Chapter 9: A Normal Girl with Normal Knees

"Thankfully, my full memory has come back. Even the ones that haunt me."

— 18—

Hat on.

Hat off.

Hat on?

Cards frowned at her reflection. Even after a shower and a not-so-good-night's rest she looked haggard with her tired, sunken eyes and untidy haircut. Her crest lay flat against her against her short-cut hair, red and black feathers unkempt. If she ran a comb through it, it'd probably break at the handle.

Hat off.

The bird girl pulled at the corners of her lips, forcing a wide smile. Too hard. It was aggravating her wounds. But for a brief instance her crest puffed to life. Or at least something that didn't look quite as dead. It didn't stop her from looking as though she'd gone ten rounds with a Beringel, though, which actually wasn't that far from the truth. She deflated, letting the plume droop against her head.

Who was she trying to fool? Hat on, definitely. Even if she was just delaying the inevitable she felt more at ease wearing it.

The beret took a lot of work to look right. You had to shave them down to a proper thinness, which helped Cards developed several useful skills along the way. And to form it to your head, you had to shower with it, then spend several hours just petting yourself to make sure it formed right. So, in a way, better that she looks better in the hat she put so much effort into wearing. Made all her work feel worth it. Even in comfy casual clothes, she needed her beret.

Well, mostly casual. Her current wardrobe consisted of a beret, booty shorts (she rocked 'em, and anyone who said otherwise was stupid and she would cry at them until they apologized), and a sweatshirt. One depicting a happy Goliath Grimm carrying an ice cream cone, captioned with the words, "I scream, you scream, we all just scream constantly. Each day is a new nightmare on this hellworld we call Remnant."

These temp dorms were a lot more accommodating than the common room back during their first night. Smaller than she would have liked, and very obviously thrown together at the last minute, but with only a single roommate it gave her some much needed privacy. If her feathers had lungs they would have suffocated a long time ago, so she was grateful for that.

Of course, now that she thought about it, Pyrrha had been gone for a while. She said she was just going out for a walk, but her voice was so… defeated? It was hard to say. Pyrrha was a woman who… fuck, there that word was again. She couldn't have been that much older than Cards, if at all. But there was something about her that was so much more adult. Not in a risque kind of way, but in the sense that she seemed like she was above and beyond things like teen drama; stuck in the world of adult fears like taxes or making sure you didn't confuse your with you're on social media.

But Pyrrha was still a girl, at the end of the day. And she was the only one of them who'd lost someone. Sure, Cards had kind of gotten to know Jack—like a well-spoken villain from an old gangster flick—but did she ever really know him? No, not really. The same way she hadn't known any of the archeologists that died back there.

And as much as she tried to ignore the part of her that said she didn't care, she really couldn't care. Not in the way that Pyrrha did. Sympathetic, but ultimately abstract. Like crying with your best friend to let them know they weren't alone.

Maybe Pyrrha preferred to cry by herself?

Cards collapsed onto her twin-size bed, sinking into the mattress. Even now, she felt useless. She couldn't do anything for Pyrrha. She couldn't even protect Ruby or Weiss or any of the archaeologists. And it was her fault Cielo had ended up in a sling.

She rolled over, curling into a ball of densely concentrated self-pity as she dragged the folded a pillow over her ears. She could still hear the archaeologists screaming. See Grimm fangs and claws sinking into them.

She tried to distract herself by browsing the web. Random articles, mindless videos, anything. Then came a notification. A high pitch jingle. Maybe she should actually set her scroll to vibrate. Odds were she'd just forget until a very crucial moment during a mission. And nearly get everyone killed. Again. She stretched the hardlight screen open. It was a mass email from Beacon. "NEW STUDENT FAMILY DAY COMING SOON!"

She skimmed the email. All she really picked up before her eyes glazed over was that in light of recent tragedies, student families were invited to come to Beacon and check up on their kids. Cards snorted. She had to wonder how many students here were orphans or, better yet, had rocky relationships with their parents. This whole thing just seemed like it'd be an angst party waiting to happen.

The memory of the day Cards had told her mother of her dream—to be a Huntress just like she used to be—was so vivid in her mind's eye. The red-hot rage that flashed in her otherwise calm eyes.

