Oneshot done for a friend. He wanted Ren crossdressing and getting free stuff cause of it. So yeah, enjoy.

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Weiss considered herself a rational person, one who'd seen enough absurdities in her time at Beacon Academy that very little surprised her anymore. Between Jaune Arc's inexplicable survival despite his complete lack of common sense (or Aura, as she found out from a very defensive Pyrrha), Ruby's baffling ability to eat an entire plate of cookies in under ten seconds, and Nora Valkyrie's continued refusal to obey the laws of physics (even moreso than the average Huntsman), she'd developed a certain tolerance for the bizarre.

But this...this was testing her patience.

Sitting alone across the cafeteria, sipping a steaming cup of tea with the poise of a noblewoman at high tea, was none other than Lie Ren. And he was wearing a skirt. And not just any skirt. It was the exact same design as the Beacon Academy uniform's standard skirt, worn by every female student, complete with the dark stockings and prim heels. The only difference was that Ren wore it with the same utterly unreadable expression he always had, as if there was nothing unusual about this at all. No hesitation, no embarrassment, no explanation.

It wasn't just the skirt and heels, of course. There were touches of makeup as well. A little blush on his cheeks, some gloss to make his lip shine...subtle things that slightly enhanced his slim features. Nothing caked up or trashy.

Weiss had grown up as a Schnee. She knew how to analyze situations and deduce underlying motives, but this one was slipping through her fingers like sand. Was this some strange cultural practice from Mistral? An act of rebellion against gender norms? A bizarre bet he had lost to Nora? But no, he had been doing this for weeks - long enough that some of the newer students had simply accepted that Ren was just another reserved, graceful Beacon girl, albeit a rather tall one.

And to Weiss' mounting frustration, it was working.

"Oh, Ren~" A second-year Huntress - Mina, if Weiss recalled - giggled as she walked past his table, twirling a strand of her brown hair between her fingers as she held out a small, wrapped parcel, "I made some extra pastries last night, and I thought you might like some! You just look like you'd appreciate them."

Ren blinked once, his expression serene, and gave a small, elegant nod as he accepted the gift, "That's very kind of you. Thank you." He didn't even bother to mask his voice! That frustrated her for reasons she couldn't really articulate.

Weiss watched, flabbergasted, as Mina turned a shade of red that could put Pyrrha's hair to shame before practically floating away in giddy delight. Ren, for his part, calmly unwrapped the pastry, took a bite, and resumed sipping his tea, utterly nonchalant, "What the hell am I watching right now?" Weiss muttered under her breath.

"Same thing we've been watching for a month," Yang said, dropping into the seat beside her with an amused grin, "Our boy Ren has completely gamed the system."

"This is not a system, this is manipulation!" Weiss hissed, "This...This is fraud! He's pretending to be a girl!"

"I mean...is he?" Yang smirked, resting her chin on her hand as she lazily glanced over at Ren, who had now attracted a small flock of admirers eager to fawn over him, "He never actually says he's a girl. He just...lets people assume. And let's be real, he's always been prettier than half the girls at this school. He just finally figured out how to use it." 'Finally'? He'd been wearing a skirt ever since the first day of classes! And judging by the ease with which he did it and Nora's (uncharacteristic) lack of comment, he'd been doing it long before he arrived in Beacon.

"That doesn't make it right!" Weiss insisted, indignant, "He's exploiting people's generosity under false pretenses!"

"Oh, please, don't pretend you wouldn't do the same if you thought you could get away with it," Yang snickered, nudging Weiss playfully, "You literally grew up getting special treatment just because of your last name."

"That is not the same thing," Weiss said through gritted teeth, turning a sharp glare on her teammate. How dare Yang equate the two?! She never tricked anyone. She truly was a Schnee from the day she was born into this world. And besides, she rarely ever accepted such gifts. She knew all too well that people simply coveted her last name and were trying to weasel their way into her good graces. She would've far preferred if they kept their overtures to themselves.

Yang just grinned wider, "Alright, Schnee, then let me ask you this: do you really think Ren is doing anything wrong?"

Weiss opened her mouth to immediately confirm that yes, of course, this was completely unethical, but the words died on her tongue as she hesitated. Because technically...technically Ren wasn't actually lying. He hadn't changed his name, hadn't gone out of his way to trick people - he had just stopped correcting anyone who assumed, and he was playing up his natural elegance to lean into it. He wasn't forcing anyone to give him favors, they were doing it willingly.

