Chapter 50 Beacon Days 31
Team JNPR's Convenience Store, late night
The last shift on a weekday at Juniper Berries was always an island of calm amidst the excitement of Beacon. The store didn't usually get many customers at a time like this. A few odd souls may slog across the campus, come looking for snacks and drinks, but they don't stick around for long. A quick ring-up at the register would send them on their way. Aside from that, it's peaceful here.
Jaune and Ren were manning the store tonight, set up behind the long counter with their textbooks, notes, and other study materials. In the long hours, it helped to have something to do, and the downtime between customers allowed them a chance to complete their homework. Money's important, but academics mattered, too. It went double in their circumstances, since a major stipulation for this venture's continued operation required them to maintain good grades. Team JNPR were thus a studious lot, or at least strive to be for the flightier members, i.e., Jaune and Nora. Nerds, for all their unabashed delinquency (of which Pyrrha 'Robo-Kylla' Nikos was absolutely included).
"Ren, what's the airspeed velocity of an unladen Nevermore, again?"
"An Atlesian Nevermore or a regular Nevermore?"
Jaune cocked an eyebrow. "I didn't realize there was a difference."
"The Atlesian Nevermore must contend with the arctic gale. In response, they are bigger and hardier than Nevermore of the warmer climes. Even unladen, their bone plates weigh them down, but they compensate for it with a powerful wingbeat."
"Huh. I wonder if they have to use different strategies in Atlas to deal with that. Alright, give me the airspeed velocity of either, then."
"Who knows. Why does it matter?"
Calmly, Jaune placed his pen down on top of the papers…and proceeded to pinch the bridge of his nose, tired eyes shutting in exasperation.
"Thanks, Ren. Cool lecture. You should work on making it relevant next time." He heard a sigh from the other boy.
"I was trying to lead you towards figuring it out yourself. It's a trick question. You should have killed the Nevermore upon seeing the thing, instead of letting it fly free to reach its optimal speed. Ergo, the airspeed velocity is moot. A simple zero."
What? What!? He whipped his head around to look at Ren—in awe.
"Of course! It's so obvious in hindsight!" Promptly, he filled in the answer box, then jotted it down on a flashcard. A question like that was bound to appear on the mathematics exam. "And here I was, trying to calculate a number. Man, I feel dumb."
It's a recurring issue he knew of, but has yet to resolve, where taking public school math classes screwed him over in Beacon. Time and again, he fell into the trap of putting importance on theoretical equations instead of tackling the problems through the practical, goal-oriented mindset of Huntsmen and Huntresses.
"Let's see, next question… I'm ten minutes from the village. Vector of attack by the flock is so and so degree, yada, yada…function of time and distance equals I flare Aura to attract them to me." Beside him, Ren nodded in seeming satisfaction that Jaune was taking his lesson to heart.
"Other acceptable choices are to present yourself as a big threat by shooting an explosive at them, or think bad thoughts." Because Grimm operated on a set of basic drives, which rendered them manipulable. Instead of figuring out the pace one must run to intercept their course, a Huntsman can act. How logical!
"...You know this can't really be called math anymore, right?"
"Of course, Jaune. But the curriculum had to adapt with the times. This is the natural extension of what students learned in the lower combat schools."
"And yet we have people who can calculate the trajectories of bullet ricochets."
"Put it down to the cool factor. It's a powerful motivator to learn."
-o-
A peckish Jaune Arc leaned over and down on his tall chair, stretching out his hand, wiggling the fingers in a vain attempt to reach the minifridge. The very tip of a nail scratched the edge of the fridge's door.
So close! Almost there! With a burst of effort, he pushed his body past his limit!
A wobble, and Jaune's eyes grew round.
The chair he was sitting on started to tip. Trying to sit up, he discovered that his posture had extended too far, being near horizontal. His legs were off the ground, and there's no purchase to be found. The floor accelerated towards his face.
