"…From this day forward, you'll work together as Team CRDL, led by…Cardin Winchester!"

Jonathan stood amongst the crowd of his peers in the auditorium, politely clapping his hands and tapping his toes non-stop. He gazed at the stage as Professors Ozpin and Goodwitch addressed the new four-people team. Their headshots were displayed on the two massive screens above. Jonathan couldn't wait to call his family and mentor. He kept grinning that his face started to stiffen. At long last, it was time. They'd formally recognise him as a Huntsman in training. Years of hard work seemed like a distant past. Months of revisions and practices had paid off. There was nothing that could bring him down.

"We're next, no?"

Oh yes, him.

"For the last time, no. Yang's team is next, and then us."

Philip groaned. "Why is this taking so long?"

"We're taking our first step to become Huntsmen. A few more minutes isn't going to kill you."

"At this point, might as well be."

Jonathan sighed. Saying his new partner worried him would be an understatement. It was clear that whatever they taught him at home wasn't working. Part of him wanted to keep arguing with him. But even whispering back and forth could get annoying after a while.

Professor Ozpin looked at different students. "…From this day forward, you'll work together as Team JNPR. Led by…Jaune Arc!"

Jonathan clapped his hands with the crowd again. He gave Jaune a reassuring smile as he walked down the stage. Jaune's shoulders seemed to relax slightly when he saw him. With Pyrrha being his partner, his team would probably be at the top of the year. All he needed to do was keep his head straight. Unlike a certain person.

"…You're still mad," Philip remarked.

"No. I'm not mad," Jonathan replied through gritted teeth. "I was hoping my Initiation would go better. I'm used to being average. Not in the last place."

"Heh, still pretty fun though."

He rolled his eyes. "It's not supposed to be fun. But sure, mindlessly charging at the Grimm and getting ambushed by them was fun, I guess."

Philip twitched and let out a low, shaky chuckle. "Still got more than you."

"This isn't a competition—"

A few students behind them hushed them, forcing Jonathan to take a deep breath and smile apologetically. When he finally calmed down, Ozpin announced Yang's team. It was Team RWBY, led by her younger sister, Ruby Rose. While he wasn't sure how Yang was feeling, he gave her a thumbs-up as she walked past him. Her poker face turned into a grin.

Finally, Professor Goodwitch gestured at Jonathan and his teammates. He followed the others onto the stage. The many eyes on them caused him to withdraw a bit. But he straightened his back and put up a brave face. This was it.

Professor Ozpin said, "Last but not least. Grayson Moore. Ronald Winston. Philip Viewforth. Jonathan Davis. The four of you retrieved the white pawn pieces. From this day forward, you'll work together as Team GRPJ. Led by…Grayson Moore!"

Grayson stood straight with his hands resting behind his back. An air of cold authority radiated from him. Ronald hugged his arms and kept his hood up, barely looking at the people. As for Philip, he chuckled and waved at the crowd.

"I look forward to working together," Jonathan said.

Grayson remained impassive while Ronald gave him a subtle nod. It was a relief that the best pair in the Initiation was in his team. Even though there was something off about them, it was still early days. He was sure they'd get along eventually. He beamed at the crowd clapping below. This was the best day of his life.

Philip leaned closer and mumbled, "How the fuck is our name Graphite?"

Jonathan strained his smile. "Not now, Philip."

Jonathan placed his tired hand on the door handle. Despite searching through the school, he couldn't find Ronald. He ran away the moment they left the auditorium. Not a moment later, Grayson and Philip went off by themselves as well. It seemed small talk was off-limits in this team. While Jonathan struggled to think of a different method to connect with his teammates, he could use a comfortable bed.

Or he would've if there wasn't a massive blank sheet covering it.

"Ehm, Grayson?"

Grayson kept his back turned against him. "It is a parachute."

"…Why are you making a parachute?"

"It is a precaution." He pulled it towards his sewing machine and rechecked his scroll.

Jonathan's curiosity had long been depleted. He avoided the cloth on the dark hardwood floor and sat on his bed. Their single beds were pushed against the corners. His and Grayson's beds were at the far end, while Ronald's and Philip's were the closest to the door. A large, round, red wool carpet was placed at the centre. White, featureless wallpapers covered the entire room. Between the door and the beds were Ronald's and Philip's tables and wall bookshelves. In front of the windows with wine-red curtains, there was a massive, sterile-white workbench. It had monitors, sockets, clamps, drawers and shelves with obscurely specialised equipment. Also, a sewing machine.