Cards flinched, expecting to get hit again. Instead, her mom made it a point to have the girl tag along with her while she investigated crime scenes. It was obvious what her mom was trying to do. She wanted Cards to see the world for what it was outside of her sheltered room and husbando posters. To make her confront the very basic horrors every Hunter inevitably faced. To pay deference to death and appreciate life.

Cards understood. Or she thought she had. Seeing a dead body and watching someone actually die—ripped apart by the Grimm. They didn't even come close to comparing. The sudden, visceral finality to it. Nothing quite so dramatic the way TV made it look. Maybe she'd always known that and this was just the wake-up call she needed. Maybe she just wasn't cut out for this?

If she curled any harder into herself she'd collapse into black hole. And staying cooped up in her room wasn't making her feel any better. But going outside didn't appeal to her at all. Her chances of running into Yang increased by one-hundred percent compared to just wallowing in self-pity. Which was a lot less fun without the tub of ice cream and a homoerotic, bro-cest dripping episode of Ultranatural.

Stupid room didn't even have a TV. Or microwave.

"You both stood there and promised me you'd watch over her!" Yang had screamed, blonde mane like a bonfire. Then she turned to Jaune. "And you! This is all your fucking fault to begin with! You're the one who dragged her along with your stupid game!"

If staff hadn't gotten in between them she was sure Yang would have ended up killing Jaune.

Still, Cards had gone through all that trouble of shaving her beret. It was her way of forcing herself to leave the cramped little space. Not as effective as she would have liked it to be.

What was she going to do, though? After going through the trouble of shaving her beret, she couldn't just stay locked up in here. She wanted to see how Cielo, Ruby, and Weiss were doing. But she couldn't bring herself to look at any of them right now. Not that Ruby was speaking to anyone at all the last time they saw each other. Maybe she could find Pyrrha? Or maybe it'd be best to leave her alone right now?

What Cards needed was fresh air. Something she wasn't getting in here. The air felt hot and walls looked like they were closing in all around her.

The pillow flopped carelessly onto the floor as she rolled out of bed. Her legs were like anchors as they dragged her towards the door, slippered feet scraping against the carpet.

Fingers on the knob, she opened the door and—

"Cards," Pyrrha blurted. She looked as surprised as Cards probably did. "Uh, hi!"

Cards' wrinkled, three-sizes-too-large sweatshirt slumped down her shoulder as she stared up at the manishly-tall redhead, scouring her head for an appropriate response. "Y-you too!"

Goddammit.

Pyrrha's face looked way too much like a question mark for half a second. To Cards' silent relief, the towering girl chose not to concern herself with it any further.

Seriously, Cards had to crane her neck up to get a good look at the taller girl's face. It wasn't as bad as it was with Cielo or Jack, but she was getting tired of everyone vertically flexing on her. Unlike Ruby, who was perfectly compact.

"I'm not… uh, nevermind that right now," she said with a shake of the head. Then a warm and concerned, if not a little strained, smile. It was the same smile Cards imagined her own mom would have. "Is everything okay? How are you feeling right now?"

Her partner was gone—dead, yet still Pyrrha had it in her to worry about others. And her eyes were just as clear as they'd always been, if not baggy and exhausted. Just one more way she was better than Cards. She hadn't even gone to see her partner yet.

"I'm." A small pause. "Doing okay."

It wasn't very convincing. Pyrrha's brow furrowed in a light frown and placed a soft palm on her shoulder. It was difficult not to nestle against her arm right now. "It's okay if you aren't, Cards. I don't think anyone's feeling particularly happy about last night. You don't have to pretend."

Cards didn't know how to respond to that. She just silently took comfort in Pyrrha's presence.

"Do you want to sit down and talk about it?" the redhead asked.

A small, feeble smile tugged at Cards' lips in a way that dimly lit her hollow-eyed face. "I'd rather walk, actually."

Pyrrha returned the smile, just as small and even more dim.

