This chapter is going to be a bit of filler as it's the Beacon Dance. Nothing too much should happen

Weeks had passed since the docks incident, yet whispers still followed Dennis through the halls of Beacon. Now, with the school dance approaching, he faced two problems.

One: he had no suit. Two: he had no date.

The second wasn't as pressing as Beacon was full of attractive women. The real issue? Dennis could barely hold a conversation with one without tripping over his own words. Years of isolation had left him socially stunted.

His plan for Saturday had not involved lying in bed, but when one of the most well-known teams in the school sees you slaughter people, rumors spread, and not the good kind. His scroll buzzed, breaking the silence. It was a message from Pyrrha.

"Wanna spar? I enjoyed our combat class. :)"

A smile flickered across his face as he quickly typed a response. Moments later, he was pulling on a pair of baggy black jeans, a tight black shirt, and a thin windbreaker before grabbing his duffel bag and heading out.

Combat Arena

By the time Dennis reached the arena and changed into his combat gear, Pyrrha was already there, standing in the center of the ring, fully armed and poised like a warrior born for battle. Her red hair gleamed under the arena lights, and her emerald eyes softened as she spotted him.

"Hi, how have you been?" she asked, her voice warm and inviting.

"I've been okay, thanks. How about you?" Dennis replied, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms.

"I've been fine. Thanks for asking." She smiled before shifting into a more serious stance. "What rules are we setting?"

"Ring-out and Aura?"

"Sounds good."

Dennis stepped into the ring, twirling his kunai between his fingers with practiced ease. Pyrrha's expression shifted slightly, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"What happened to your weapons?" she asked.

Dennis shrugged. "Ozpin didn't exactly approve of my funding methods, so I couldn't get my usual gear. But he gave me a black card for a store, so I've got some new stuff coming in tomorrow." He flicked a kunai into the air and caught it effortlessly. "These little guys are called Kage. They'll do for now."

Pyrrha nodded, adjusting her grip on her sword and shield.

Dennis exhaled slowly. Then—

"BEGIN!"

He launched forward immediately, hurling a kunai toward her. Pyrrha raised her shield, the blade bouncing harmlessly off. He was already moving, leaping midair and twisting his body to kick the kunai back toward her with a sharp snap of his foot. She deflected it again with ease and smoothly countered his follow-up kick with a well-timed parry.

Dennis flipped backward, landing lightly on his feet, exhaling sharply.

He hated fighting shield users.

Without his usual explosives or ranged tricks, this was going to be a pain.

Pyrrha advanced with fluid grace, her strikes fast and relentless. Dennis twisted, dodging with acrobatics, vaulting over her shield, flipping over her blade, dancing on the edge of her attacks. He moved like a shadow, each step calculated to keep him just out of reach. When an opening presented itself, he flung a kunai toward her back—

It froze in midair.

His instincts screamed, and he barely caught the kunai as it came hurtling back at him.

He gritted his teeth. Right. Her Semblance.

Fine.

He rushed in, closing the distance. Holstering one kunai, he snatched at her shield, wrenching it from her grasp before hurling it out of the ring.

Relief flooded him. Finally. No more damn shield.

"Oh really? That was your problem?" Pyrrha chuckled, completely unfazed.

Dennis scowled. Great. Now she's confident.

He pressed the attack, flipping, kicking, striking with his kunai in sharp, precise arcs. Pyrrha parried, dodged, and blocked where she could, but his speed made it difficult. Small hits chipped away at her Aura.

Then he saw his moment.

He lunged for a final slash—

Pyrrha caught his blade with her sword.

Dennis pushed forward, his muscles straining, but her strength was undeniable. Slowly, she forced him back.

She's stronger than me. Can't win in a direct clash.

Thinking fast, he kicked at her legs, knocking her off balance, and tackled her to the ground. He pinned her instantly, raining down rapid punches and elbows. Pyrrha tried to block, but some hits slipped through.

She twisted, using his momentum against him, and suddenly, their positions were reversed. Now she was straddling him, striking downward. He took a few hits before catching her arm, and with a swift movement, his legs locked around her neck—

A triangle choke.

He squeezed. "Do you yield?"

Pyrrha struggled for a moment before tapping his leg.

