A Semblance of Emotion 035

While they’d been away, things didn’t stop in Vale and it didn’t take them long to hear the news. It was the biggest story in the kingdom, front page of newspapers and the leading story on all news shows. Weiss’ prediction had been spot on, and the massive Dust shipment that had arrived from the Schnee Dust Company had been targeted by the White Fang.

But not just the White Fang. Roman Torchwick had been sighted, and his picture was splashed across newspapers, magazines and the internet for all to see. Caught in 4k was a popular term being thrown around online. It was no longer speculation that he was involved with the White Fang; they had proof.

The heist had ended in failure, stopped by a group of Huntsmen that had been ‘conveniently’ in the area but were likely sent there by Ozpin due to their warning, but not without serious damage to the docks. An entire wharf had been destroyed when some of the Dust had detonated, and hundreds of millions of liens worth of cargo had gone up in flames. Several dozen White Fang had been arrested but Torchwick, as usual, managed to slip away in the chaos.

Free to continue his crime spree.

What was worrying was the hardware that was seized. The White Fang had been using modified Bullhead airships, capable of remaining undetected by radar, and not just a couple. Five in total, one of which helped ferry Torchwich away from the scene of the crime, and that they still hadn’t found.

After hearing the news, Blake was understandably despondent for the next few days. It was another blow to her view of her former comrades, that they would stoop to any low, even working with a man that thought faunus were no more than animals. Jaune tried his best to cheer her up but she was committed to feeling miserable, and so he only had limited success.

When serious conversation failed to make a dent, he decided to channel every ounce of annoying little brother he had in him which was a lot.

“Jaune,” she sighed, half-exasperated, half-amused as he placed a chocolate bar down in front of her with slow, deliberate movements. As if she would bolt like a skittish cat if he moved any faster. “What are you doing?”

“Sweetening you up,” he joked, and he was pleased to see a quick smile before she frowned.

“You aren’t funny.”

“You smiled.”

“No I didn’t,” she said grumpily.

“Uh huh.”

She scowled. “I didn’t!”

“Okay, I believe you,” he said in the most skeptical tone he could manage before reaching for the chocolate bar. “Since you don’t want this, I’ll give it to Weiss.”

Blake’s hand slapped down on the desk, trapping the chocolate bar beneath her palm before he could touch it.

“This is mine,” she said mulishly. “You gave it to me.”

“It is yours,” he agreed easily. “Do you want anything to drink? I could get you something while you sulk.”

“I’m not sulking!”

“You sound just like my sisters when they’re sulking,” he mused, leaning back as she took a swing at him.

“You’re annoying,” she said, eyes narrowed. “I don’t like it. This isn’t like you.”

Jaune smirked.

“You just haven’t known me long enough.”

When she tried to ignore him, he started humming various different tunes and flicking folded pieces of paper at her until she couldn’t take it any more. The librarian had to kick them out for disturbing the peace when Blake started chasing him down the aisles and around bookshelves, their laughter only growing more fierce when they got in trouble.

Unfortunately, scenes like that were few and far between.

In stark contrast to Blake, Weiss was elated that they’d managed to stop another Dust heist from being successful, though the damage and loss of product was regrettable.

“I would rather the Dust burn than fall into their hands,” she’d said when Nora questioned why she was so happy. “Much of the monetary value will be covered by insurance, and whatever plans the White Fang and Roman Torchwick have will have been set back by this… set back.”

“Very clever,” Jaune grinned.

Weiss sniffed. “Well, yes – I understand Blake’s distress. It is regrettable but our actions helped prevent an even greater disaster from occurring. We must keep the bigger picture in mind.”

Blake didn’t have long to stew in her feelings, though. Exam season was quickly ramping up, and while they’d completed their Survival and Navigation test with flying marks, Jaune and Nora scoring extra credit and earning a Silver Star, their other classes were growing more intense.

“How many stupid Grimm are there?” Ruby groaned, her head thumping against the table three hours into their study session. “And these are the ones only found on Sanus? This is ridiculous!”

The library on this day was packed with students, all of them cramming. First, second and third years – the fourth years were missing, out on missions, their final tests taking place in the field. From what Jaune had heard, the fourth year students typically received missions from various corporations that would usually go to licensed Huntsmen, and were the real deal.