Most of Atlas' military had moved out since the night after the initiation. So it helped free up the halls, if only marginally so. With the Emerald Forest still on fire—and Cards still trying to pretend it wasn't only partially her fault—you don't really go outside without a mask unless you felt like sucking down a lungful of smoke, so most stayed indoors. Aura or not, it just didn't feel good. Some students hanging around in the halls seemed to be going over all of these rumors and theories with their friends about what happened during the initiation. A small surge of pride welled in Cards chest at being one of the only students currently in-the-know. Or as in-the-know as Headmaster Ozpin let them be.

In anycase, she and Pyrrha had to content themselves with wandering the building they'd been stuffed in.

Save for the occasional chatter around them, things were uncomfortably quiet. The spare glances Cards stole from Pyrrha made it obvious that she wanted to say something, but didn't know if she should. She was surprisingly open-booked like that.

She had to press down on her beret to keep her crest from flipping it off when the other girl finally spoke.

"So what's on your mind, Cards? For real this time." Pyrrha gently nudged the girl with her elbow. And despite almost fumbling over, Cards couldn't help but smile at that. Most people seemed to overlook small, affectionate gestures like that. They probably meant more to her than it did to them.

At least she could tell Pyrrha was there for her.

"I fucked up again," she said simply. "Just like I always do."

She could feel the concerned mom look Pyrrha was giving her. "Cards…"

"Please don't say that I didn't, or that no one knew what to do." Because she knew that, but how could she accept it? Just pawn the burden onto everyone else so that she felt better about it? After what happened to the others, beating herself up was the only recourse available to her right now. "Ruby's all beat up in the infirmary, not talking to anyone. And after I told Yang I'd watch over her. If I'd been able to pull my own weight, she wouldn't have blamed Jaune for what happened. My own partner got hurt because I couldn't keep my promise, and I haven't even tried to visit him yet. What else can you call that but fucking up?"

It was selfish, but she wanted to think unloading that on someone would have made her feel just a little better. It didn't. All she'd done was vocally remind herself of her own shortcomings.

Pyrrha wasn't saying anything. She'd gone too far and made things weird, hadn't she?

A pair of hands—much softer than you'd expect from a star athlete—seized Cards by her shoulders and pulled her into a gentle, muscle-y armed hug. The smaller girl froze for a moment, head tucked just beneath beneath Pyrrha's chin.

It took every bit of willpower Cards had in her to not immediately melt against the redhead and just forget about everything and everyone around her. To not give in and enjoy someone else's warmth.

She was weak. Pathetic. A child. Hunters didn't need coddling. They dusted themselves off and shouldered whatever burdens were laid upon them with a shrug and a stoic mask if they couldn't bring themselves to smile.

Mom was right about her.

Reluctantly, she pulled away from Pyrrha's embrace, immediately missing the cozy warmth flowing off her body.

"Thanks," Cards murmured, stepping away from the taller girl so that she didn't immediately fly back into her arms. Another forced smile, this time without the lip tugging. "But I'll be okay. I was just having a moment. I get those sometimes."

Pyrrha looked… less than convinced, but didn't push it much further than that. "O-oh, okay. I'm sorry, I hope I didn't cause you any sort of discomfort."

"No no," Cards immediately assuaged, frantically gesturing with her hands. "You didn't do anything wrong at all! My emotions just flare up sometimes out of, like, nowhere. I think it runs in the family." It didn't. Well, not on her mom's side.

It seemed to work. A little bit, at least. It didn't stop the taller girl from giving a slight bow. Cards' head spun on her neck, praying she didn't catch any prying eyes.

"No, please, come on," Cards whined, pushing up on Pyrrha's shoulders as if to physically force her back to a 180° angle. "Please don't do that." Someone was going to walk in on them and assume something had gone horribly wrong and that it was all her fault. She just knew it.

Things had, once again, gotten unbearably quiet after that. The two wandered the halls some more. It wasn't as bad as before, but Cards now felt like the onus was on her to defibrillate the conversation.

Yeah, maybe she ought to flip the script? Help someone else out for a change. It was the least she could do to pay Pyrrha back. "Soooo, what's on your mind?" she asked, breaking the silence between them. "I mean, sorry, I don't wanna stick my nose anywhere it's not wanted or anything, but… you know?"

She wasn't sure how exactly she was supposed to broach the subject regarding the late Jack. Hey, your partner's dead, sorry! Hope you get over it soon!