It reminded her of Arc, much to her frustration. The stubborn fool kept trying to woo her with his (nonexistent) country charms and other more material things such as movie tickets and dinner invitations. She rejected them all, of course, but if she accepted without explicitly promising him anything back, she wouldn't have been wrong. On the contrary, Jaune would look like the entitled one for thinking that he was owed something because she accepted gifts he willingly gave. As if her affection was something that could be bought.

Weiss hated it. She hated that it worked. She hated that there was no rule against it. And most of all, she hated that she couldn't actually prove it was wrong.

And worst of all, it wasn't just girls treating him differently, "Hey, Ren," a male student - Jared, Weiss vaguely recalled - walked up, rubbing the back of his head as he awkwardly held out a thermos, "I, uh, noticed you drink a lot of tea, and, well, my dad owns a tea shop, so I thought, y'know, maybe you'd like to try some of this blend? It's, um, imported from Mistral, so I figured you might appreciate it..."

Ren turned his gaze to Jared, blinking once in that measured, serene way of his, before reaching out to accept the thermos with practiced grace, "That's very thoughtful. I look forward to trying it." Jared turned a bright shade of red, mumbled something about having to leave, and practically stumbled over himself retreating.

Weiss slammed her hands down on the table, "Oh, come on!"

Ren merely took another sip of tea.

Days passed, and Weiss' frustration only grew with each ridiculous instance of Ren effortlessly gaming the system.

At first, she thought the absurdity would wear off, that people would eventually wise up and stop falling for his perfectly poised, soft-spoken demeanor. But no. If anything, the sheer audacity of his scheme only escalated despite him changing nothing. It was like watching an investment that never dipped in value; something that broke the laws of reality. Ren's unspoken con continued to yield greater and greater returns, and the worst part was that it didn't even seem like he had to try.

The gifts kept rolling in.

At breakfast, some flustered first-year from Vacuo - Vacuo! Those people hated everyone outside their sandy hellhole of a country! - offered him a delicate box of expensive chocolates, tripping over his words as he assured Ren, "They're really good! Like, imported from Atlas and everything! Not that you have to eat them if you don't want to, I just thought, you know, you might-"

Ren accepted them with an elegant nod, as if he were royalty granting an audience, and said, "That's very kind. I appreciate the thought."

Weiss had to watch this boy - this scammer - receive a gift worth more than her entire daily meal budget, while she, a Schnee, had to buy her own food like some common peasant. She was used to a certain lifestyle in Atlas, but she had to start budgeting ever since she arrived in Beacon. Beacon's palate was well enough, she supposed, but outside of it? Her usual five-star meals had to be bumped down to three. Three. But she soldiered on, determined to co continue her rebellion against her father.

Much to her frustration, tt didn't stop there. In combat class, when the instructors paired everyone up for sparring, another student - a broad-shouldered Atlesian whose name Weiss couldn't recall because she was too busy seething - insisted on taking the hit for Ren when Professor Goodwitch launched a surprise volley of floating training dummies at them during a practice session.

"It's fine, Ren," the boy gasped, pushing himself up from where he had just been bodied into the floor, "You shouldn't have to get hit."

Ren, standing pristinely unscathed with his hands folded neatly in front of him, gave the poor fool a small bow, "That's very chivalrous of you." He smiled, and she swore she saw sparkles. Weiss very nearly exploded on the spot.

But the absolute last straw came when Ren casually strolled into the library one afternoon, trailed by a familiar upperclassman. Klaus Faulke, a fellow Atlesian and one of the best Dust specialists in Beacon. Even he had apparently fallen victim to whatever ungodly enchantment Ren had placed on half the student body; though at this point, saying half felt like a vast underestimation.

And in Klaus' hands? A pristine, expertly crafted case of high-quality, pure-cut Dust crystals.

Not the cheap, overprocessed Dust you could buy at any old corner store. No, this was Dust that was carefully refined, free of impurities, and probably worth a small fortune (or in her case, her monthly allowance). The kind of Dust Weiss would have to place a special order for through proper channels and wait weeks to receive. Another trial she had to deal with. Back at home, she would've received it in a day, but Father was petty and insisted on making her life difficult.

And Ren just got it.

No effort. No begging. No ridiculous paperwork or Schnee family connections. All he needed was a skirt and a pair of heels.

Ren nodded politely and looked down at the packaged luxury, "That's very generous of you. Are you certain?"

And Klaus, the absolute buffoon, grinned and nodded like a man who had just been blessed by some divine being, "Of course, Ren! I mean, it's not like I don't have extra, and you're so skilled with your Mistrali techniques - I figured you'd make better use of this than I would!"