The librarian was keeping a stern eye on him, and Jaune made sure to be on his best behavior. At least he hadn’t been banned. Yet.

“As many as there are stars in the sky,” Ren said somewhat poetically, rubbing his wrist. His page was filled with notes.

“Jaune, look,” Nora tilted the screen of the library tablet in his direction, and a familiar Grimm met his eyes. It was the one they’d vanquished, in all its terrible, horrible glory. “It’s called a Centaurus.”

Pyrrha leaned in to get a better look, as did Yang. The latter whistled.

“That thing looks like bad news,” she shook her head. “I mean, you did a pretty good job describing it but talk about nightmare fuel.”

Pyrrha nodded, and pointed at the classification below. It was listed as ‘Flee on Sight’ for all but the most seasoned Huntsmen, and even then, the notes suggested not to engage unless it was outnumbered ten to one.

They hadn’t had much of a choice.

“I’m glad you prevailed against such a monster,” she said seriously, her eyes meeting his. “You should be proud of your accomplishment. Truly. I would not wish to face such a foe.”

Nora beamed. “Thanks, Pyrrha~! That means a lot, coming from you.”

It did. Jaune smiled.

Crocea Mors was still in pieces but Professor Mulberry was allowing the reforging of his sword to be his project for the end of semester, counting for his final mark. He was allowed help, and so Ruby and Pyrrha joined over the weekend, though he had to do most of the work.

Ruby suggested remaking the sword in its entirety, hilt and all, and so she picked out shark skin for the grip, replacing the old worn leather, and sketched a design that Jaune instantly fell in love with. It wasn’t that different from the original; the crossguard was a little more elaborate, hooking forward on both sides with a higher point in the middle, looking a little like a crown. She also made the hilt itself a little longer to better fit his hands. While the original was enough for him to wield two handed, it was a little cramped while doing so. This way, he could spread his hands out more and generate even greater power using leverage. The blade itself was simple, there wasn’t much you could do with a sword’s edge other than curve it, something he didn’t want, but smithing technology had come a long way since Crocea Mors had been originally forged. They could make it much stronger, and even sharper.

“Infusing Dust into the steel makes Dust steel, right?” Ruby said as they prepared themselves to melt down the damaged blade and build it anew. They’d been provided with everything they would need, Dust and steel, and the tools needed to finish their work. “Fire and Earth, mostly – and Water and Ice when quenching it. The more types you use, the stronger the steel. You have to be careful they don’t react badly, though. You don’t want Gravity Dust blowing up and sending molten steel everywhere.”

It would also conduct aura much more efficiently, making his aura slashes sharper and more powerful than before.

The process of making the blade would take a day but to finish everything, it would take a couple. Jaune spent the next few hours painstakingly melting down, adding to, and then shaping the new steel when it came out of the mold, Pyrrha and Ruby adding Fire and Earth, Lightning, and even Wind Dust during the process, sparks flying with each hammer swing. The powdered Dust was mixed with an agent that lowered its reactivity but there was always a chance of flare ups.

Water and Ice were added when he quenched it, steam billowing as he dunked the blade in oil. Cooling the metal too quickly would normally be a bad idea but the heat of the imbued Fire Dust kept the Ice Dust from dropping the temperature too sharply.

Jaune wiped the sweat from his brow, drenched from the extreme heat of the forge. He might have normally removed his shirt or worn a singlet but he was mindful of the new tattoo on his back. If they saw it, there would be a lot of questions he wasn’t sure he was ready to answer yet. His arm cramped, shoulder and wrist sore from the hammering process but it was done. Now it just needed to be sharpened.

Ruby was really enjoying herself, smiling the whole time. It was difficult not to get caught up in her cheer.

“What?” she asked when she caught him staring, toweling the sweat around her neck.

“Nothing. You just look really happy.”

“Of course I’m happy,” she beamed, all teeth. “We’re making a new weapon! Just imagine all the things this sword is going to do!”

Her expression then cooled, a hint of apology. “I know it meant a lot to you. It was your grandfather’s sword, right?”

Jaune nodded, “Great grandfather’s.”

“I want to make sure it can live up to the old Crocea Mors, so it’ll never let you down when you need it.”

Jaune was touched by her sincerity.

“Why do you like weapons so much?” he asked curiously.