Thankfully, Pyrrha seemed to grasp what Cards was driving at so she didn't have to spell it out.

"You're talking about Jack," she said. Said. No room for interpretation. Just straight to the point. Her face furrowed, like watching someone dip chocolate chip cookies in ketchup. "Do you… think he's dead?"

Cards winced. She didn't want to say it out loud, even if she'd already admitted it to herself. It wasn't like she had a reason to deny it, like Pyrrha did. So, with lip-gnawing hesitance, she nodded.

Her walking partner's face didn't really change that much. It maybe got a bit more steely, like she was concentrating on something. Cards was grateful she didn't seem angry, but the renewed silence was going to give her an ulcer.

Then, "I don't think he is."

Huh?

"Huh?"

Pyrrha shook her head, expression shifting to a hesitant grimace. "Jack's too… selfish," she said, almost like it stung to say. "I don't think it's actually possible for him to sacrifice anything for someone else's sake, let alone his life."

Cards opened her mouth. Closed it. It was obvious the partnership was kind of rocky, like hers and Cielo, but… wow.

"You've got a mighty high opinion of your partner, don't you?" She only needed to hear the words vibrating in her ears to realize she'd just said that out loud. "I-I-I mean, no! That's not—! I mean I wasn't trying to—!" Near a dozen half-worded apologies disappeared into light puffs of breath as Cards scrambled to eat her own words.

A light hand on her shoulders calmed her down just enough to close her mouth.

"It's alright, Cards," Pyrrha soothed. She cradled her arms, massaging her triceps. "I know it's a bit of a… harsh assertion to make about my own partner. And I'm sure he probably does care in his own weird way. Like over-using terms of endearment and the like. I don't think he's bad, per se. Just trouble."

Cards thought about her own partner. She didn't think the nicknaming was coming from a place of affection. At least, the opposite was true with Cielo. Again, she didn't know Jack that much. And to be honest, her own partner was kind of a stranger. Same with Pyrrha. It'd only been a couple of days and some change, so they didn't have a lot to go off of aside from some really lengthy first impressions. Maybe she was thinking too hard about it?

"I see," was all she had to say. Then, "So wait a minute. You think he's still alive?"

"It might sound crazy, but yes, I do," Pyrrha said as they turned a sharp corner. She seemed to be on autopilot as they walked down a flight of stairs. "Something's just… not right. Do you remember seeing any targeting flares?"

Cards shook her head. "It was pretty hectic back there. About half the things going on in my face are still kind of a blur." And those sirens. That voice—her mom's voice. Why?

"I didn't see any flares before or during the siege. You would think Miss de Scavi might have brought them up earlier, right?"

A shrug. "Maybe. The Valite Rangers were there before us, so they might have left some around before they took off and Miss Coraline was just too rattled to remember. I know I was."

Pyrrha deflated, breath almost visibly rushing from between her pursed lips. "I can't deny that's a possibility. But I still don't remember any of the archaeologists or any of us lighting any flares. And I just don't see how Jack could have gotten his hands on any with that tidal wave coming down on him."

If Cards was being honest, this wasn't something she was at all prepared to discuss. She was too tired to think about anything beyond her own fuck ups, really. Although Pyrrha seemed to be using her more as a board to knock her own thoughts off of rather than a conversational partner.

A deep, drawn out sigh. "Sorry," Pyrrha said. "I'm sure you have other problems on your mind without my paranoid conspiracies dragging you down any further."

"Huh?" Damn it, was it showing on her face? It was almost like her parents had named her entirely as a joke. "No no, it's not that! I'm just at a loss for words. It's a lot to take in after all that's happened, is all."

"It's okay, Cards." It sounded way too exhausted for Cards' comfort. They stopped in front of a large set of double doors. Ones that led outside. She placed her hand on the handle and pulled slightly, like she were trying to convince Cards to not tag along. "I can tell this doesn't come very easily to you, so I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay."

Cards chewed her lower lip and averted her gaze. She appreciated the concern, but she wasn't exactly trying to broadcast how out of her depth she was. She didn't need pity.

Pyrrha moved away from the door and, once again, laid a hand on Cards' shoulder. "I'll come check on you later, okay? There's something I need to take care off right now."

