Yakuza Arc 47 Beacon Days 28
Beacon Classroom, 7:13 PM
How long has he been here?
The hours seemed to run together as he sat immobile. Every once in a while, his body would twitch, overcome by the urge to move, to run, to fight, to act; anything other than the emulation of a statue. It took all his willpower to desist. Freedom laid just around the corner, and he'd rather not jeopardize that by tacking on an extra few hours. Or days.
Out of habit, he cast his eyes to the wall where the clock normally hung. An empty space greeted him, now. How sly- no, how sadistic of Goodwitch to take away even the last sliver of hope.
In Beacon, detentions vary from professor to professor. Some, like Oobleck, liked to assign their hapless captives with readings from a selection of books relevant to their subjects. A student might actually learn useful stuff during that kind of punishment. Port's detentions flip-flopped between an encore performance of his lectures or a trip over to the Emerald Forest for a hands-on demonstration of Grimmslaying. It's a crapshoot, but a bit of persuasion can steer him down the latter route and get the students a bit of excitement instead of the dull humdrum of sitting in a classroom. Ozpin's detentions, as Jaune had experienced for himself, tended to become too exciting.
He didn't mind any of those cases too much. Truth was, most of the professors—and especially Ozpin—failed to understand the purpose of a detention. They saw it as a time to teach or give busywork. Puh-lease. That just made the clock run out faster. He welcomed such opportunities.
Detentions existed to curb unwanted behaviors. Those unwilling to study would be forced to study. Those shirking their responsibilities would have to make up their work. Yet, that wasn't the problem in Beacon. On the whole, Huntsmen- and Huntresses-in-training were motivated to maintain their place here and murderize as many Grimm as possible. Laziness was how a person ended up cut to ribbons by Ursa claws.
No, the biggest source of Beacon's woes came from the students' rambunctious nature. Violence, quarrels, the urge to build giant guns and testfire them on the front lawn; those were the headaches for the school. Goodwitch got it, damn her, and so tailored her punishment to address the root issue.
In short, she had them do nothing. Simply, nothing. No dopamine rushes from bashing in a Grimm's ugly face. No getting ideas from reading about war tactics and esoteric Dust reactions. With the absence of the clock, they cannot even enjoy that sense of anticipation a person would feel as they watch the detention wind down. The students sit there in an indeterminable wait and stay out of trouble.
Barring a few regulars, there weren't many repeat offenders.
In careful, minute movements so as to not draw the warden's eyes, Jaune worked his scroll out from his pocket. The most fleeting of glances told him the time, and he hissed in near literal pain. A teardrop dripped down his cheek.
7:13 PM. Not quite fifteen minutes since detention began. What evil has he committed, to be consigned to this unending hell? He wouldn't last long at this rate. The boredom will take him.
For the sake of his sanity, Jaune decided then and there to risk Goodwitch's ire. He didn't so much whisper as softly breathed out the words to his fellow inmates, aided by a series of subtle hand gestures to help get the point across.
"So…what are you in for?"
The people on one side couldn't hear him, and he preferred that way since he disliked one of them in particular, but to his left Beacon's four top delinquents perked up.
With an eye on the teacher, Yang countered, "You first."
"Some family matters dragged on a bit too long," Jaune said. "Goodwitch understood, but wouldn't spare me."
"You use that excuse a lot."
"No, no. Those were Family stuff. This is family. Totally different." He hid his grin as Team RWBY looked on in befuddlement. "Anyways, back to you girls. I thought you worked off your old sentence by the end of last semester."
Ruby started to give a groan, but Yang clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound from reaching their professor. Weiss became the one to answer.
"We—" She glared at the others in a way that clarified her real opinion on who she meant. "—have earned ourselves a new one. Until further notice was how Professor Goodwitch put it."
"What did you do, blow up the Docks again?" Jaune accused.
Bunch of anarchists. Couldn't be him. Never.
Ruby shoved Yang's hand away to reply. "We fought Roman Torchwick in a giant robo-suit!"
All of a sudden, his own weekend escapade seemed a whole lot less eventful. Jaune subtly inched his seat closer to Team RWBY, all the better to hear the story.
"That's awesome! Where did you get it?"
Four faces fell.
"Actually, Torchwick was the one with the robo-suit," Yang corrected.
Oh. That's a lot less awesome. Downright disappointing, in fact. He hadn't realized until they mentioned it of just how much he wanted a shot at piloting a war machine.
The other blonde continued, "Blake wanted to find where all the White Fangs have gone." Jaune grew still. They hadn't noticed. "And since Roman Torchwick was the last person to deal with them…"
"He has to have an idea of what they're up to," Blake interrupted. "With their mindset as revolu—"
"Terrorists," asserted Yang with a bit of heat. Blake slumped.