Pyrrha paused what she was doing, listening in.

“I dunno. I mean, I’m not the best with people, I get all awkward and stuff, but a weapon can tell me a lot about a person,” she shrugged shyly.

“How does that work?” he asked.

“Well… take Yang, for example. She’s brash and in your face, likes to get into the thick of it. In a fight, and in a conversation. Ember Celica is like a perfect match for her personality. It lets her rough it out, up close and personal. Weiss is all about appearances in everything she does, and values precision. Myrtenaster is pretty but dangerous, and requires precision to use. Her fighting style is controlled, measured, holding something back – until it doesn’t, and she goes for the kill. Remind you of anyone?”

Pyrrha giggled.

“So what does my weapon say about me?” Jaune asked.

“It’s simple but effective,” she said, not even having to think about it.

“Boring?”

She shook her head. “Reliable. I think that fits you perfectly.”

Her cheeks were already flushed from the heat, but Jaune thought they darkened a little afterwards. Jaune felt flattered, while Pyrrha… she was contemplative, and didn’t speak until they parted for the day.

They joined him the next day to create the crossguard and hilt, and sharpen and polish the blade until it gleamed. Using chemicals, they bronzed the crossguard and the end of the pommel before securing the dyed shark skin around the handle, and bringing everything together.

By the time they were finished, the new and improved Crocea Mors hummed as he gave it some test swings.

The shark skin had much better grip, though it felt strange without the worn grooves gained from years of use, so it sat a little awkwardly in his hand. It would take a little time for him to grow completely comfortable with it. It also felt a little lighter now, twirling effortlessly in his hand. It sung as he slid it inside its sheath, a perfect fit. Thankfully they’d gotten that right, mostly due to Ruby’s painstaking calculations and measurements.

It wasn’t completely finished. There were many etchings that required painstaking work. Some used acid or even laser work, but Beacon had their own way of doing things using Dust. The patterns that Ruby had drawn up for the crossguard and pommel would give it great character, but as of now, the sword was battle ready.

“Excellent work,” Professor Mulberry praised as he inspected the sword, holding it up to his eye before giving it a few swings. He even tested it with a piece of paper, and it sliced through it like a razor. “Perfectly balanced. Razor sharp. Wonderful. You’ll receive full marks for this, young man.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Ms. Rose, Ms. Nikos – extra credit for helping Mr. Arc with his project.”

He couldn’t have done it without Ruby or Pyrrha’s help, so the extra credit was well deserved.

“Thank you both, for everything,” he told them afterwards. “I wouldn’t have been able to do that alone.”

Pyrrha nodded. “You’re welcome.”

Ruby beamed. “Anytime. If you want to add a gun, just let me know!”

Jaune laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen – but really, Ruby. Thank you.”

She was more excited about the sword than he was, if that was possible, so he let her carry it as she skipped ahead happily. Jaune watched her fondly before noticing Pyrrha’s troubled expression, her hands fiddling together awkwardly.

“Jaune…”

“Yeah?”

She was struggling with something, and he saw the moment her eyes firmed with resolve.

“Can I speak to you?” she asked. “Alone.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Ruby continued on ahead, and they found a quiet place to sit down. It was a little overcast, though not really cold, even though the sun was covered by cloud. Jaune sat down on a bench and Pyrrha hesitated before joining him.

It was a rare sight, the pair of them together, alone. The only time they ever spent time around one another without their teams was at the gym, and they spoke little.

Jaune felt a little nervous, wondering what it was that Pyrrha wanted to talk about. Their friendship was stilted, though it existed. He had seen the worry on her face, clear as day when they’d arrived on the scene of his and Nora’s battle with the Centaurus. She had helped with Blake at once, no questions asked, and again, she had offered her helping hand with his sword. Ruby had done much of the planning work, but her extra pair of hands had been invaluable when forging the steel with Dust.

He just wished that they could talk to one another without… whatever it was that lingered between them. It wasn’t one sided, either. Jaune knew that his attitude after his defeat at the beginning of term wasn’t exactly the welcoming type.

She had trounced him and his ego had struggled to accept it.

He didn’t lash out but Jaune knew that he had probably done a poor job of hiding his feelings on the subject. It was the first time in his life that he had encountered such a feeling of shame, and he had liked it little. His own belief in his own skill had taken a hit that day, and while it had recovered entirely, it was still a bitter memory.