Cards wanted to offer her help, but she was sure she'd somehow get in the way. Like she always did.

So she gave a half nod. She was too tired to go any deeper anyway.

"Yeah, I understand."

Pyrrha smiled before disappearing behind the doors and into the smokey outdoors. Cards just stood there, unsure if she was supposed to be feeling any better or worse. She settled on hungry and dragged her feet to the cafeteria. The best thing she had learned about Beacon was that it basically served breakfast, lunch, and dinner around the clock. Food was just too good a therapist like that. Maybe that was it? She hadn't eaten since before they took off for Forever Fall. A quick bite and she'd be good as new.

She wasn't holding her breath, though.

— 19 —

Indigo: R U evn fucking alive?

Indigo: Stupid asshole

Indigo: If your dead I'm gonna neck you

Jaune held the painkillers in his hand and stared at the soda machine. Crunch Cola, Bucking Bronco, Huntsaide, Juggernog, the list went on. Most of them were energy drinks in some form. The kinds laced with lethal doses of caffeine and sugar, complemented with unpronounceable chemical ingredients on the back.

His finger went to an &mp'd Up Null, only for him to pause. Did he really need this? Want it? Honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted to stay awake. He recalled somewhere that sleep is the most powerful urge on the human body. Greater than hunger or sex. Though, he imagined if Weiss or Ruby's sister asked if he wanted to see how good their clothes looked on the floor, he'd wake right up.

Bzz. His scroll again. Ever since he made the mistake of checking his texts. "Message Read" was the bane of his existence. One neat thing about the Beacon-issued scrolls was they were actually really good models. And if you already had a scroll or service plan, you could data transfer over to the new ones no problem. But that meant, for people like Jaune who stupidly didn't pretend like he didn't have a scroll, that everyone who knew his old number could reach him here.

He decided to down the painkillers with the water fountain.

Bzz.

Jaune wiped his mouth and reluctantly checked the text. Only to remember that Indigo knew he'd read it as soon as the hardlight scroll extended.

Indigo: Beacon is doing a family day to check on u

Indigo: Mom and me are going. Get fukt

Jaune: I'm glad you care, but I'm fine. What's this about a family day?

The reply was instant.

Indigo: Stupid proper grammer using ass bitch

Jaune: Thanks, the verbal abuse makes me feel so much better

Indigo: Mom is terrified dad pretends you don't exists. News from Beacon is all dad

Indigo: *bad

He sighed and started walking. The overflow dorms were decent. And fairly empty, given the only people using them were part of the freshmen class. And a few soldiers on the first floor, but most of the military was either in the airships above to move to proper tents. The whole thing smelled of a fresh coating of antibac mixed with old ferrocrete. Efficient, but far from cozy.

As Jaune understood it, these dorms served mostly to house students and guests for the Vytal tournament. You could book a hotel if you wanted to in the city, and many did, but many visiting students didn't have the money (or foresight) to book those. So Beacon offered them rooms here.

Jaune paused in the hallway, idly bending at his scroll until the hardlight broke. It put the scroll into rest mode. He pressed the button, and the transparent blue light reemerged. Indigo's message was there, front and center. Jaune really didn't know how to respond to his big sister. He put the hardlight into his mouth and bent it against his teeth til it was back in rest mode. Just a stupid chldish habit.

He had no idea how to talk to his family about Beacon, Grimm, or Huntsmen. The only one whom he could relate it to was his father. But Julius "Rocheux" Arc wasn't one to talk about his time as a Hunter. He still remembers the cold look in Dad's gray eyes when he found Jaune that one night outside, training to use Crocea Mors. The flat "Go home, boy" he'd said. "You don't want this life, boy."

Always "boy." Never even son. And certainly not Jaune. Just boy. Sometimes Jaune wondered if Dad knew his name.

The side of his face hurt. Jaune wasn't sure it was from the attack yesterday, or a phantom from his father breaking his cheek.

He'd left home on a lie. Came to Beacon on a lie. As much as he hated his other sister Saffron for just up and leaving home, he couldn't help but bitterly understand it. But unlike her, who ran away from her problems to Mistral of all places, Jaune headed straight for problems. Straight into danger like a hero.