Dennis immediately released her and stood, offering his hand. She took it, still catching her breath.

"You fought well," he said.

"You still beat me," Pyrrha huffed, brushing off the dust.

Dennis chuckled. "I'm not exactly the standard you should compare yourself to."

"Why not?" she asked, tilting her head.

Dennis' expression darkened for just a second. "It's a story I don't feel like telling."

Pyrrha hesitated. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Dennis muttered. "You didn't know."

An awkward silence settled between them.

Dennis stretched, cracking his neck. "Well, I gotta go."

"Goodbye," Pyrrha said softly.

As he walked off, Pyrrha's team arrived.

Jaune was the first to speak. "What was going on here?"

"I was just sparring," Pyrrha replied, a faint blush dusting her cheeks.

"Oh, I see. Who was that?"

"He's that new kid that beat me the first and—"

"Holy shit, that's the guy who killed a bunch of people at the docks with Team RWBY," Jaune interrupted.

Pyrrha's eyes widened.

"Haven't you heard the rumors?" Jaune continued.

Ren sighed. "Isn't that a bit shallow?"

"Yeah, we haven't really met him, and it's kinda mean talking about him behind his back," Nora added.

Jaune crossed his arms. "I just want Pyrrha to stay safe, I guess."

"It's fine, fearless leader," Nora teased, smirking.

Pyrrha, however, remained quiet, her gaze lingering on the exit Dennis had taken.

And for the first time, she wondered—

How much of those rumors were actually true?

Downtown Vale

After a much-needed shower, Dennis headed to Vale to solve his suit issue. With Ozpin finally giving him an allowance, a new wardrobe was in order.

Parking at the mall, he wandered through the bustling crowds until he found a high-end suit store. A cute, petite attendant with a brown bob and striking green eyes greeted him.

"Hi! How can I help you today?" she asked, smiling.

Dennis felt heat rise to his face. "Uh… I need a suit."

"Of course! Follow me."

She led him inside, gesturing toward a variety of suits. "May I take your measurements?"

Dennis nodded, raising his arms. As she worked, her hands lingered on him a little too long.

"For your frame—6'4 and broad—I'd recommend a double-breasted suit. It'll enhance your build. With your skin tone, I'd suggest blue, black, or grey. Would you like me to find one for you?"

Dennis nodded, mesmerized.

"Wait here," she instructed. Moments later, she returned with a grey double-breasted suit, a crisp white shirt, and a black tie.

He changed quickly, frowning at his reflection—his body, a map of scars. As he struggled with the cufflinks, he called out, "Could I get some help?"

"Sure! Are you decent?"

"Yes."

She entered, buttoning his shirt with practiced ease. Her gaze flickered to his scars but she said nothing. When she finished, she unexpectedly leaned up and kissed his cheek before slipping away. Dennis stood frozen, face burning.

Outside, she grinned. "Are you happy with the suit?"

"Yeah."

"Great! Change back, and I'll meet you at the register."

Still flustered, Dennis paid and left the store, muttering to himself, "That was… an experience."

Deciding to complete the makeover, he got his unruly afro braided into cornrows, then bought some casual clothes—sweatpants, jeans, tank tops, a hoodie, and sneakers—before heading back to Beacon, the city lights glowing behind him.

Beacon Dance

The weeks of class had blurred by, and now the dance was finally here. Yet, despite all his efforts, Dennis still hadn't managed to find himself a date. It turns out that rumors about you slaughtering people tend to make you less appealing as a romantic prospect.

With a sigh, Dennis adjusted the collar of his suit, checking himself in the mirror. He looked sharp enough, but it didn't make much difference if no one cared. Grabbing his scroll for any last-minute messages, he found his inbox just as empty as his expectations.

The walk to the dance was uneventful until he spotted Weiss standing alone in the hallway, her shoulders trembling as she wiped at her eyes. Crying.

He tried to keep walking. He really did. But curiosity and whatever scraps of decency he had left got the better of him, and he doubled back.

"Yo, what's got you feeling down?" he asked.

Weiss quickly turned away, sniffing. "Don't worry about me."

"Well, I can't exactly leave you here like this. Did you get rejected or something?"

She nodded, avoiding his gaze.