“I want to apologize,” Pyrrha said, staring ahead. Not at him. “I feel… no, I know I’ve been a poor friend.”

Jaune frowned. “That isn’t true.”

“It is,” she instantly corrected him. “You’ve noticed, I’m sure. The truth is, Jaune… I have always struggled to make friends. You might not know this, but I’m actually a very shy person.”

Pyrrha did strike him as a little introverted, sure – but not shy. The way she carried herself in front of a crowd, and the fact that she was a successful professional fighter would lead you to believe otherwise. But Jaune didn’t detect any falseness in her voice, or some misguided attempt at being humble.

“I’ve surprised you a little,” she grinned, finally turning to look at him. “You’re wondering how someone in my position could be shy, am I right?”

Let it never be said that Pyrrha Nikos wasn’t sharp.

“I was,” he confessed. “And you’ve made many friends here at Beacon.”

She nodded. “I suppose I have – though through no effort on my part, truly. Yang didn’t give me a choice, and Ruby – well, it’s difficult not to adore her, is it not?”

Jaune chuckled lightly. “Yeah, you’re not wrong about that.”

“Ren… he is a calming presence, one I find myself in need of. When he looks at me, I am just a girl. He isn’t interested in the Invincible Girl, or the fact that I was on a cereal box, or that I have about a dozen other endorsements. I’m just a person like anyone else, and that is exactly what I was hoping for when I came to Beacon.”

She sighed. “Weiss… was a little difficult. She saw me as all of that, and yet… she understands. In a way that no one else does. It was strange for me to acknowledge this, as I was ready to view her as just another fan, unable to see me… but no, I think we share a lot in common, and that quickly became apparent.”

Jaune smiled. “Weiss does have a way of surprising people, I’ve noticed.”

Pyrrha matched his smile. “She does. And Blake… well, she was much like Ren. She didn’t care, though now that I know more, it was probably because she had more serious things to deal with in her life beyond the celebrity she suddenly found herself classmates with. Nora – Nora is a lot like Ruby. It’s really hard not to get caught up in her vibe.”

“You can say that again,” he said, noticing that she’d left him out. “Something about me rubbed you the wrong way, didn’t it?”

The truth was on her face, even before she nodded. “I judged you before I even knew you, which makes me a hypocrite. I became that which I despise, through no act of your own – it was entirely in my head.”

Pyrrha looked truly appalled by her actions.

“What was it?” he asked. “That I did… or about me that made you judge me in that way?”

She hesitated. “Like I said, I find it difficult to make friends… and while part of that is my shyness, most of it stems from my position. When people approach me, I can never be sure what their intentions are. Perhaps it is a cynical view of people but… this is a position I’ve arrived at because of experience, not just on the say-so of others.”

It was the price of fame. Jaune would never experience it, he was just a nobody from the country trying to live out his dream of becoming a Huntsman. People like Weiss and Pyrrha, though – they were known the world over, their faces recognizable because of their family or through their own deeds. It wasn’t so difficult to imagine that some people out there might try to take advantage of their fame or fortune, attempting to elevate themselves in some manner.

It was a sad thought, and something that Jaune was glad he didn’t have to deal with.

“When you would compliment me, I would search for an ulterior motive,” her voice was filled with regret. “But then I would see you with the others, and I would feel horrible, only to do it all over again the next time it happened. When we fought… I was scared.”

“What?” Jaune exclaimed, taken completely off guard. “Scared? Why?”

“Not of losing,” she said, and it was said with such confidence that it stung a little bit, that competitive fire igniting within – but he knew now that it wasn’t meant as an insult, just a sure confidence in her own remarkable abilities. “But of breaking your spirit. I could see how much you wanted to win, Jaune. I faced your resolve – and crushed it.”

She didn’t relish it, either, if the expression on her face was anything to go by.

“It has happened before. A talented fighter losing confidence in their abilities and losing all hope,” she sounded sad. “Some of the people I’ve beaten in the past… they never again tried their hardest against me, fearing the same result. Why try if the outcome has already been determined? Isn’t it just a waste of time and effort? Others… quit entirely, as if their whole identity was wrapped up in their ability to win any and all fights. I’ve… lost friends this way,” she closed her eyes. “More than I care to admit.”

