, and paid it little mind to instead focus on the more important matter of how silly the loss had been. Ruby was biting her nails, likely fretful of Yang's seeming callousness. Weiss might need rebooting, her mouth opening and closing on repeat. Blake had gone back to reading without a word.
In comparison, his team showed a much more mature and calm reaction. Ren seemed worried, no doubt concerned for his sake. Nora was tapping her hammer, as one did. Pyrrha simply smiled, one hand… on… Milo…
He might have to talk to his team before they wreak vengeance upon the Haven girl in his name.
As for the rest of the class, he noticed that not many have cheered for the girl. At least, not yet. Instead, what he saw was a simultaneous exhalation of relief by most of those in the stands. He must have done a better job building his reputation than he thought.
After relief came joy. The corners of mouths twitched as grins threatened to break out on their faces. The shadow he casted over Combat Class has lifted. That one, he could not blame them for. His fights adhered to his teachers' tenet that anything goes and all was fair. Depending on his feelings of the person, taunts and humiliation were on the table. It must have been difficult for these innocent souls, waiting with trepidation for the day he called their name.
What he could not abide, were the hints of condescension that followed. Smiles turned into sneers. Whispers reached his ears, detractors using his one loss to fuel a scathing dismissal of his capabilities. By the day's end, the story would spread to all corners of the campus.
The boy who never lost, did.
He's nothing special after all.
…
Hehe.
Hehehehe. They were underestimating him pretty hard right now, huh?
Relying on one trick was his mistake. A trick he has not mastered, doubly so. Reese deserved that win for her brilliant play, and he deserved that loss for looking down on her. However, in his defeat, he has learned. It would only get harder for his opponents from here.
As in, right now.
He shook hands with Reese Chloris and congratulated her on the victory. Niceties done, Goodwitch dismissed them and turned her attention to the match selection system.
"Cough. Professor?"
Goodwitch looked up, realizing that he had stayed put next to her.
"If you have further questions on your performance, you may see me after class, Mr. Arc. I would like to see a few more matches today." Jaune plastered on his most cherubic smile.
"About that. Since my match ended so quickly, I feel like there might be more areas of improvement I have not discovered."
The professor adjusted her glasses and observed him with suspicion, as if Jaune Arc being earnest was a ruse.
…Fair.
He flicked his gaze to the audience, and she followed it to note their expressions. The beginnings of a smirk growing on her face boded well. She did so love to tear down pride, before building up warriors. In past circumstances, he was the person on the receiving end of those lessons. Today, she had better targets.
"I suppose you have a point. What do you suggest?"
"I volunteer to fight again." The people in the stands stiffened, and Jaune's grin turned vicious. "And I would like to issue a challenge."
So what, if he lost? His legend will only end if he gave up.
-o-
Reese used the chance when everyone was focused on the stage to beat feet down the corridor to the locker room. She had her win, and she wasn't about to give it up. Someone else can have a turn, and by the gleeful smile of that Yakuza-looking guy...yeah, his opponent won't be having a good time.
Author's Notes: Following the rules of anime, Special Moves have a pretty short half-life. Third battle and someone has a counter, reducing it to a normal move.
A small scene this time. In related news, long Halloween chapter is done way early, so it should release the day of without issue!
Further writing time is being devoted to the first chapter of an odd story idea I want to release in the next week, before coming back to the next chapter of Yakuza Arc.
