The sound of clanging weights echoed through Beacon Academy's gym as Pyrrha stretched on a mat with practiced movements. Huntsmen required constant physical and aura-based training to maintain their peak condition, and Pyrrha knew the importance of pushing limits. Aura, like muscle, grew stronger with use, becoming thicker and more refined over time. Conversely, neglecting to push it to its capacity could leave one vulnerable — a weakness no Huntsman or Huntress could afford when facing Grimm, who tends to have the numbers on their side.
Across the room, Jaune stood with a set of weights balanced across his broad shoulders. His sleeveless top revealed thick biceps and defined abs under the thin fabric. Pyrrha couldn't help but glance his way as she prepared her own barbell.
"Alright, Pyrrha," Jaune said, his voice steady but encouraging as he approached her. "I'll spot you."
Pyrrha nodded, placing the barbell across her shoulders. She focused on her form as she began her squats, concentrating her aura, lowering herself slowly before rising again. Jaune stood close behind, his eyes fixed on her movements, ready to assist if needed.
"Perfect," Jaune said. "Keep your back straight. You've got this, partner."
His tone was professional, but Pyrrha couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through her. She was used to being admired and praised — her reputation as the Invincible Girl. But something about Jaune's praise felt different. Genuine. Or that he might be staring at her butt, which she somewhat doubts Jaune would do.
She finished her set and returned the barbell to its rack, stepping aside to let Jaune take his turn. He gripped the weights with ease, his muscles flexing as he positioned the barbell across his shoulders.
"Your turn," Pyrrha said, standing behind him. She felt her cheeks heat as her eyes wandered over his toned form. Focus, Pyrrha, she scolded herself, but her traitorous gaze lingered.
Jaune began his reps, his movements controlled and deliberate. Pyrrha stepped closer, her hands hovering near his sides to ensure he maintained his balance. She found herself brushing against his arms, her fingertips grazing the firm muscles of his biceps.
"You're doing great," she said, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest.
"Thanks," Jaune replied, flashing her a smile as he continued his squats.
Pyrrha bit her lower lip, her hand briefly resting on his shoulder as he completed his final rep. She felt a pang of guilt for letting her thoughts wander… this was training… but she really couldn't help it.
Nearby, Nora was far less subtle in her enthusiasm. She barked orders at Ren like a drill sergeant, her voice echoing across the gym.
"Come on, Ren! Lift it like you mean it! You're not gonna let a Beowolf outlift you, are you?"
Ren, ever patient, grunted as he completed his set, his expression stoic despite Nora's antics.
"You're not even sweating! More reps!" Nora shouted, her hands on her hips.
Ren set the barbell down and gave her a pointed look. "I am sweating, Nora."
"Not enough!" Nora declared, grabbing a nearby dumbbell and holding it out to him. "Here! Try this one!"
Jaune chuckled at the exchange as he wiped sweat from his brow. "You know, I'm actually surprised Ren's not shredded and bulky with how Nora trains. That was a lot of protein they took before coming here."
Pyrrha laughed softly, her gaze still lingering on Jaune as he reached for a towel. She turned away quickly, focusing on her own weights.
The intensity of their workout increased as the group pushed their limits. The amount of weight they lifted would have been impossible without their aura enhancing their strength, but even with proper preparation, the strain was palpable.
Pyrrha finished another set and sat on the bench, catching her breath. She watched as Jaune moved to the pull-up bar, his arms rippling as he lifted himself effortlessly. This time, not relying on Aura, but pure strength.
"Not bad," Nora said, walking over and slapping Jaune on the back. "But can you do this?"
Before anyone could respond, Nora leapt onto the pull-up bar and began doing rapid-fire pull-ups, her legs swinging with each motion.
Jaune laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, I concede. You've got me beat."
"Darn right, I do!" Nora grinned, dropping to the ground with a triumphant pose and flexing her biceps.
"Jaune, wanna go for a round?" Ren threw him gloves.
"Sure," Jaune said, wearing the gloves and taking his place opposite Ren on the mat.
Pyrrha leaned against the edge of a bench, watching closely as the two squared off.
