Chapter Text
Yang dragged him by the back of his jacket like a misbehaving child, her grip ironclad.
“Alright, Yang!” Jaune gasped, shoes scraping uselessly against the stone. “You made your—ow—point! I messed up! I’m—whoa, hey, legs!—sorry!”
She didn’t even slow down.
Since they’d burst out of the Assembly Hall, Yang hadn’t looked back once. She hauled him across the courtyard and past the dorms, her eyes flicking over windows and walkways, searching for witnesses. With everyone still trapped inside the assembly hall though, there really wasn’t much of a point to it.
Jaune kept talking, because silence felt worse.
“I just—I didn’t know what to say, and I panicked!” he blurted, words tumbling over one another. “It was stupid, I was stupid, and I know I should’ve told you I was at least fine, but I was afraid if—ah!—if I said one thing I’d just say everything and—”
Nothing. No response. Not even a grunt.
She rounded another corner, Jaune finally giving up on resistance and letting his heels drag furrows into the ground. A moment later, Yang veered sharply and yanked him behind one of the buildings, with a view of the Emerald Forest stretching out to their left.
Then she stopped.
Without warning, Yang shoved him forward. Jaune hit the ground hard, air blasting out of his lungs. “Oof! Hey, what the hell—”
He cut himself off as he looked up.
The Yang standing over him wasn’t the one who joked in the hall with the others, who smiled at Pyrrha and laughed with Nora. That warmth was gone, burned away to nothing. What remained was raw, unfiltered fury, and betrayal etched into every hard line of her face. Her eyes were that dangerous shade of red, and while her hair wasn’t glowing, Jaune knew that one wrong word would be the matchstick that set it all ablaze.
Yang drew in a sharp breath, chest heaving.
“ARE. YOU. INSANE?!” she roared.
Her voice cracked through the quiet, hands flinging outward as if the words themselves weren’t enough to contain what she felt. Anger poured out of her, hot and relentless, and Jaune could only sit there, stunned, staring up at her like a deer caught in headlights.
“Uhhhhhh…” was all he managed.
“TWO WEEKS, JAUNE!” She shouted, two fingers thrust inches from his face. “For two weeks you ignored me. Not a message. Not a call. Not even a stupid read receipt! I thought something happened to you on the way to medical school. I thought you were hurt or– or worse! Do you have any idea how worried sick I was?”
Jaune opened his mouth. “Well, I—”
Yang didn’t let him finish. She spun away from him and began pacing, boots scraping against stone as he remained seated on the ground, suddenly very aware of how small he felt.
“Seriously, what was your plan?” she demanded, wheeling back toward him. “You knew I’d be here. I told you I’d be here. Did you honestly think you could hide from me during initiation?” Her hands clenched into fists. “For how long, Jaune?”
“I…” His voice died before it could become anything resembling an answer.
“Let’s say that somehow works,” she went on, sarcasm cutting through her fury. “You dodge me through all of initiation. Great. Fantastic.” She threw her arms wide. “Then they call out your name. Loud. In front of everyone, along with your team.”
She jabbed a finger toward him from across the space. “And do you know who’s going to be calling out team names? GOODWITCH, JAUNE!”
“Well…“
“And let’s say,” she continued, steamrolling right over him, “that after that you magically slip through the cracks again. What then?” Her voice rose, raw and incredulous. “You gonna keep that up for FOUR. FUCKING. YEARS, JAUNE?!”
Yang turned away, dragging in a shaky breath, shoulders heaving for just a moment. Then she whirled back around, eyes blazing, and stalked straight toward him.
Jaune scrambled backward on instinct, palms scraping against the ground until his back hit the wall with a dull thud.
“But let’s not forget the massive fucking elephant in the room,” Yang snarled, closing the last inch of space between them. “Namely, you being here…”
She leaned down until they were eye to eye, her finger pressing hard into his chest. “With a complete lack of actual fucking training, Jaune!”
Jaune let out a short, bitter snort and turned his head away, jaw tightening. “Yeah, well…” he muttered, barely loud enough to hear. “We both know whose fault that is.”
Yang’s glare sharpened. “Oh no,” she said, voice low and dangerous. “No, no no no no! You do not get to take that attitude with me right now, mister. You are not in the right here.” She leaned closer, red eyes burning. “Hell, speaking of your parents, I’d bet five billion lien they don’t even know you’re here, do they?”
Jaune flinched. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, the nervous tic Yang knew all too well. “Well, actually…” he said slowly, “…my dad got me the tickets. He helped me get here.”