"I'm surprised you can find the space for it," Jonathan said.

"There was no space. I asked the staff to relocate our desks, chairs, bookshelves, and wardrobes."

"Oh, I see." He frowned and looked around. "So…where did they put them?"

"Likely in a storage area."

"In what?"

Grayson turned towards him with a blank face. "You can borrow my workbench for projects. Your suitcases can house your clothes and accessories."

Jonathan rubbed his temple and let out a long sigh. It would've been so easy to yell at him. But he still wanted to get along with them. Many interesting days were certainly ahead. If there was one silver lining, he hadn't unpacked yet.

Jonathan said, "Be that as it may. You should've asked me first."

"Those were not your properties. In addition, my workbench allows us to repair and modify our gear. It is vastly more important."

A headache was coming to Jonathan. "Or we could just use the school workshop?"

"They are less equipped and of inferior quality. I have checked."

Before Jonathan could speak, heavy footsteps were rapidly approaching from the outside.

"Hey, guys, I'm back!"

A loud crack and a hairy leg speared through the door. Then, silence. Grayson stared at it while Jonathan was having a blue screen internally. It was Grayson's neutral voice that snapped him out of his shock.

"Phil, you breach a door by kicking near the locking mechanism instead of the centre."

After a few tries, he grunted and pulled his leg out.

"Better airflow then?" Philip peeked through the hole.

Jonathan let out a suppressed groan. "I-I'll let the teacher know. Don't worry about it."

Philip pushed the door open, and it closed by itself. If Jonathan didn't know better, Philip was checking the hole with pride in his eyes.

"Where have you been anyway?" Jonathan changed the topic before his sanity could slip further.

"Just been to the workshop. Did you know they even have forges here? Gas ones though. Not a charcoal one like mine."

"You have a forge?" Jonathan was genuinely impressed.

"Kind of. It's my fa…r away distant relative's!"

"O…kay? I…guess having a forge is pretty useful."

"Yup! Now, what is this ugly table doing here?"

Grayson flatly explained his thought process to the nodding Philip. He stepped on his parachute before sitting on the workbench.

Grayson exhaled. "Now that we are all present, I will explain the ground rules."

Jonathan frowned. "No? We're still missing—Oh, hello, Ronald."

Ronald lowered his hood and nodded from his bed, brushing his fringe away from his right eye.

Grayson continued, "We must have unique and concise callsigns. From now on, you will refer to me as Gray. Ronald as Ron, Philip as Phil and Jonathan as Jo. If the situation demands it, each member will be assigned as per our team sequence, with me being One and Jo being Four."

"…Okay? But why Jo? I can go with something like John or—"

"Ambiguity. Regarding our training, we will dedicate one hour at the end of our classes."

Philip caught himself from collapsing. "Like, every day?! Fuck me!"

"We will wake up at seven. Breakfast starts at eight. Our academic period lasts from nine to five. The supper commences at six. Eleven will be our latest sleeping time. That leaves four hours of leisure time. A well tolerable margin. You will also have more free time during the weekends."

"Wait, weekends too?" Jonathan winced.

"Obviously. The lack of classes should make it more palatable. But instead of starting at five, we will start at one. It will leave enough opportunities for personal affairs."

Jonathan stared at Grayson, barely suppressing the numerous complaints he had. But he should try a diplomatic approach first. He placed his hand on Grayson's shoulder and forced a smile.

"Look, I know you want to be the best. But we're in our first year. We can take it easy for now."

"We are training to become Huntsmen. Our future depends on our performance, including the first year. We cannot afford to be lax."

Jonathan thinned his lips. On the one hand, he'd never studied this consistently before. But on the other hand, Grayson had a point. For now, it might be best to follow his routine and see how it went.

Philip raised his hand. "Am I the only one who thinks this is stupid?"

"Yes."

Author's Notes:

Thus, formed Team Graphite. I have no idea if the RWBY universe has graphite. But since they use pencils, they must have?

My original team name was less original: Team GRAY. But ignoring the fact that it sounded terrible, the naming pattern didn't fit the canon. I've mixed it, and now you have no idea how to pronounce it at first glance.

See you next week.