Weiss couldn't take it anymore. She slammed her book shut so violently that several students jumped. She stormed over the moment the Klaus left, slamming her hands onto Ren's table with enough force to rattle his teacup. The student librarian looked over and seemed like she was about to reprimand her for making a scene, but a glare from the heiress made her look away.

"You have to stop this," Weiss said through gritted teeth.

Ren calmly closed his book and looked up at her. His expression didn't change, but there was the faintest tilt of his head, like he was quietly amused, "Stop what?"

"This! This!" Weiss gestured wildly at the neatly wrapped Dust box, at the surrounding students still stealing longing glances at Ren like he was some kind of untouchable goddess, "This...scam you're running!"

Ren blinked at her, "I don't recall charging anyone money."

"That's not the point!" Weiss sputtered, "You're taking advantage of people! Of their kindness! Of...Of their gullibility!"

"Am I?" Ren tilted his head, "They offered. I accepted."

Weiss' eye twitched, "You didn't correct them."

"I never lied." He shrugged, "I don't demand things or act in a way to deliberately entice people like some femme fatale. I'm simply sitting here."

"Ren, you are sitting here in a skirt, reading a book like some delicate noblewoman while people fawn over you and give you high-quality Dust! That's not normal!"

Ren glanced down at himself, as if genuinely pondering her words, before he shrugged again, "It's quite comfortable. And as I recall, Beacon has no rules saying that male students are not allowed to wear the uniform this way."

"That's not the point!" Weiss clenched her fists, feeling her last thread of patience fray, "Do you have any shame?"

Ren hummed, "Not particularly."

Weiss did scream this time. Just a little. A strangled, frustrated noise of pure, unfiltered rage. Again, the student librarian made to say something before Weiss' glare sent her packing with a squeak.

And, of course, as if the universe wanted to punish her, another student approached, "Uh, hey, Ren," a soft-spoken boy mumbled, nervously adjusting his glasses as he held out what looked like a small, leather-bound book, "I, um, noticed you liked tea, and I had this guide on different blends and brewing techniques, and I thought maybe, uh, you'd like it...?"

Ren took the book with that same placid, graceful air, fingers brushing lightly over the embossed cover, "That's very thoughtful. Thank you." The boy made a tiny, delighted noise and scurried off before Weiss could grab him and shake some sense into him.

Weiss slowly turned back to Ren, trembling with barely restrained fury. She clenched both hands and took a deep, steadying breath. She had to stay calm. Rational. Reasonable. Yelling hadn't worked. Accusations hadn't worked. Maybe, just maybe, if she appealed to Ren's morals, she could get through to him, "Ren," she said, hands pressed flat against the table, leaning forward with the most serious expression she could muster, "This is wrong."

Ren, still composed as ever, slowly looked up from his book once more, blinking as if she had just told him the weather was a bit cloudy today. His gaze was impassive and unreadable, which only made Weiss more frustrated. She was trying to have a serious discussion here, and he was acting as if she were suggesting a new tea flavor!

"You are knowingly taking advantage of people's generosity under false pretenses!" Weiss pressed on, pointing at him like an attorney about to slam down damning evidence, "They think you're someone you're not!"

Ren raised a brow, tilting his head slightly, "Do they?"

Weiss' mouth opened, the words 'Of course they do!' ready to spring forth, before she stopped. The sound caught in her throat because...well...actually, did they? She thought back to every interaction she'd witnessed. No one had explicitly called Ren a girl. He never once claimed to be anything other than himself. He merely existed, albeit in a skirt, stockings, and perfectly coordinated outfits that should not have worked so well, and just...let people assume what they wanted.

A thought came to her, unbidden. What if they knew and that was part of the appeal? Beacon wasn't exactly lacking in attractive women. Statuesque champions like Pyrrha, party girls with needless globules of fat like Yang, 'mysterious beauties' like Blake, and of course, an elegant woman of culture like herself. Even Ruby, as juvenile as she could be, appealed to someone. It was often told that there was no such thing as an unattractive Huntress, and so far, her time at Beacon had nothing to dispel that.

And yet, none of them had received gifts or looks of adoration. Just Ren. Ren with his flat chest, skirt, and high heels. Not like her at all.

"I- that's not the point!" Weiss huffed, doubling down and banishing the errant thought, "You know they wouldn't be acting this way if you weren't-" she gestured furiously at his entire being, "- like this!"

Ren took a slow sip of his tea, serene, "This?"