Yang froze. Confusion crossed her face, sharp anger cracking into disbelief. “Wait,” she said, “Uncle Nick knows?”
Jaune nodded. “Yeah. It was this… whole thing, and—”
“Oh.” Yang straightened, her posture loosening as if someone had flipped a switch. The fire drained from her eyes, replaced by their bright lilac warmth. She laughed softly and shrugged, turning sideways with her hands lifted. “Well, why didn’t you say so? That changes everything!”
Jaune blinked, thrown off balance. He leaned toward her, cautious. “It… does?”
In a blur of motion, she spun back around.
“OF COURSE NOT!”
Jaune recoiled, heart jumping into his throat. He grimaced, staring at the ground. ‘Should’ve known that was too good to be true…’
Yang dragged both hands through her hair and rested them on her head, pacing a tight circle. She inhaled deeply—once, twice—with her eyes squeezed shut. When she opened them again, the fury was still there, but it had been leashed, reigned in close by effort.
“Jaune,” she said, voice strained but steadier. “Buddy. Pal. Best friend.” Each word landed heavier than the last. “I get it. This is your dream. And gods, I am sorry, so sorry, that the universe is so insistent to keep it out of your hands.” Her voice wavered. “And I’m sorry I didn’t do more to help you reach it.”
Her voice cracked as she gestured around her. “But showing up here like this? At the last second? With no real training?” Her eyes shone. “That’s suicide. You could get yourself seriously hurt.”
Jaune let out a tired sigh. “I’m not made of glass, Yang.”
“This isn’t about you being made of glass!” she shouted, tears spilling over despite herself. “I know you’re not made of glass! But you don’t have to get yourself killed just to prove it!”
She turned away again, spinning in place, hands back on her head, breathing hard as if trying to keep herself from shattering.
“I just…” Jaune said quietly.
Yang stopped and looked at him.
“I just wanted to prove myself,” he continued, words slow, deliberate. “That I had what it takes. That I don’t have to be what she wants me to be.”
Yang laughed bitterly. “Yeah. Sure,” she said. “Throw yourself at some Grimm. That’ll really show everyone.” Her eyes hardened. “Gods, Jaune. Are you really that fucking selfish?”
Finally, Jaune snapped.
“I’M BEING SELFISH YANG?!” The words tore out of him, and Yang flinched as if struck. Her mouth fell open for a heartbeat before she forced it shut, shock freezing her in place. Jaune took a step closer, his hands shaking as he spoke, each word stemming from years of pent-up fury. “You said it yourself! This is my dream! It’s everything I’ve wanted since we were kids! But my whole life, everyone decided it wasn’t meant for me—and did everything they could to make sure I never reached it. My own family, Yang!”
He grabbed her hands, fingers locking around hers desperately. “Can you honestly blame me for wanting to be selfish for once?”
Yang squeezed her eyes shut briefly, drawing in a slow, measured breath that did nothing to steady her chest. “Jaune… you have a life back home. A family who loves you. A girlfriend who loves you!” She stressed those last words, and when Jaune wrenched his hands free with a bitter scoff, her frustration flared. “I just don’t understand why you’re so eager to throw all of that away!”
“Because it’s not the life I want, Yang!” Jaune shouted back. “The life I want is the one I choose for myself. The one we talked about—the one we promised each other, back when we were kids—”
“DON’T YOU DARE!” Yang’s voice exploded, trembling with rage and something dangerously close to fear. “DON’T YOU DARE PIN THIS ON ME, JAUNE MILES ARC!” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Don’t tell me you’re doing this because of some stupid promise we made when we were kids—and that you might die because of it!”
“IT’S NOT A STUPID PROMISE TO ME!” Jaune shot back.
Silence slammed down between them. They stood facing each other, chests heaving, breath ragged.
Jaune sagged as his strength left his body. His shoulders brushed the wall, and he let himself slide down the cold stone until he hit the ground. Tilting his head back, he stared up at the open sky from the ground, mouth hanging open.
“...Katy and I broke up,” he said, the words barely audible.
Yang’s eyes flew open. “W–what?” The sound caught in her throat. “What? When?”
Jaune shut his eyes and released a long, tired exhale. “A day or two after our call. Before I left for Beacon.”