Dennis sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that. But you don't need a date to have fun. Come on, let's get moving." He extended his arm toward her. After a moment's hesitation, she took it, and he passed her a handkerchief.

Together, they stepped into the hall, where music pounded, lights flashed, and couples twirled across the dance floor. Dennis winced at the overwhelming brightness.

"Doesn't this seem fun?" he joked.

Weiss shot him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

"Okay, tough crowd," he muttered, guiding her toward her team. "There they are."

As they approached, he let go of Weiss and nodded to her teammates. "Found her crying in the hallway. You guys are probably better at this kind of thing than me, so I'll leave before I make things worse."

"Thanks," Yang said, giving him a grateful smile.

Dennis waved them off and wandered toward the refreshment table, grabbing a cup of punch. He sniffed it. Yep. Definitely spiked. With a tired sigh, he leaned against the wall and took a sip.

"Hi."

Dennis looked up to see a blonde-haired girl standing before him, smiling. She was pretty.

"My name's Thorn," she said. "Wanna dance?"

"Sure." He downed the rest of his drink. "I'm Dennis."

Thorn grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. She was surprisingly good, moving fluidly to the beat, and Dennis followed her lead with ease. For the first time that night, he actually started enjoying himself.

Then she leaned in. "Are the rumors about you true?"

Dennis let out a breath. "Yeah. I killed a bunch of White Fang members to save Team RWBY."

"That's it?" she asked, sounding almost surprised.

"Yeah. Blake and Sun were about to be killed by Torchdick, so I stepped in. Then I got jumped by White Fang. When I fight multinational terrorists, I tend to make sure they stay down."

Thorn's eyes flickered with something unreadable as she moved closer.

"Well, that's not nearly as bad as what I heard," she murmured. "What do you say we get out of here?"

Dennis met her gaze. "Lead the way."

She led him outside, away from the flashing lights and pounding music, into the quiet outskirts of the courtyard. A patch of grass bathed in moonlight, a cool breeze rustling the leaves. She sat down, pulling a bottle from her bag and placing it between them.

"Atlesian vodka," she said. "Wanna try some?"

Dennis nodded. She unscrewed the cap and poured him a shot, watching as he downed it without hesitation. He handed the cap back, and she took a long swig straight from the bottle.

"Come closer," she said, offering the bottle again. He took it, taking a slow sip.

Then, before he could react, she climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Dennis froze.

"I heard about your case from Ozpin," she whispered. "I want you to know, you're not alone."

His breath hitched. "What do you mean?"

"I know what it's like. Feeling like you want to help, but only knowing how to kill." Her fingers traced lightly over his chest. "What you did before coming here doesn't define you. I'm not saying those you killed will disappear, but you don't have to carry them alone."

Dennis exhaled slowly. "I get that, but… what's all this for?"

She smirked. "Oh, I just wanna ride you till I'm sore."

Then she kissed him, deeply.

The Next Morning – Dennis' Dorm

Dennis woke up to a dull, throbbing headache. The warmth of someone's arm draped over his chest.

He blinked. Slowly, he turned his head and saw strands of blonde hair peeking from under the sheets. Thorn.

"Shit."

He sat up, rubbing his temples, and reached for his scroll.

10:00 AM.

Then—knock, knock, knock.

Dennis groaned, pulling on a pair of shorts before trudging to the door. When he opened it, he found himself face-to-face with Team RWBY.

A heavy silence settled between them. Then—

"Y-You harlot!" Weiss shrieked, her face burning red.

Dennis sighed. "What do you want?"

"We just wanted to thank you for looking after Weiss last night," Ruby said.

"It was nothing," Dennis replied, voice flat. "Now, can I get some privacy?"

From behind him, Thorn stirred, propping herself up on one elbow to stare at the scene.

"Morning," she murmured, smirking.

Weiss looked seconds away from fainting.

Dennis sighed again. This was going to be a long day.

A much longer chapter of filler. The intimate scenes with Dennis are meant to show his weaknesses when it comes to social interactions and his inability to communicate properly as shown in the first chapter.

I didn't want Dennis to be too strong in comparison to other students. If your worried about Grimm they will come and I will give Dennis a specific weapon to fight Grimm