"This!" she repeated, even more furiously, waving at him as if that somehow explained everything.

"I see." Ren set his book down and regarded her with an even gaze, "Tell me, Weiss, how is this any different from people giving you things because you're Weiss Schnee?"

Weiss felt the gears in her head grind to a halt. She opened her mouth, shut it, then opened it again. She was suddenly reminded of Yang making the same argument a few days back, "That's...that's different!" she sputtered, pointing a finger at him as if that alone would obliterate his entire argument.

Ren's lips quirked upwards ever so slightly, "I agree," he said mildly, tapping the leatherbound cover, "It is different."

Weiss folded her arms, triumphant, "Exactly!"

Then Ren leaned forward just slightly, just enough that Weiss felt the calm danger radiating from his words, "You grew up in luxury, wanting for nothing," he said evenly, "I, on the other hand, am an orphan who has had no support system since I was seven years old." Weiss blinked. Once. Twice. The entire room seemed to go very quiet. Ren continued, utterly serene, "So yes, Weiss. Please, enlighten me. Why wouldn't I accept freely given gifts?" He tilted his head, voice as gentle as ever, "Wouldn't it be wasteful to refuse them?"

Weiss' mouth opened and closed like a fish. She made a noise. Some kind of noise that she couldn't fully describe. Something strangled and caught between an indignant gasp and the sound of a malfunctioning Dust engine.

Ren regarded her for a moment longer before his head tilted just slightly, and Weiss caught something in his gaze that made her stomach twist. His next words were quiet, "Weiss...are you jealous?"

Weiss jerked back like she'd been slapped, "What?!"

Ren simply blinked at her, calm as ever, "It would explain your fixation. My 'con', as you say it', hasn't negatively impacted you in the least, and yet you act as if I'd personally offended you. If I didn't know any better, I'd think this was less about looking out for your fellow students and more jealousy that you aren't the one receiving this attention."

Weiss' face burned and she grit her teeth before she stomped her foot, "Jealous?! Of you?! Don't be ridiculous! Why on Remnant would I be jealous of some cheap con art- "

"Ah," Ren exhaled softly, like he had just confirmed something.

Weiss bristled, "What?! What was that?! What do you mean 'ah'?! Stop acting like you figured something out!"

"It was nice talking to you, Weiss, but I must be leaving. Take care of yourself." He nodded and stood, taking his book with him. Weiss sputtered and tried to call him back, but the crossdressing boy paid her no mind at all. As soon as he was out the door, her shriek shook the entire campus.

Weiss had finally had enough.

A full day had passed since her last conversation with Ren, and in that time, she had stewed, fumed, and nearly given herself an aneurysm thinking about the sheer audacity of his scam. She had tried to let it go. She had tried to tell herself that it wasn't her problem, that if people wanted to make fools of themselves by throwing gifts at an androgynous grifter in a skirt, that was their business. She was here to be a Huntress, not save idiots from themselves.

But then it happened.

Breakfast in the cafeteria. A picturesque morning, ruined by Ren receiving yet another gift. This time, it was an ornate silver pendant, polished to a mirror shine, held out to him by some lovestruck fourth-year girl who should have absolutely known better. Weiss barely heard what they said - something about it being a family heirloom, something about how "it would suit someone as elegant as you, Ren."

Ren, of course, had accepted it with the same unreadable grace as always, he merely inclined his head, took the gift without a second thought, and muttered, "That's very kind of you."

Weiss saw red.

She stood so fast that her chair scraped against the floor, drawing a few nearby glances. But she didn't care. She couldn't take this anymore. Enough was enough. She slammed a hand on the table, took a deep breath, and announced in a loud, clear voice.

"LIE REN IS A MAN!"

Silence.

Well...not actual silence. The cafeteria was still buzzing with conversation. People were still talking, eating, laughing - and completely ignoring her as if she had just said something as banal as 'the weather is nice today'. A couple of first-years glanced over in mild confusion before shrugging and returning to their meals. A few people at the next table over paused, only to look at her as if she was the weird one before continuing their discussion about last night's movie screening.

Even the girl who had just gifted Ren the pendant barely reacted. She just blinked, then turned back to Ren and said, "Anyway, I hope you like it! I can get it engraved if you want!"

Ren, unbothered, nodded slightly, "That won't be necessary, but I appreciate the thought."

Weiss' right eye twitched. She'd just exposed him. She had declared to the world that this was all a sham, that the beloved, graceful, elegant 'lady' of Beacon was, in fact, a man.

And no one cared!