She leaned back against the opposite wall, the rough surface scraping against her jacket as she tried to make sense of it. “B–but I don’t get it!” she said, shaking her head. “You two were perfect for each other! Why—”
A quiet, humorless laugh escaped him. “Yeah… that’s how it always looked, right?” His lips twitched, but there was no real smile there. “Thing is… she was kind of like my mom. She just… had our whole future planned out already, y’know?” His voice softened, weighed down by resignation. “Assumed I’d be the perfect husband for her, and all that.”
Yang frowned, confusion knitting her brows as he glanced down at the ground between his shoes. He laughed again, softer this time, as if the sound embarrassed him. “She thought I’d become a doctor, like everyone else. That she’d be a… housewife or something, and we’d have a big family, quiet life.” His fingers curled against the stone. “Then when she caught me making plans to go to Beacon… we fought.”
Yang didn’t interrupt. She only nodded, urging him on.
Jaune lifted his gaze back to the sky, a faint, aching smile touching his lips. “She told me I was being selfish too,” he said. “All because I didn’t want the life she thought we were supposed to have.” His smile faded. “When she threatened to tell my mom, she kind of just… stopped. I think that was when it hit her.” His voice dropped. “That, like everyone else, she’d never actually asked me what I wanted to do.”
He paused, then added quietly, “Well… everyone except you, that is.”
Jaune let out one last soft chuckle and glanced at Yang from the corner of his eye. She didn’t smile back. She just stared at him, pale and stunned. With a sigh, he turned his attention upward again.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “She just thought I was safe. Predictable.” His voice grew distant. “Thought I’d always be right there, the center of her… little world back in Radian. So when she realized I wasn’t…” He swallowed. “She told me to chase my dream. But she wasn’t gonna wait for me to do it.”
When Jaune finished, silence settled between them. Yang gulped and stared at her knees in front of her, unsure what to say. Jaune didn’t move, kept watching the clouds float by above him.
Then something clicked.
“...How’d you even get into initiation, Jaune?”
He flinched, just barely, and shifted his weight, trying to sink farther into the stone at his back. “Took the written exams,” he said. “Same as you.”
Yang shook her head, still not looking at him. “…Without certification from a prep school?”
The silence this time was answer enough. Jaune’s eyes dropped to his lap, and he said nothing.
Yang shot to her feet. “Brothers, Jaune, tell me you didn’t forge your way in with fake papers.”
He shrugged.
She turned away from him with a sharp exhale, hands flying up in exasperation. “Of course you did…” she muttered. “Of course you did!” She paced a step, then spun back, a fragile flicker of hope in her eyes. “Did you at least use a fake name?”
That hope died the moment he scratched the back of his neck and looked away, shame finally creeping across his face. “Um…”
“Jaune! Really?!” she shouted, disbelief cracking her voice. He had nothing to offer but another helpless shrug.
“Holy shit, Jaune…” Yang dragged her hands up into her hair and squeezed her eyes shut. “How the hell has she not caught you yet…?”
Her breathing hitched, turning sharp and uneven. Jaune sat up, alarm cutting through his own shock. “Uh…Yang?”
She didn’t hear him. A short, strangled snort escaped her, half-laugh, half-sob. “Honestly, you’re just such an—”
The sound twisted into a chuckle.
Jaune’s stomach dropped.
The chuckle broke apart into laughter—wild, unrestrained, and bordering on hysterical. He stood slowly and stepped closer, placing a careful hand on her shoulder. “Yang? You okay?”
She spun on him.
Tears streaked down her cheeks, her smile stretched too wide, trembling between laughter and despair.
“NO, JAUNE! I AM NOT OKAY!” she screamed. “MY BEST FRIEND APPARENTLY HAS A DEATH WISH, AND I— I— I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT!”
Her voice fractured. She lurched between laughter and sobbing, mouth opening again and again with nothing coherent coming out.
Jaune could only watch. His mind ran through the advice his mother gave him, on what to do in a situation like this.
Tentatively, he reached out, arm lifting in a silent offer, hoping to pull her into a hug, hoping it might help.
But Yang slapped his hand away without even looking. He dropped his arm at once, chest tight, and stood there helplessly as she shook in front of him, trying and failing to hold herself together.
After drawing in a few more unsteady breaths, she forced the shaking out of her hands before she finally looked up at him, her voice wavering anyway.. “Look, j-just because Katy broke up with you—!”
“This isn’t about her, Yang!” Jaune cried, reaching to grip her shoulders softly, before dropping his hands again. “This has never been about her. This is about being me, for once in my life! This is who I want to be! Look, maybe I’ll get caught or… or maybe I’ll flunk out! But at least it’ll be my choice for once, while following my dream—!”