"Yes. Terrorists," she murmured in a defeated tone. "They're not the type to give up. I know how they operate and it's when you don't see the White Fang that they're at their most dangerous."
Not in this case, but he would never let her, or any of them, learn the truth. Jaune very, very nonchalantly asked, "So you were searching for Torchwick? I'm surprised you found him. He's a slippery sort from what my Uncle said."
"Heh. About that." Yang chuckled. "Guess who told us?"
She froze at the sudden feeling of a sharp blade touching her hip.
"You went to The Club!?" Jaune hissed under his breath. "If you caused any trouble there, Xiao-Long, I will zap you like a bug!"
"Whoa! Chill, dude. I behaved this time. Just had to name-drop you, apologize to Junior, dish out dirt on you to those twins and I got the info I needed."
He peered at her in suspicion but saw no signs of lies. The knife withdrew and disappeared back under his jacket as he untensed his shoulders. To her accusatory glare, he offered a sheepish smile.
"My bad, Yang. You hit the trauma button, and my hand moved. I'll keep a rein… on it…wait, what was the last thing?"
"I apologized to Junior."
"No, after that. What did you tell Mel and Mil?"
"Oooh, a little of this, a little of that. Embarrassing things you did. People you're especially close to. They made me recount our fight with the Deathmauler twice."
In a way, he found it kind of sweet how they wanted to hear stories about him. It's also a tad alarming, because Yang might have divulged a slew of his dumber actions that he omitted when telling them of his life in Beacon. The strangest point, though…
"What did you mean by people I'm close to?"
"Don't worry about it."
He's worried about it. Unfortunately, Yang refused to say more on the matter, and ignored his questions in order to continue her tale.
"Junior pointed me to a warehouse district, so I called up everybody and we staked out the place, right? Then, we started seeing people pulling up in little clumps and going into one of the buildings." She snickered. "It looked like a sports event, they all had their own colors. I watched them for a while and realized that they were…"
Gangs.
Minor gangs, going by the descriptions of their colors and emblems, with some so new that he hadn't even heard of them. He can spot the common theme, though. The groups that showed up were at that level where they based themselves out of their leader's home and whose 'territory' amounted to a couple of streets. In other words, the kind strapped for funds to move on up in the world.
He gave good odds at least half of them would take Torchwick's money with a smile, then run off the moment he turned his back. What was the gentleman thief thinking, playing at gang leader?
More importantly, what was Team RWBY thinking, trying to act gangster?
"You didn't. You couldn't."
"I have pictures," claimed Yang. Hearing that, Weiss nearly squawked until she recalled Goodwitch was in the room, and she fell to a whisper.
"I told you to delete those!"
"Yeees, but my hand slipped and I saved them all by accident," an unrepentant Yang retorted. "We looked amazing!"
"You seriously snuck in like that? How did it go?" Jaune asked, half-disbelieving.
"They uncovered us within five minutes."
As they should. He'd be more offended if the four Huntresses passed muster. A person's clothes only make up a part of the whole. Authenticity lay in the way one stood and walked, in how they postured before others. The image of Ruby or Weiss—blinged out, baseball cap turned backwards— attempting to swagger popped into his head, and Jaune slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle. Yeah, it was never going to work.
"I'm glad our dire predicament amused you," Yang snarked. "After that, Torchwick busted out the robot. He chased us for five blocks, and once we turned the table, we had to chase him for five more. Anti-Grimm armaments, my perfect ass. It had rockets, machine guns, and two fists each bigger than a person. That thing's an anti-everything murder machine, and Torchwick took it for a joyride."
"So, a Tuesday, then?"
"We almost died!"
"A Tuesday, then," Jaune concluded. The robot was new if nothing else, but it came nowhere close to making the list of Vale's wildest moments. Now, if everybody in that fight had been piloting giant robots, and a third faction crashed the party with their giant robots, then it'd be a step in the right direction.
May that day come soon. Atlas deserved its bad rep on a number of issues, but it's hard to hate them when they're fulfilling the dream of all mankind. What he wouldn't give for a mech of his own.
Oblivious of his fantasy, Blake softly sighed in disappointment.
"It was a wash in the end. We failed to find out anything on the White Fang's plans before he escaped."
Jaune shrugged his shoulders in lieu of a reply. It looked like Blake didn't know the right people to ask, and he preferred to keep things that way, because the rumors in certain circles put him as the central figure in the debacle that wiped out the White Fang's Valean cell. He doubted his friends were ready to hear either lie or truth of that bloody story.
During this lull in the conversation, where he dithered over how to change the subject without arousing undue suspicion, his keen ears overheard another set of hushed voices. Specifically, they pricked up at a certain set of words. Turning his head, Jaune glanced at the pair of Huntsmen sitting one row up and a bit further along.
"You had to be there, dude. High heels, low tops, short skirts, so hot." The blue one gushed to the blond next to him. "Going to Vale was worth it just to see those sexy twins."