"Aaaaaah!" Tucking in his head, Jaune landed on his shoulder and, in one smooth motion, rolled to stand on his feet. Arms spread wide, he exclaimed, "Haha! The days of me face-planting from a chair are long over!"
Rule #3 and the dozen odd falls from a barstool sure has paid off. It went to show that the smallest lessons can lead to profound results; in this case, the avoidance of complete and total embarrassment.
"That was quite the production," Ren said, dryly. "Most people would simply get up and walk."
"Yeah, but I was feeling lazy~"
"You've now exerted more effort."
"Ah, but had I succeeded, I could have saved myself the trouble of leaving my spot. It's a gamble I was willing to take."
"Clearly." His teammate deadpanned while eyeing the fallen chair. Grinning, Jaune hooked a foot under the seat and kicked it to an upright position again. Were someone to look now, it was as if nothing bad ever happened. And thus the façade of coolness was maintained.
Taking the three steps necessary to get to the fridge, he opened the door, and the smile dropped from his face. It's a perk of running this place that the team could set aside choice morsels for themselves in here, and so ensuring their favorites survive the depredation of the hungry masses. That wasn't the case tonight. Much of the shelves laid bare.
"Well, that's disheartening. We're out of the mealsets."
"I think Nora and Pyrrha dusted off the last of those after their afternoon workout. There are cake slices if you want some."
"Meh. I'm feeling meat and veggies." His stomach agreed, growling in complaint. He bit his lip in thought and cast a considering gaze to the deli display case at the back of the store. Forget sandwiches or snacks, this one stocked the crown jewels of student life: ready-made boxed meals.
Buy, open, eat; it didn't get any easier than that, yet each set offered the complete experience of a home cooked dinner. From nutritionally-balanced to decadent excess, a vegetarian's delight to carnivore's dream, the choices would run the gamut to suit all tastes. Artfully composed, each box presented a colorful ensemble of ingredients nestled in their respective partitions, waiting to be mixed and matched in the order of the eater's preferences.
They sold well, meaning very few sets remained by the last shift. Some did, however, and among them there's one that would just hit the spot.
Katsudon boxed meal. Breaded pork cutlet, deep-fried then cooked in a pan of broth alongside onions and eggs, garnished with scallions. Served with rice. Complemented by side dishes of cabbage salad and pickled vegetables. A packet of katsu sauce was included. For dessert, two chocolate chip cookies. 778cal.
His mouth watered and Jaune checked the clock. Since they did not keep fresh for long, the meals became slated for disposal at the end of the night, placed in the team fridge if edible tomorrow or in the trash if it would go bad. Unfortunately, right now was a little too soon, being an hour until closing time. If he went for it, he'd be skirting the common practice their team generally stuck to that said whatever they wanted they kept behind the counter, and anything out there was reserved for the customers. Waiting would involve going hungry, though. Decisions, decisions.
His teammate solved the quandary. "Just say you've clocked out early. Then, so long as you pay for it, you're considered a customer."
It's amazing how far one can twist logic for self-serving purposes. Pure genius.
A quick thanks and Jaune was hopping over the counter. His exit coincided with the *ting-a-ling* of the shop bell. A headcount led to him blanching a bit upon seeing a dozen people, give or take. Ren could handle these numbers, sure, but it was still a hell of a thing to drop on him right as Jaune bailed out. He'd have to make it up to the guy.
Jaune stalked down the aisle on a direct course to the display case. Music accompanied his steps, haunting melody and electronic beat playing from speakers set above. His shoes tapped and danced in time with the song, occasionally squeaking as they slid on the clean tiles.
A similar sound came from the next aisle to draw his notice. Turning his head to look there, he met an unfamiliar face glancing back at him; a quirk of an eyebrow and they snapped their face forward. The oddity raised the alarms within him. It reminded Jaune of preludes to past ambushes. All at once, his surroundings sharpened into focus.