Just like how he was heroically not replying to Indigo's texts. Because Jaune was a Huntsman (in training). The definition of a badass hero. The kind of man who totally wasn't afraid to ask for extra ketchup at the drive thru. No sir.

Jaune bit his scroll again.

He knew where he'd walk off to. Another one of the temporary dorms. The one he knew Ruby was lodged into after being discharged from the campus infirmary. He slid the scroll into his pocket and just stared at the door. Ruby Rose. The short, kinda weird girl with the scythe. She'd been conscious on most of the flight back to Beacon, but just collapsed before the airship landed. Completely manic the entire time, fretting over her weapon. If you could call incoherent rambling, sceaming, and a lot of frustrating crying "fretting."

Jaune couldn't exactly relate. His own weapon remained sheathed with his shield to his arm. He still barely thought of it as his. It was his father's sword, the unpronounceable Crocea Mors. He'd seen it spelled and heard it said a dozen different ways. But that's how you knew the weapon was a classic. Modern Huntsmen long ago learned that giving your weapon a name in a dead language was actually pretty cringey. Or so his father once joked.

Also he'd stolen it from above the fireplace before running off to Beacon, but that was beside the point.

He raised a hand to knock on the door, and stopped. He remembered Ruby's sister, Yang. Ruby hadn't been able to explain things, and Yang hadn't been in the mood for hearing excuses in any case. He had very little doubts that Yang had to be in there if Ruby was. While his scroll claimed he had a full aura (whatever that meant. How did it even measure that?), he doubted it'd withstand Yang.

When she got angry, her hair actually became a fire. Like, a literal fire. You don't fuck with that. Like how you don't fuck with bees.

His hand fell limply to his side. As much as he wanted to talk to Ruby, maybe apologize or something, it wasn't worth Yang. Ruby would be fine without him. Yeah.

He half-expected Ruby to open the door as soon as he turned away, inevitably ushering him into the life of an academy rom-com protagonist. But she didn't, and Jaune didn't begin a path towards a harem of superpowered girls.

"Çies, man," Chloe Weaver said. He'd recognize her from the accent alone. "Ya really just gonna let the stompie go?"

Jaune turned slowly and blinked. She was leaning against a far wall, playing with her long braid of brown hair. Wearing a tank top and sweatpants. "I agree," he said mildly. "Those were words."

"Ja, and just watching you angst in your kop there is sucking a hole in my dome!"

"Why are you talking like that?"

Chloe shrugged. "I'm trying to sound more exotic. Find my niche. Boys like the cute girl with the exotic accent," she said, her normal accent remaining. Normal for Chloe, at least. Which really didn't mean much. "Trying to throw as many kitschy old country slang words in as I can."

"I thought you tried saying I had the accent, not you."

"My worldview is incredibly flexible, Jaune," she said, walking up to him and patting him on the cheek.

"Just like your tongue, and your morals?" he asked, pushing her hand away.

Chloe winked, hands on her hips. "Need a demonstration?"

For a moment, he entertained the idea that Chloe was flirting with him. His second most powerful urge after sleeping poked him to see where that line of discussion went. But, Jaune knew better than that. That was just how Chloe talked. He wouldn't want to risk their, uh, friendship, he guessed, by taking it seriously. Didn't want to make things awkward. Plus, he wasn't sure he could even like Chloe that way. It'd just be weird.

"I can imagine, so no," he said, fingering his shield.

She scoffed, slapping a hand to her breast. "Have you been taking showers without my consent!"

He shook his head and started walking, gesturing for her to follow. He didn't want to have this conversation outside Ruby's room. "I'm not a girl; you can't barricade me from the showers."

"Meeeeeaning," she said, strolling beside him, hands behind her back, "if you were a girl you'd join me in the shower?"

He tried not to picture that. Failed. Felt disgusted with himself (mostly because his image of himself as a girl was just Indigo). And rallied for a counterattack. "Please. That sounds painful."

Chloe gives him a lopsided smile. "I know they say it's supposed to hurt the first time, but I promise I'm not my uncle."

Just another Chloe-ism.

"No, like on a spiritual level. Nothing turns me off more than a girl who actually likes me. I just can't abide someone who's that bad a judge of character."