There it was again, the phrase so often spoken by patrons of The Club. He had not misheard. Although, he reminded himself, they might not be talking about the same people in his mind. Many pairs of twins lived in Vale. Some of them will be attractive. It all depended on a person's subjective opinion. He could hardly guess the taste of this guy, Wukong's partner, so he wasn't going to assume the boy was referring to Mel and Mil.
"Didn't you say that they brushed you off?" Wukong pointed out, but his friend delivered a ready excuse.
"I mean, I wasn't ready at the time. The ride over put me off my game."
"Wuss."
"Hey! You try going on Yang's motorcycle, then say that to me again. I'm ninety-nine percent sure she doesn't have a license for that thing."
He spent time with Yang. Yang visited The Club. The Club was where the Malachites lived. The details lined up so neatly that it prompted Jaune to nudge the girl to his left.
"Did those guys take part in your team's investigation?" Yang looked to where he indicated, and huffed in annoyance.
"They were there, yeah, but I wouldn't say they helped any. The two of them flaked out mid-battle. Neptune—that's the blueberry—came along with me to your place."
Yang's testimony pretty much confirmed the identity of the twins in question. Mystery solved, Jaune tuned back to the conversation, where Neptune was laying down his game plan. He played with his scroll on one hand as he listened.
"You should ask Blake to go, too. Then, when you're talking me up to those girls, I'll do the same for you with Blake."
Quite a smart idea, if unoriginal. Bringing a wingman was a tried and tested method from what Jaune observed in the nightclub. At times, usually when done by amateurs, boasting of oneself can come across as the bleating of a blowhard. The same words coming from another source carried far greater persuasiveness. The promise of reciprocal aid was a nice touch, and indeed seemed to have convinced Wukong of this course.
"But you gotta remember to check in. Offer to grab another round and we'll meet at the bar. If it looks like a go on both ends, we can trade the drinks orders."
What great teamwork, to incorporate a method of communication and provide each other a way of endearing themselves to their respective parties. Jaune found himself so inspired by the camaraderie that he had to demonstrate his own brand of teamwork, burning one of his long-held cards to press 'send' on the message he typed out.
"And what about the boyfriend they mentioned?" Sun asked, raising a very interesting point. Jaune strained his ears to catch the answer.
"I'm half-convinced he doesn't exist, but if he did then, hey, you know what they say. May the best man win."
A pithy sentiment, one which failed to take into account that a dead man wins nothing. Jaune refrained from voicing the thought aloud, though, and simply waited for his chance.
It took around five minutes for the result of his text to manifest, a short period of time that nevertheless dragged on unending. Finally, the door to the classroom burst open. An upper-year student peered inside, wild eyes scanning from left to right until they spotted Goodwitch.
"Professor! We need you outside! The trees- the trees—!"
The room's occupants, including even Jaune, tilted their heads in bewilderment. What could Nora have possibly done to garner a response like that? Shaking his head, he decided he really didn't want to know. A distraction should waylaid other people, not the one who ordered it.
Since he wasn't dumb enough to think it would work on Goodwitch twice, he'd diligently attended his detentions while saving the gambit for a moment of great need. So, as hoped, she detected not a single thread of connection between the event outside and the people in here. With a sigh of exasperation, the professor packed away the stack of papers on the desk before getting up to investigate the matter.
"Everyone, please remain in your seats until the end of the detention." With those parting words, she swept out of the room, thus leaving the first-years to wait unsupervised.
The moment the door clicked shut, all seven students surged out of their seats in order to leave. As Wukong rushed for the exit, Jaune set out to intercept the partner he left behind.
"Jaune, what are you doing?" Asked Ruby.
"I'm just going to talk to someone."
"With your knife hidden behind your back?"
"I'm just going to talk to someone."
Arriving in front of his target, he plastered on a wide grin. The unsuspecting Haven student returned the smile.
"Hi! It's good to meet you, Neptune. My name is Jaune." He put out a hand and Neptune, on instinct, clasped it in his for a firm shake. Yet, when the blue-haired boy tried to retract the hand, Jaune refused to let go of his grip. Neptune's smile became somewhat tinged by a hint of confusion. "I heard you talking about those 'sexy twins' from The Club, and I wanted to let you know that I absolutely agree with you on their beauty." The grip tightened. "I'm very lucky to be dating them."
Neptune's reply was succinct, and belied a wellspring of experience in this exact situation.
"Please, not in the face! It's my best feature!"
"No promises."
Author's Notes: Whatever happened to canon? Here's a quick update on it. Roman Torchwick scraping the absolute bottom of a leaky barrel. Blake trying in vain to get her storyline back after Jaune wrecked it. Poor Neptune's minor scene in the show now leads to his doom.
Now, let's get back to ignoring canon.