She turned to the nearest group of students - a trio of second-years who had definitely been among Ren's admirers - and gestured wildly at him, "Did you hear me?! Ren is a man!" she said, sounding almost crazed.

One of them, a tall boy with a Vacuo accent, raised an eyebrow, "Yeah? We know."

Weiss felt something deep within her fracture, "Then why are you- how are you all still-" She gestured helplessly as Ren, utterly unbothered, accepted a small tin of what looked like imported Vacuoan saffron from yet another admirer. People were literally lining up to give him gifts!

The boy shrugged, "He's still pretty."

Weiss nearly screamed. Yes, he was pretty, but so was literally every other Huntress in this school! And yet none of these...cretins were lining up to give praise and gifts to any of them! Not Yang, who bragged consistently about how hot she was. Not Pyrrha, who constantly lamented how people put her on a pedestal. And certainly not herself, despite (in her unbiased opinion) being one of the most attractive Huntresses in all of Beacon!

No, it all went to him.

She turned back to Ren and found him watching her with the same unreadable expression as always. Except this time, there was something else behind it. A hint of something that, to Weiss, felt infinitely worse than smugness.

Pity. He looked at her with quiet, almost gentle pity, as if she were a child throwing a tantrum over something insignificant. She almost slammed her hands through the table. Weiss grit her teeth so hard it was a miracle she didn't ground them into Dust, "Why isn't this working?!" she hissed, barely keeping herself from shaking him by the shoulders.

Ren exhaled softly, folding his hands in his lap, "Weiss," he said, calm as ever, "what exactly did you think would happen?"

Weiss opened her mouth, prepared to yell, but then she stopped. What did she think would happen? That everyone would suddenly gasp in horror? That there would be cries of "How could we have been so blind?!" That people would immediately stop giving Ren gifts and realize they had been fooled?

But no one was fooled. No one cared. They knew. They'd always known. And yet, somehow, Ren's grift was so powerful that it didn't even need deception to work. Weiss looked down at the floor, her expression blank. And then she looked at Ren, smiled, and walked out of the cafeteria, a woman defeated.

Ren returned to the team JNPR dorm with the same calm demeanor as always, closing the door behind him with quiet precision. Today was a good day, he thought. He assumed that the fervour would die down relatively quickly, yet it was weeks later and he still received generous gifts. Perhaps it was because they were Huntsmen-in-training. He knew from experience that while Huntsmen were well-paid, it also meant that many spent lavishly. Work hard, spend hard. The weekly Beacon stipend was generous enough that they didn't even think about buying this and that.

The second he stepped inside, he barely had time to set down his things before a blur of orange and pink barreled into him at full spee, "Ren~!" Nora practically tackled him into a hug, squeezing him tight, "You're back! What'd ya get?!"

Ren let out a quiet breath, already used to this routine, and carefully pried himself from her grip before holding up the various items he had collected throughout the day, "An imported Vacuoan spice tin, an ornate silver pendant, and a fine silk hair ribbon from Vale." The ribbon he could use. His hair was only getting longer and a high ponytail would be a nice change of pace. Besides, it wouldn't do to not take advantage of the gifts he'd been given.

Nora beamed, reaching out to poke at the pendant before sighing dramatically, "Ugh, still no pancake mix? Come on, Ren, you're slipping!"

Ren, completely unbothered, set the items neatly on his desk, "I'll take note of that for next time."

"Good!" She plopped onto his bed, stretching out with a satisfied grin, "I mean, don't get me wrong, all this fancy Dust and jewelry stuff is great, but where's the practical stuff? Like syrup? Or pre-mixed batter? Or a whole griddle?" She gave him an expectant look, "C'mon, Renny! If you're gonna game the system, at least make sure it benefits me too." Ren hummed and refrained from pointing out that she'd been benefiting for the past couple of years already.

Instead, he simply nodded, "I'll make adjustments."

Jaune, who'd been lounging at his own bed, finally looked up from his comic book, "So, uh, not that it's any of my business, but I still don't really get why you're doing this." He scratched his head, looking puzzled, "Like, okay, I helped with the makeup 'cause my sisters used me for practice growing up, but I kinda thought this was a one-time thing. You've been dressing like this since day one."

Ren, unfazed, walked over to the mirror and began removing his earrings (another gift) with practiced ease, "You don't need to understand it." Jaune didn't grow up spoiled and wanting for nothing like Weiss, but he was raised in a loving family in the idyllic countryside. He wouldn't understand.