She snorted. "Gotcha. I'll write slashfic of you and Jack."

"Nah, I don't like the incest vibes there," he said. "He's got the same first name as my big sister. Or, well, my youngest big sister."

"See, you say that," she said knowingly, "but my bro-cest Ultranatural fic is my most popular work yet."

They found themselves in the breakroom Jaune had been in only minutes prior. The cheap antibac scent burned his nose all over again. "Y'know, I was just thinking that those 1600mgs of ibuprofen were starting to work. Thanks for undoing all that."

"That much?" she asked, tilting her head. "Y'know that's dangerous, right?"

"Eh, I consider myself something for an artist," he said, stretching his arms over his head. "And liver damage is my art."

"Funny. I thought your art was bad taste in fashion." She gestured to him.

To be fair, while Chloe was wearing comfortable clothes, Jaune was still dressed as himself. Jeans, shield, and all. Chloe wasn't even armed. "It's called streetwear and it's the next big thing."

"Big thing?" she asked innocently before slapping herself on the ass. Chloe flashed him a smile when she saw he hadn't looked away. "Nah. Just be like me, rocking joggers and thong pair."

Jaune did a doubletake, which got Chloe grinning to no end. It took him a moment to realize she was talking about her flip-flops, not underwear. Chloe knew what she was doing. He just glowered at her.

"What, you jelly? I'm calling it comfywear," she said, hooking a thumb into her waistband. "You just wear comfy shit and look mildly homeless."

"Guessing the homeless part is not shaving your legs?" he asked.

Chloe hissed in a breath. "Don't you be talking shit, hottentot!" She reached down to pull up her joggers. "I am flawless, ya hear? Flaw-less!" She spat to the side. "Not like that beret girl. Cards, was it? From the B-Team. Takes effort! Hear me?"

He held up his hands and was about to apologize, only to remember that apologizing to a girl is terrible. Not like all the time, but in cases like this. It was okay to make amends for the big things like Sorry I almost got you killed, but a sign of weakness for something interpersonal. Just an observation he'd picked up from his sisters; girls pounced on weakness.

Of course, you didn't want to be an asshole. Girls didn't like assholes. People who said they did were missing the point.

Exactly how he reconciled these two worldviews was anyone's guess. And how you'd even do it, a mystery even to Jaune.

Luckily, he didn't have to figure it out. His scroll buzzed.

"One sec; gotta take this," he said, frantically pulling it out of his pocket. Chloe sucked on her lips and glared at him.

Indigo: Read stuff on HuntsHub. Mom and me coming to the city. Date soon but tbd

Jaune frowned. He could see Chloe reading his text from the other side of the scroll, but it didn't matter. He tabbed to his internet browser. This close to Vale's CCTS tower, he imagined he had some of the fastest mobile internet in the world right now.

HuntsHub, or simply HH, was a popular website, forum, and wiki for all things Huntsmen. You could browse the forums to find discussions on your favorite teams, or just look through the bios of various Hunters. Although only the really famous Huntsmen had anything of note on them. Jaune still had an account on the website. In fact, it was the wiki page on his father that had actually taught him the proper spelling of Crocea Mors.

But point in fact, the front page news was all about Beacon Academy, recent disasters, and a recent press statement by Professor Ozpin. He tapped that to read.

"Scroll slower; I'm not good at reading backwards text," Chloe complained.

Jaune collapsed the scroll. "Looks like they're starting classes in a couple days after all."

He did not like Chloe's sudden grin. "No shit! You know what that means, right?"

"That class starts two days closer to my inevitable death?"

"Yes!" she said, punching his shoulder. "But more importantly, we're finally gonna get our sexy schoolboy-and-girl uniforms! Which we'll wear. As we kick peoples' asses and form the most badass team there is!"

Yet all Jaune could think about was finally having something to change into so he could do laundry

a/n: JoJo once said he hated how similar Cards and Jaune are at times, in terms of role and even some of their backstory. Personally, I think this just makes for a great contrast between the two. They're similar in ways which highlight and complement their differences, even if so far they've never really interacted with each other but a few insults.

Also fun fact. This and the last chapter were written in a span of two days