“This isn’t about you flunking out, you moron!” she screamed. “This is about you LOSING YOUR GODDAMN LIFE! WHAT PART OF THAT DON’T YOU GET?!”
Silence rushed in after her outburst, thick and heavy. Jaune watched as she turned away, shoulders trembling, then thrust a shaking finger toward the looming green sprawl of the Emerald Forest in the distance.
“Look at that forest, Jaune,” she said hoarsely. “You see it? Glynda didn’t tell me much about the exam—wanted to keep it ‘fair.’ But I know a few things.” Her hand curled into a fist. “During Initiation, we’ll be alone out there, fighting Grimm. They expect us to handle it because we’ve been trained for it.” Her voice dropped. “You haven’t.”
Jaune grimaced down at her. “Yang, that… that doesn’t… I don’t care, I—”
“I DO!” She surged forward and grabbed his hoodie in both fists, yanking him down to her eye level. Her eyes burned with fear and fury in equal measure. “I do, Jaune! I care about you! A-And the fact that you apparently don’t care about yourself scares the shit out of me!”
The fire drained from his expression, leaving something tired and stubborn in its place. He exhaled slowly. “Look…” he said, drawing his sword with a soft metallic whisper. “I’ve got the sword and shield. My aura. Some aura-medic tricks my mom taught me. I’ll get through this. You don’t have to baby me, Yang.”
Yang snorted, shaking her head and turning away with a giggle as if she'd just heard the most ridiculous thing imaginable. “Don’t have to baby me, he says…”
Then—crack.
Yang spun and drove her fist into his stomach.
The impact knocked the breath clean out of him and sent him crashing back into the wall. He slid a step, wheezing, barely catching himself with one arm to keep from collapsing entirely.
“What the hell, Ya—”
“THERE! YOU’RE DEAD!”
Jaune gaped at her as Yang stared down at him, eyes red once more. “That’s all it took Jaune! One hit of me holding back, way back, and you went down! Now imagine if I was an Ursa instead, huh? Your stomach is gone!”
Her arms rose, her stance shifting as she began to bounce lightly on the balls of her feet, energy coiling through her. “But come on, Jaune! You want to prove yourself? Prove you can survive down there? Then come on! Knock me down!”
She lunged again, and Jaune barely raised his shield in time. The blow sent him skidding along the wall until his shoulder hit the far end with a dull thud.
“Are you crazy?!” he shouted.
“Am I crazy?!” Yang snapped back. “Look who’s talking! That was me barely trying! Out there, every single Grimm is going to come at you with intent to kill!" She lunged forward once more, drawing her arm behind her.
“Damn it!” Jaune cried, lowering his shield. “I won’t fight you, Yang!”
Yang froze. Her hair flared brilliant gold, and her fist stopped inches from his face.
“Won’t,” she said quietly, teeth clenched, “or can’t, Jaune?”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Didn’t answer.
For a long moment, they stood there, locked in place, anger and fear colliding between them. Then Yang exhaled slowly. The glow faded. Her hair dimmed, her eyes softening back to lilac as the tension drained from her frame, leaving only exhaustion behind.
“Jaune, you don’t get it.” Yang whispered. “You showed up here with almost zero training. You’re trying to join a monster-hunting school without knowing how to fight monsters.”
She folded her arms around herself, fingers digging into her sleeves like she was holding herself together. “I’ll be taking that test. Ruby will be taking that test. Goodwitch will be watching us the entire time. Which means all of us could watch you die right in front of our eyes.”
She looked up at him then, and the desperation in her eyes stole the breath from his lungs. Whatever argument he’d been building collapsed before it ever reached his tongue.
“And I’m supposed to just… what?” she continued. “Be okay with that? Shrug and say, ‘It’s what he wanted’?” Her laugh was sharp, humorless. “Because the reality is, you could die. As in—death. No coming back. Ever. And somehow that hasn’t sunk in…”
When she finished, silence stretched between them. Jaune just stared at her, face unreadable. For a fleeting moment, Yang thought she’d finally reached him—that something had cracked through his stubbornness and taken root.
Then his expression twisted. His jaw clenched, his lips pulling back in something close to a snarl as he turned away.
“I thought you… of all people…”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
And the dam broke.