Past that student, others traced their own routes through the store. A surreptitious peek on the opposite side revealed a similar development. His ears detected a set of footsteps to the rear, too. Altogether, it accounted for most of the customers who came in just now, and they either engaged in the same game of sizing up one another or directed their eyes towards the back of the store, attention riveted on…on the deli display case of boxed meals.
More than a few gazes have settled on the katsudon package in particular. The last katsudon.
Nuh uh. No way. It's his.
He shifted to a power walk. Around him, every person there matched the pace. One started jogging. He had to follow suit, as did the rest to narrow the lead. The end of the aisles drew near, and the open space beyond beckoned to them.
On an unspoken signal, it began.
First to act, Jaune blazed blue. Ravening hunger became fuel stoking the flames that suddenly engulfed his head. From it, Aura raced down as a bolt of lightning to coalesce in his legs, barely-restrained power set to blow. Then, between one stride and the next, he vanished from sight. In his place a blur careened forth. Marking its passage was a howling wind to rattle the items on the shelves.
Not even a second, and Jaune stood before the finish line. He reached out to take the prize in hand.
Neon Katt on roller skates whipped past him left to right. Alongside her carefree laughter, a knee slammed into his cheek. His vision turned sideways, then up became down, as Jaune was launched away from the display case. Scrambling to to recover, he drove his hands into the floor, enduring as they scraped on the tiles to bring himself to a stop. Touching down in a runner's stance, he raised his head to meet smug eyes and a mocking smile.
"Katt." He snarled. "Back off."
"Awww, look at you, barking like a puppy. What's wrong?"
"The katsudon set is mine."
"Finders keepers~ Be good and I might leave you the scraps," she said, fingers wiggling slooowly towards the package to give him ample time to react. Jaune was not fooled. The sadist wanted to draw out her victory, but those eyes were also watching him for any signs of movement. A twitch, and she would abandon her game to seal his defeat.
So, Jaune stayed where he was, although his mouth stretched to form an unnerving grin.
The music from the speakers increased in volume. It played a song of roses. Soft as a lover's caress, a scythe blade brushed Neon's throat.
"Eh?"
Ruby pulled, throwing her body in the opposite direction of Neon to tow her backwards. At the same time, Jaune rushed at them. He could have gone for the katsudon. Instead, a leap took him into the air, soaring past Ruby to dropkick Dew Gayl who was about to strike his friend.
Landing, Jaune rolled over and cocked back a fist. Dew mirrored his action. They roared as one.
"My katsudon!" / "My fried chicken!"
Their hearts were set on different goals. They need not be enemies, and may still walk their separate ways. Neither did.
Two fists crossed. Jaune's hit harder, and Dew went down. For good, as it turned out, because Bolin Hori had hopped over the girl to snag the Fried Rice Fried Chicken Combo (1153cal) for himself. Her forlorn cry followed the victor to the counter, where he paid for the meal then exited the store in good cheer. Left behind, she wiped at her eyes with a sleeve to rid them of frustrated tears, before drudging off to the loser's corner (sandwich stand). A disappointed sigh, a tuna salad on white bread, and she retreated from the battlefield.
Unlike her, hope yet remained for Jaune Arc. Fighting one foe after another, he paved the path to dinner with their bodies. Flynt Coal (the real name of Music Man) intercepted him within three paces of the objective, forcing him to backstep by unleashing a barrage of punches. Jaune allowed him to dictate the tempo, fell in the same rhythm, and once he had deciphered the pattern it was a simple task to block, block, punch!
Flynt hit the floor, sliding until his head smashed into the bottom of the display case. Disoriented, he did nothing as Coco Adel casually plucked the Four-Fish Poke Bowl (635cal) and walked off, swaying her hips like a runway model. Many, including Jaune, breathed a bit easier on seeing Coco depart. Nobody dared to say she has the arms of a Beringel, but toting a minigun in a purse for years was sure to impart on someone a simian-like strength.
The battle turned desperate after two of the coveted prizes had been claimed. Evading under a swinging arm, Jaune spun on his heels to crash back-to-back with Ruby. Two allies have reunited at the center of the brawl. Needing no words, they took on all comers.