Jaune rolled his shoulders, his arms bare, the toned muscles of his frame glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. His stance was steady, feet firmly planted, but there was a fluidity to the way he held himself, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.
Ren mirrored him, calm and composed, his aura faintly shimmering as he took a defensive stance. His forearms were raised, his palms open, ready to deflect or strike as needed.
"You ready, Ren?" Jaune asked, a playful smirk on his face.
Ren nodded, his tone even. "Let's go."
Nora clapped her hands enthusiastically from the sidelines. "Alright, boys! Let's see some action! No holding back!"
At Nora's signal, the match began.
Jaune launched forward first, his footwork sharp and precise. Pyrrha's eyes narrowed as she studied his technique. There was something familiar about it — the rapid jabs, the calculated strikes aimed to probe Ren's defenses. It wasn't flashy, but it was efficient. She'd seen Atlas soldiers fight with a similar style, a focus on quick attacks and tight defenses designed for endurance, making her wonder if Jaune's mentor was an Atlesian.
Ren met Jaune's assault with grace, his palms intercepting Jaune's punches. He redirected the strikes with practiced fluidity, his movements smooth and deliberate. Ren's martial arts style was entirely his own — a blend of precision and fluidity, like a stream flowing around a boulder.
The two clashed, their blows creating sharp cracks in the air as aura absorbed the impacts. Jaune's fists were relentless, each strike carrying his weight, but Ren deflected them with skill.
Still, Pyrrha could see the difference in their physicality. Jaune's larger frame gave him an edge in sheer power, allowing him to tank blows that would stagger most. Ren, on the other hand, relied on his speed and technique to keep up, avoiding Jaune's strikes by the narrowest margins.
Ren slipped under a wide hook and countered with a palm strike aimed at Jaune's jaw. The blow connected with a satisfying crack, but Jaune barely flinched. Instead, he countered with a swift jab to Ren's midsection, hitting him just below the ribs.
Ren grinned through the pain, his aura shimmering to absorb the impact. "Not hard enough?"
"Got a good defense," Jaune replied, his tone light but his focus still razor-sharp.
Ren retaliated with a spinning kick, aiming for Jaune's side. Jaune blocked it with his forearm, absorbing the force before stepping into Ren's guard. He delivered a quick, precise punch to Ren's liver, forcing him to stumble back and catch his breath.
Nora winced from the sidelines. "Ooh, that's gotta hurt! Come on, Ren!"
Ren didn't falter. He adjusted his stance, his breathing measured, and stepped back into the fray. His palm struck Jaune's chest with enough force to send him back a step, but Jaune recovered quickly, his guard still intact.
The match intensified as the two pushed each other harder. Jaune's punches became faster, his jabs snapping forward like the strikes of a viper. Ren responded with calculated palm strikes, precisely targeting gaps in Jaune's defense.
But Jaune's endurance began to shine through. He absorbed Ren's blows with a grim determination, his aura dampening the force but not erasing the toll. His strikes carried weight, and each one forced Ren to work harder to deflect them.
Pyrrha watched with a mix of admiration and concern. She could see the discipline in Jaune's movements, the way he controlled his strength and maintained his composure even under pressure. But there was also a rawness to his style, a willingness to take hits that spoke of experience in enduring pain.
Finally, Ren's movements began to slow. His breathing became heavier, his strikes losing some of their precision. Jaune, sensing the shift, pressed forward with renewed energy. Like a bull seeing red.
With a feint to the left, Jaune forced Ren to overcommit to a block. He followed with a sweeping hook to Ren's midsection, forcing the smaller fighter back. Ren tried to counter with a quick palm strike, but Jaune caught his wrist, twisting just enough to throw Ren off balance.
Ren stumbled but managed to recover, raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, I yield," he said, a small smile on his face.
Jaune stepped back, lowering his guard and offering a hand to Ren. "Good fight."
Ren took the offered hand, pulling himself up. "Trying to hit you with an aura is unfair."
Jaune grinned.
"Me next?" Pyrrha adjusted her gloves as she stepped onto the mat, rolling her shoulders to loosen up. She had watched Jaune and Ren's match closely, her emerald eyes taking in every detail of Jaune's movements. She couldn't deny the thrill of anticipation coursing through her veins as she squared off against him. Her competitive spirit burning.