“So what am I SUPPOSED TO DO THEN?!” Jaune roared, his voice exploding through the air. “ROT IN SOME OFFICE SOMEWHERE, DYING A LITTLE EVERY DAY UNTIL I STOP TALKING TO MY OWN FAMILY?! TO YOU?!” His hands shook in the air as he shouted. “YOU SAY YOU’RE AFRAID OF ME DYING—BUT DOING THAT WOULDN’T EVEN BE LIVING—!”
He stopped short.
The look on her face—pure horror, layered with heartbreak and fear—hit him harder than anything she’d said. His anger collapsed in on itself, burning out all at once. His shoulders sagged, and he looked away, shame flooding in where fury had been.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” he whispered.
He glanced back up at her, searching for her eyes, but she’d already turned away. She nodded stiffly, still shaken, rubbing at her elbows like she was trying to anchor herself.
Jaune took a slow, unsteady breath, the weight of what he’d almost done settling heavily in his chest.
“But, Yang…” He exhaled the words, a weary sound dragged up from somewhere deep in his chest. His expression hardened, jaw setting as if he were bracing for impact. “I can’t live like that. Not that life.”
He swept a hand around them, encompassing the cracked stone, the open sky, everything. “This…” His hand fell back to his side. “All of this? This is my future. And I’m going to keep reaching for it. No matter what it takes. Even if no one believes in me.”
His eyes softened then, regret flickering across them, but his voice remained steady. “Not even you.”
Yang stared up at him, wide-eyed. For a long moment neither of them spoke. The world seemed to hold its breath as they locked gazes, silence pressing in while a myriad of a thousand unspoken emotions churned between them.
At last, Yang’s strength gave way. She stepped back until her shoulders met the wall again, then slid down it, hands coming up to cover her face. “What am I gonna do now…?” she muttered, her voice small and fractured.
Jaune sighed, the sound heavy with acceptance. “Look… you don’t have to help me.” He hesitated, then gave a faint, self-aware huff. “You’re leagues ahead of me… I’d probably just slow you down.”
He paused, then added quietly, with a certainty that surprised even himself, “But I won’t die. I’ll make it through this. Arc’s promise.”
He moved closer and knelt in front of her, lowering himself to her level. Yang peeked at him through her fingers as he met her gaze again.
“But I have to do this, Yang.”
And there it was. That look in his eyes. She’d seen it in him before, so many times growing up. The look of someone so deadset on their choice nothing would get in their way.
‘There’s no changing his mind, is there?’ she thought.
Suddenly, Yang screamed, a scream full of frustration, into her hands.
Jaune blinked at her from where he knelt. “Uh… Yang?” he ventured, uncertain, watching her rise to her feet.
“Gods… DAMN IT, Jaune Arc!” she snarled into her palms. “Gods damn you… oh my gods, I can’t believe I’m about to do this!”
He tilted his head, brow furrowing. “Sorry… what exactly are you saying?”
Yang dropped her hands. She glared down at him, her eyes still red from fury and dried tears, but now lit by something else as well: resolve. The same stubborn resolve he’d worn moments ago.
“Jaune,” she said flatly, clapping her hands together as if organizing her thoughts, “here are my options.”
Jaune gulped.
“Option A: I beat the ever-living crap out of you right now before you get the chance to throw yourself to the wolves, drag you to Goodwitch, tell her you’re being an idiot—which you ARE—and she sends you home.”
Jaune frowned and glanced away, as if he were considering it. “Not a fan of that one, gonna be honest.”
“Option B!” Yang’s voice rose, her eyebrow following it, and Jaune snapped his mouth shut on instinct. “You and I go to Goodwitch together, somehow convince the Glynda Goodwitch to let you take the exam, and instead of showing off that I didn’t get here on her coattails, I spend the entire time trying to keep your dumbass alive.”
Jaune opened his mouth to protest.
“Uh-uh. Shut up,” Yang hissed, eyes flashing red as she leaned forward. “You and I both know now that no matter how many times you tell me not to worry, I won’t be able to take that exam without wondering if you’re even still breathing.”
He stared at her. “Wait… you mean—”
“Yes,” she cut in with a weary sigh. “Against my better judgment, my survival instincts, and probably common sense… I’ll be helping you pass this exam.” Her jaw tightened. “Because I know you. No matter how hard the world tries to stop you, you’ll keep pushing through anyway.” A beat. “Because you’re a stubborn idiot.”
Something warm swelled in Jaune’s chest. He sprang to his feet, grinning, arms lifting on reflex. “Yang, thank you so—”
“Don’t.”
The word was sharp enough to freeze him mid-step. She scowled up at him, unimpressed and still very, very angry.