The first time it happened was a couple of years back. Nora, being Nora, had spilled syrup on his closet while doing one of her experiments. Given that he couldn't exactly go about town in his underwear, he was forced to wear one of her outfits as he did his shopping.

That was when it started. The shopkeepers who didn't look at him twice suddenly acted far nicer and gave him discounts. A few of the older ladies had even given him free samples and extras. In the end, he didn't have to expend nearly as much of their meager budget. Nora's face had practically lit up when he came back to the inn with a veritable feast (by their standards, at least). If they were careful, they could go a couple of weeks without being forced to skip meal days.

So he tried again. The next town they went to, he borrowed a pair of Nora's earrings in addition to the outfit. He received even more compliments and, more importantly, more gifts. At first, he thought they would want something from him, something...base. Instead, they stuck to compliments about his looks. It was odd, but he didn't complain. The gifts were useful either in their daily lives or to sell for much-needed supplies. Aura came with many benefits, but because of their training regiment, it only seemed to worsen their appetites. They needed as much as they could get, and if him dressing up pretty could get them that, then he did it with no shame.

And now here they were, already at Beacon but still getting gifts. While he strictly didn't need the gifts anymore, he kept them for a rainy day. The life of a Huntsman was dangerous, after all, and while there was an association that claimed to look out for them, he'd heard more than enough stories of Huntsmen who were forced to fend for themselves after being crippled in the line of duty. He wasn't going to leave himself or Nora to the mercy of the wolves. Not again.

Jaune frowned, "That's not an answer."

Ren gave him a small, almost knowing smile, "It's the only one you're getting."

Jaune groaned, rubbing his temples, "Whatever. You're being weird, dude."

Ren simply nodded, "And yet, I have a growing collection of rare imported goods. Interesting, isn't it?"

Jaune opened his mouth to argue, paused, then groaned again, "I hate that you have a point."

Nora giggled, "Don't fight it, Jaune-Jaune. Ren's got the magic touch!" She wiggled her fingers dramatically, "He's got powers we mere mortals can't comprehend! But yeah, get some more syrup next time, Renny!"

Ren hummed in quiet amusement, unfastening his stockings. Another day passed, and tomorrow was yet to come.

Ren stepped out of the dorm, his usual serene expression in place, his uniform immaculate as ever. The morning air was crisp, the halls of Beacon quiet but gradually filling with students beginning their routines. Another day, another opportunity. He adjusted the ribbon in his hair - the blue fabric provided a nice contrast to his dark hair - and made his way down the hall, mentally cataloging what he still needed to acquire.

Then he saw Cardin.

The moment Ren spotted the hulking brute of Team CRDL standing near the hallway intersection, his steps slowed ever so slightly. Not out of fear, no. Cardin Winchester was many things - a racist, a bully, an egotistical manchild - but none of them included being a legitimate threat to him. No, Ren hesitated because something was...off.

Cardin wasn't striding around with his usual smug confidence, nor was he actively harassing someone like a stereotypical schoolyard bully who had yet to realize they were in an academy full of superpowered teenagers (though to be fair, neither did Velvet Scarlatina given her refusal to defend herself). Instead, he was...awkward.

Ren's brow lifted slightly as he observed the anomaly in front of him. Cardin was standing stiffly, shifting from one foot to another, his hands behind his back as if he was hiding something. His face was...was that a flush? Hm. Cardin's eyes flickered up, met Ren's gaze for all of two seconds, and immediately darted away.

Fascinating.

Ren crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly, "Can I help you?"

Cardin flinched. Ren had faced Grimm with more self-confidence than what was currently exuding from the largest idiot in Beacon. The larger boy grunted, opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it. And then, with a sharp inhale, took two aggressive steps forward and shoved a box of chocolates into Ren's hands.

Ren blinked, looking down at the box. It was a decent brand, mid-range quality but clearly bought fresh; probably from a market down in Vale. Not the worst thing he'd been given. He inspected it idly, noting the neat packaging and slight warmth from having been held for too long. His eyes flickered back up to Cardin, who was now standing there, tense, looking like he was reconsidering every decision that had led him to this moment.

Ren raised a brow, "...Thank you?"

Cardin made a strangled noise, turned on his heel, and ran. The sound of his heavy boots pounding against the tile echoed down the hallway as he vanished at full sprint like a man escaping a horde of rampaging Grimm. Ren watched him go, trying to process what just happened. He looked down at the chocolates again before he opened the box, plucked one out, and ate it.

Hmm. Tasty.

Poor Weiss. Realizes far too late that girls are last season. Femboys are where it's at.

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