Jaune stood across from her, his stance solid and confident. His golden hair was slightly damp from sweat, clinging to his forehead. Taking a southpaw stance, his posture showed calm control, but Pyrrha could see the glint of determination in his eyes.
She mirrored his stance, though her movements were looser, more fluid, like a coiled spring ready to strike. She took a steadying breath, her heart pounding — not from nerves, but from the excitement of testing herself against someone she admired more than she cared to admit.
"Ready?" Jaune asked, his tone warm but laced with focus.
Pyrrha nodded, her smile soft but confident. "Always."
The match began with Jaune taking the initiative, charging forward with a quick burst of speed. Pyrrha anticipated his move, ducking low and spinning to his side. She caught his wrist in a practiced motion, pivoting her hips to throw him over her shoulder.
But Jaune was ready. He planted his legs firmly, leaning forward to disrupt her balance, then hit her lightly with his shoulder to break her grip. Pyrrha recovered quickly, but Jaune followed up with a feint from his right hand, baiting her block before delivering a quick jab with his left.
Pyrrha deflected the jab, but Jaune didn't give her time to rest. He lunged forward with a knee aimed at her chest. Pyrrha tilted her head just enough to avoid the strike, her body instinctively moving to counter.
Like a snake, she flowed into his space, wrapping her arms around his torso and locking her legs around him. Her grip was firm, but there was something electrifying about the contact—feeling the strength in his muscles beneath her hands. Pyrrha bit her lower lip, a slight blush dusting her cheeks as her hands brushed against his.
The moment didn't last.
Jaune reacted with swift efficiency, lifting her up and slamming her back onto the mat. The impact forced her to loosen her grip, and Jaune took advantage, catching hold of her arm. With precision, he extended her legs across his chest to gain leverage, using his hips to hyperextend her elbow joint.
For a split second, Pyrrha felt overwhelmed — not just by the position, but by the heat radiating from Jaune and the sheer closeness of him. Her breath hitched, and her thoughts turned dangerously improper. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking in the subtle scent of him, a mix of sweat and something distinctly Jaune.
Focus, Pyrrha.
Discipline reasserted itself, and Pyrrha quickly escaped the hold, rolling away from him before he could secure her further. She got back to her feet, shaking off the lingering heat in her cheeks. Grappling clearly wasn't going to work against Jaune.
Rolling her shoulders, Pyrrha switched to striking. She darted forward with a series of punches, targeting his liver and stomach, trying to break through his guard. Her movements were fast and deliberate, each strike aiming to exploit any openings in his defense.
Jaune remained calm under the assault, his forearms and hands deflecting and blocking her punches like a sturdy shield, clearly localizing his aura on his forearms to defend. He moved with a steadiness that made him difficult to crack, and Pyrrha could feel the frustration mounting.
She overextended with a cross aimed at his ribs, and Jaune seized the moment. He ducked low and tackled her, wrapping his arms around her waist and forcing her down to the mat. The momentum of his tackle left her pinned beneath him, his weight pressing down just enough to keep her from escaping immediately.
Pyrrha's face flushed deep red as she found herself staring up at him, their faces only inches apart. Her breathing was shallow, and her thoughts raced uncontrollably.
Jaune raised a brow, his lips curling into a helpless laugh. "Are you okay?"
Pyrrha stammered, her voice uncharacteristically small. "Y-Yes, just… caught off guard."
Realizing the awkwardness of their position, Jaune quickly got off her and extended a hand to pull her up. Pyrrha accepted, though her grip lingered for just a moment longer than necessary.
As she got to her feet, she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to compose herself. "You have a good teacher," she said with a soft smile, her tone light but genuine.
Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, his expression modest. "I've had a lot of help. That was tough."
Pyrrha's smile widened, though her heart was still racing. "Thank you. I'll get you next time."
Jaune chuckled, his blue eyes meeting hers for a moment before they both turned back to rejoin the others.
Pyrrha glanced at him again, watching as he laughed with Nora and Ren.
Then suddenly, after looking down, she found a wet spot, bit her lip and excused herself before anyone could ask if she spilled water on her sweat pants.