“I am still unbelievably pissed at you, Jaune Arc.” She jabbed a finger into his chest, hard enough to make him stumble back half a step. “Do you have any idea of the gravity of what I’m risking for you? I’m sticking my neck out for you. Because if Goodwitch had found you before I did, you’d already be strapped into the first airship back to Radian. So you owe me. Big time.” Her voice dropped. “Because if something happens to you now—after I help you convince her…”
She shook her head, as if physically rejecting the thought, then turned on her heel.
“Come on,” she snapped over her shoulder. “Let’s go find her before I change my mind.”
Yang marched down the alley, muttering curses under her breath. “Fuck. FUCK!” Then she shouted upward, to no one and everyone in particular, “I hate you so much right now! Gods, I can’t believe I’m doing this!”
Jaune watched her go, the echo of her voice lingering long after she rounded the corner. Slowly, a smile crept across his face.
“Thanks, Yang,” he murmured.
“JAUNE!” He flinched as she spun back around the corner, eyes glaring daggers as she waited for him to catch up.
“Oop—sorry!” He scrambled for his gear and hurried after her, heart pounding, grin still firmly in place.
The walk back to the assembly hall stretched on in a suffocating quiet. Yang set the pace, gaze locked straight ahead as if the path itself had personally offended her. Jaune trailed a few steps behind, his shoes scuffing softly against the ground, every attempt at conversation dying before it could leave his mouth.
As the silhouette of the hall came into view, Jaune finally drew in a breath.
“Shut up,” Yang snapped without turning around, as though she’d felt the words forming behind her. “Just… don’t, Jaune. Not right now.”
He hesitated, then said anyway, voice low. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Yang stopped dead.
She turned slowly, red eyes sharp, and for a moment they simply looked at each other. Jaune stood a few feet away, hands hanging awkwardly at his sides, regret written plainly across his face.
“I keep thinking about that look you had,” he said quietly. “When I yelled at you, I mean. That face you made.”
Something flickered in Yang’s expression. She flinched, her eyes turning back to lilac as her arm lifted on instinct to rub at her elbow—then she caught herself and let it fall, fingers curling into a fist instead. “I mean…” she muttered, eyes sliding away. “I was being kind of a bitch.”
Jaune shook his head immediately. “No. No, you weren’t.” He stepped closer, just a fraction. “I mean, yeah, you yelled… but you were scared. You were trying to protect me. I was the one who lashed out.”
Yang let out a breath, sharp and tired. “Jaune—”
“Let me finish!” Jaune cut in, waving a hand in front of himself. “You’re right. You’re risking a lot for me right now, even though I know you’d rather I be anywhere else.” His mouth curved into a small, rueful smile as he rubbed the back of his head. “You’ve always done that for me, ever since we were kids.”
Yang’s gaze returned to him, guarded but listening.
“And you’re right,” he went on. “I’m… painfully unprepared for this. But I do know some things, thanks to you!”
She arched an eyebrow. “You mean those basic ‘self-defense’ moves I showed you when we were twelve?” she said dryly. “And the random workout plans I made so you could be my ‘gym buddy’?”
There was a hint of teasing in her voice, but no smile followed it.
“Yeah, those!” Jaune said, grinning despite himself. “Hey, at least I won’t be totally flabby. I’ve got a few muscles I can show off!” He lifted his arms and showed off an exaggerated flex. “I mean, look at these!”
A short, surprised snort escaped her before she could stop it. ‘At least that part’s not a complete lie,’ she thought.
Jaune lowered his arms, his grin fading into something more serious. “But that face, Yang?” he said softly. “…The way you looked at me? I never want to see you like that again… and I never wanted to be the reason you did.” His voice tightened. “Hurting you is the last thing I ever want to do. So,” he finished, “I’m sorry. You were right. I should’ve thought this through better.”
They stood there for a moment, the silence settling between them. Jaune’s gaze was fixed on the floor, while Yang watched him from the corner of her eye. She sniffed, scrubbing at her nose and brushing away the last traces of tears that had long since dried.
“You getting cold feet there, buddy?”
Jaune perked up, lifting his head. “I—huh?”
She was smiling when he looked at her. Not one of her usual bright, fearless grins, but something smaller and gentler. One hand rested on her hip as she studied him. “Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like you’re suddenly scared to face the second-scariest woman in our lives together.”
A short laugh slipped out of him before he caught himself. His brow furrowed. “Wait—second? Who’s the firs—”
“Nana.”