That sounded horrible.

“I feared the same with you,” she admitted. “You fought hard, and gave it everything – and I saw your face afterwards, the disbelief, the self loathing… I wanted to say something, anything, but I was a coward and remained silent on what truly mattered.”

Then she shook her head, face firming. “But you didn’t falter. The next class we had, you were back to normal and I felt relieved.”

“I won’t pretend that I wasn’t down about it,” he said. “I’m still down about it. The fact that I couldn’t even hit you… it drove me mad. I never thought I cared that much about a simple fight but… I tried my hardest, and was defeated so easily. It bruised my ego, Pyrrha – and I won’t lie, perhaps some of my feelings soured things. I didn’t make as much of an effort with you as I did with the others. I guess I saw you as a goal; something to overcome, instead of a friend.”

“You don’t feel that way any more?” she asked.

“No, I do,” she looked surprised. “I want to beat you. I want to beat you so badly, you have no idea. Every time I see you fight, I’m inspired to get better because if I don’t, I’ll never catch up. But I’ve also realized… that I need to get over myself. I want us to be friends.”

“I want us to be friends, too,” she said earnestly. “Can you forgive me? I never meant for things to go this way.”

“Only if you’ll forgive me for being an idiot,” Jaune shook his head. “I enjoy working out with you. I’d love to train with you, if you are open to the idea.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” she said at once. “And of course, I would love to train with you. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

Jaune grinned. “Never.”

Then his smile faded, thinking.

“What was so different about me, compared to everyone else?” he asked, and he saw the cheer bleed from her face. “You said you looked for ulterior motives… but not with the others?”

For a moment, Jaune didn’t think she was going to answer. But then she slapped her cheeks, causing him to lean back in alarm.

“Pyrrha?”

“Sorry, I just needed to give myself a little bit of motivation,” her cheeks were red from the impact. She hadn’t been gentle. “It’s really stupid, Jaune. Do you really want to know?”

“I do… I think?”

She laughed before becoming serious. “I spoke about how hard it was to make friends, to know if people were approaching me because they really wanted to know me – or for other reasons? Well, that was a bitter lesson I learned from experience. There was a guy…” she scoffed. “Cliche, right? But there was. I was young and stupid, and lonely – and he said all the right things, charming me before I’d even realized it happened. He was handsome and I just… I should have seen it coming but I didn’t. I liked him, and I thought he really liked me…”

He could see where this was going. The pain in her voice was like a physical blow, and he hated how wretched she sounded reliving it.

“When I found out he was only doing it because I was Pyrrha Nikos, the famous fighter… it broke me. I felt used and… easy, like I was some desperate slut begging for just a scrap of love… I just gave it up to the first guy that managed to trick me into believing…”

“Pyrrha,” he interrupted her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say any more.”

“...You look like him.”

“What?”

“That’s why it was you… out of everyone I distrusted. You look like him. Not exactly. You’re more… rugged, and he had longer hair, and wasn’t nearly as built – but he was blond, and blue eyed… and kind, or so I thought.”

“Oh.”

She looked like she wanted to cry but didn’t, holding his gaze.

“I know it’s ridiculous – but when I met you, and you were so nice, my instinct was suspicion. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

“You don’t even have to ask, Pyrrha,” he squeezed her shoulder again, and she relaxed. “I get it. I do. Just… I’m not him. I would never take advantage of you like that. Ever.”

She nodded. “No. I know. I see that now. You could have died… you and Nora both, and I realized what an idiot I’ve been, so I wanted to fix it but I couldn’t bring myself to do it normally, so I volunteered to help with your sword.”

“I’m glad you did,” he said. “Because it worked out.”

Her smile was hesitant.

It was nice to finally have it all out in the open. It was much deeper than he ever thought, and Jaune found himself furious at whoever this guy was that used such an amazing girl like Pyrrha for his own selfish gratification, but he didn’t matter. He wasn’t in Pyrrha’s life.

She was here, at Beacon – with Jaune, and the rest of them.

He offered his hand, and she blinked at it, confused.

“Hi, I’m Jaune. Jaune Arc,” he said and she caught on, her smile no longer hesitant. It was wide and free, full of teeth.

“Pyrrha Nikos. Pleased to meet you, Jaune.”

They shook hands.