He blocked a kick from Russel Thrush, ducking just as Crescent Rose came screaming across the space he used to occupy to bat Russel aside. From his position, Jaune hooked a leg around Ruby to kick her opponent, Soy Pony, in the stomach. May's teammate was taken off his feet. His body disappeared amongst the aisle, never to be seen again (until he popped his head up above the shelves and went plodding over to the instant ramen corner).
Yatsuhashi Daichi wanted the Squid and Shrimp Salad (350cal). Jaune and Ruby obliged, giving him a wide berth and thanking their lucky stars he had such weird tastes. He, like Coco, was a contender they did not fancy their chances against in this free-for-all. Those who dared challenge him inevitably failed.
There were few who remained standing by this point. None could match the might of yellow and red. The last obstacles of Sage Ayana and Octavia Ember, newly returned from a date in Vale, ended together in a heap—though, they did not seem too unhappy by that outcome. A cleared road now led to the treasure Jaune held dear.
"Good work, Ruby! Heheheh, it's going to be good eating tonight. Which one are you taking, anyway?" Jaune asked, taking a step towards the display case.
He never received an answer. A blade struck him from behind.
"Gah! Ah?" Blindsided, confused, he could only form incoherent noises. "Wha–?"
Faster than he could retaliate, his legs were swept out from under him. Jaune landed on his knees and had to thrust out both arms to brace for balance. In this position, he saw a pair of boots walk past. His eyes trailed upward to see who they belonged to. How did they get past Ruby to attack him?
Above the boots was a red cloak.
No. No, it can't be.
"Ruby…why?"
His ally, his friend, halted her steps. She turned to reveal a shadowed face.
"I'm sorry, Jaune, but…it's katsudon, you know? With cookies." One hand rose to pull the red hood over her head, hiding any hint of her expressions. "It was always going to lead to this point."
Betrayal, anger, pain. They flashed across his mind, but soon settled into understanding. Then, acceptance.
She was right. For katsudon, for victory, it was worth everything. Her resolve simply overcame his own.
"It's your win, Ruby. Just…remember me, with every bite you take."
So saying, Jaune Arc slumped to the floor, and his eyes fluttered shut for the last time.
Ruby watched him in silence for a minute or two, her face indecipherable. A boxed meal was firmly grasped in her hands, the proof of both a great triumph and a vile act. For a second, it seemed as if she would rather throw her prize away for a chance to redo it all.
But then, the moment passed. With a sigh, Ruby vanished from place, leaving only rose petals where she once stood.
-o-
Ding!
"Food's done~ food's done~" Jaune sang as he removed the bowl of instant ramen from the microwave. Putting it on the store counter, he added a few extra tidbits to spruce up the meal, then retook his seat next to Ren.
Ramen's fine. It's no katsudon, but it'd do.
After wolfing down a few bites to warm his belly, Jaune picked up his pen once more.
"Hmmm. 'A Beowolf is biting a Huntsman. Calculate how many seconds it will take for his Aura to deplete, assuming Vale Huntsmen's average Aura level.' We'd need the bite force for the equation. What's that for a Beowolf, then? And don't tell me there are Atlesian Beowolves."
"There is."
A groan.
"It is also a trick question. Ask yourself, why are you allowing a Beowolf to continue biting you? It should be dead."
Of course!
It's amazing how many questions on the Grimm can be answered with 'just kill them, duh'.
Author's Notes: a literal Math for Dummies.
I remember with fondness the idiot that proudly proclaimed to the class, "Why are we even learning calculus? It doesn't help with real life." Frankly, he had a point. For the majority of the population, it will never be used after they graduate. For the ones designing that apartment high-rise people may live in or the bridge people travel on… well, we had better hope they aced calculus. Horrifying reality: many of them did not.
A tribute to Ben-to! , a show of pure nonsense that nevertheless struck a chord. Something about the mood, the premise, was just done right. Juxtaposition of tension and setting, perfected.