Jaune blinked. “Really? Not my mom?”
Yang shook her head, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Cereal Boy, if you were that scared of your mom compared to Goodwitch, you never would’ve gone behind her back to get here in the first place, now would you?”
She started walking again, boots crunching against the ground. Jaune lingered for half a step, then shrugged and followed. “Yeah… can’t really argue with that logic.”
He jogged to catch up to her side, though she had already slowed, her hands tucked deep into the pockets of her jacket.
“I still don’t forgive you, by the way,” Yang said, her voice quieter now. Her eyes were fixed on the ground ahead of them. “For being so careless with your life like that.”
She glanced sideways at him. “I do forgive you for what you said when you were angry. That part, I get. But the rest…?” She let the thought trail off.
Jaune nodded, his expression sober. “Honestly, I’d be kinda upset if you did forgive me already.” He exhaled slowly. “Because you’re right. It was really, really, really stupid of me. But…” He hesitated, then straightened. “But I can’t quit now. Not when you’re giving me this chance.”
Yang huffed under her breath. She nodded, once, slowly, lips curving into a wry smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah…” she said. “Guess that makes me the stupid one now, huh?”
When they finally reached the assembly hall, Jaune reached for the door. Before he could turn it, Yang’s hand settled over his, holding it in place.
“Wait,” she murmured. “Let Oz finish his speech. If we walk in now, we’ll draw way too much attention.”
Jaune glanced back at her, startled, then nodded. “Oh. Um… yeah. Alright.”
He let go of the handle, and the two of them stood next to each other awkwardly. Jaune cleared his throat and looked up at the clouds again, while Yang sat down at the edge of the steps, hands back in her jacket pockets.
Minutes passed. Ozpin’s muffled voice carried his speech faintly through the door. Finally, Yang exhaled, long and heavy.
“Hey… Jaune?”
He looked down at her. She was staring at the stone beneath her boots, shoulders hunched. He sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed. “…Yeah?”
Yang swallowed. “…I’m sorry for… punching you earlier,” she whispered. “And then again. And then almost punching you in the face.” Her mouth twisted. “…Kind of a fucked up thing for me to do if I’m supposed to be convincing you not to get yourself killed.”
Jaune blinked, then laughed quietly, bumping her shoulder with his. “You kidding? Those were nothing. I’ve gotta get used to worse if I’m gonna stick around.”
Her face shot up, scrunched in disbelief. “Those were nothing? You serious–” Yang glared at him without any real anger in her eyes, just… quiet remorse. “No, that’s not the point. That wasn’t a sanctioned sparring match or a tournament battle, that was just us. That was me lashing out and losing it and—”
He shook his head, cutting her off, and reached into her pocket, curling his fingers around hers. “Yang. It’s okay. Really. Don’t worry about it.” He hesitated, then added, “But… if it’ll make you feel better…”
He cleared his throat and straightened theatrically. “Yang Xiao-Long, I officially forgive you for nearly punching me in the nards and knocking the wind out of me.”
He punctuated it with an exaggerated wave of his free hand. Yang’s lips twitched before she could stop them, and she shook her head, a reluctant smile breaking through.
“…And my schnozz,” Jaune added quickly.
Immediately, Yang whipped around to face him. “So you did read my messages, you dick!” She swatted his shoulder lightly, careful not to put any force behind them. “Why didn’t you answer? You scared the shit out of me, dude!”
Jaune laughed, leaning away as she batted at him. “It’s just… Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to keep things from you? Seriously, I was this close to telling you everything during our last call!”
She gaped at him. “That’s what you were so nervous about when we talked? Your big medical school thing that meant you couldn’t meet up with Ruby? You getting ready for Beacon?”
“Well… yeah!” he admitted. “I thought if I told you, you’d… try to convince me not to do it, y’know?”
Yang said nothing, just raised an eyebrow and gestured around them with her head.
Jaune coughed and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I, uh… I mean, I’ve been planning this for months, kind of… trying to find out how to get here without anyone knowing and… well, with the benefit of hindsight…”
Yang snorted and shook her head. She pulled her knees up, resting her cheek against them as she looked at him. “You know that… if you had told me from the beginning? I’d have dropped everything to help you out. Even if your mom still said no.”
Jaune laughed breathlessly and threw his head back. “Yeah, I know you would have.” His smile softened. “That’s… probably why I didn’t tell you, honestly… partially… Didn’t want to be a burden, what with you and your studies…”
Yang frowned and lifted her hand, rapping her knuckles lightly against his head. Jaune let out another hollow chuckle and didn’t even bother to dodge.
“You’re not a burden, Jaune,” she whispered firmly. “You never have been. Get that through your thick skull already.”
He looked at her for a long moment, as if weighing her words, then turned his gaze forward. A smile tugged at his lips—but it felt incomplete, like he wasn’t quite ready to believe her. “Yeah… I know…”
Yang watched him from the corner of her eye, disappointment flickering across her expression. She bumped his shoulder with her own this time, grounding him. “Hey… I hope you know… I do believe in you. Always have, always will. I think you’d make a great huntsman.” Her voice softened, then tilted back into teasing seriousness. “Just… next time you pull a stupid stunt like this? Talk to me first, so I can help you make it slightly less stupid, y’know?”
Jaune swallowed, his throat tight, and nodded. “Yeah… okay.”
He turned back toward her, curiosity replacing some of the heaviness in his eyes. “By the way… new jacket? Don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear it. Usually it’s the biker one.”
Yang brightened instantly. She raised her arms and twisted at the waist, deliberately showing it off, the dark brown aviator jacket catching the light as she moved. “Yep. Ruby got it for me in Vale City. Pretty cool, huh?”
Jaune hummed in appreciation. “Yeah. Looks good on you.”
Yang smirked. “Oh Jaune… Everything looks good on me,” she said, striking a pose and pinching her chin between two fingers.
“Wellll…” Jaune began, dragging the word out.
“Oi!” Yang laughed, cutting him off as she lightly punched his shoulder again. He laughed too, the sound warmer this time, and for a moment the weight between them eased.
When applause suddenly erupted from inside the assembly hall, Yang nudged him with her elbow. “Hey,” she said quietly, “we’ll make it through this, Cereal Boy. Okay? Just… trust me, in the future?”
Jaune smiled—this time, fully. “Yeah,” he said. “You got it.”
When the applause finally ebbed into background noise, Jaune eased the door open just enough to slip his head through the gap. He scanned the room, then exhaled.
“Alright… coast is clear,” he whispered, nodding to her.
Together, they nudged the door wider and slid inside carefully. The hall had already dissolved back into easy laughter and drifting conversations, as though Ozpin’s speech had never happened at all. No one spared them a second glance as they shut the door behind them quietly.
Yang didn’t relax. Her eyes immediately began to comb the crowd, scanning every square inch she could see. “Okay,” she muttered, barely moving her lips. “First things first: let’s find Ruby. Once we explain everything to her, she can probably help us—”
Jaune’s hand closed around her shoulder.
“Uh,” he said, his voice thin. “I think we’ve got bigger problems.”
Yang followed where he was pointing—and groaned.
Deputy Headmistress Goodwitch-Xiao-Long was already cutting through the crowd toward them, heels clicking sharply against the tile.
Yang rolled her shoulders back. “Great,” she huffed. “Guess we’re doing this now… wait, what are you doing?!” she hissed.
Jaune had ducked behind her like a shield, grabbing onto the back of her jacket.
“Hey, you said you’d help me!” he whispered urgently.
“Yeah, to help you take the test! Not to get us both killed in a double suicide!” Yang hissed back as she shot him a glare over her shoulder, her eyes flashing red. “You do realize I’m still extremely pissed at you, right? This is not helping your case!”
“Yeah, I know…” Jaune admitted. Then, nervously he smiled up at her. “But you still love me?”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes, though the corner of her mouth betrayed her. “Not right now, I don’t.”
Finally, Glynda stopped in front of them, gaze snapping immediately to her daughter.
“Yang, where were you?” she demanded. “I was looking for you during Ozpin’s speech and—” She faltered, eyes narrowing with sudden concern. “Brothers, Yang, are you alright?! Your face—have you been crying?”
Behind her, Yang felt Jaune stiffen.
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, shaking her head and gently batting away Glynda’s reaching hand before a handkerchief could appear. “It’s… complicated. But… there’s someone I want you to meet.”
With that, Yang stepped aside, leaving Jaune standing there alone—hunched over and painfully exposed, trying and failing to look smaller than he already was.
“Ehehehe…” he laughed weakly. “Hey, Mrs. Xiao-Long. It’s… uh. It’s me.”
Glynda stared at him, expression unreadable. The seconds stretched, and Yang silently counted to ten.
Then Glynda turned back to her daughter, her voice cool and precise, and unmistakably dangerous.
“Both of you. With me. Now.”