Trifa strutted around the campus of Beacon Academy with a new lease on life. She was filled to the brim with confidence. She felt uplifted in more ways than one, and it was all thanks to Blake. All thanks to the one request she had been allowed for spilling the secret plans that the White Fang had for Mountain Glenn. Not that she knew all that much about the operation, however that wasn't important. She'd upheld her end of the bargain, and thankfully Blake had too.

Trifa was the proud owner of a new purple bra.

Well, previously used, but at least clean.

She never knew how much impact some straps and a pair of cups could make, but as it turned out it was the little things in life which were the most valuable. Not that she considered herself little, and Blake's bra fit quite comfortably around her now protected and well-supported girls. Hopefully though her normal leather would be clean soon, and she would be able to rid herself of this scandalous school girl uniform.

Be rid of this school period.

As Trifa walked through the campus, she was finally able to take in all the sights and sounds of the place on her own. With no pressure to carry out a mission, no fleeing for her life with a bullet in her shoulder, and most importantly no darkness to hide the place, she saw what she was dealing with.

It was paradise.

Nothing like the hovels she and her former White Fang compatriots infested like rats. Nothing like the cramped and humid isle of Menagerie. There were trees. Open space. A giant statue of two heroes of old conquering the Grimm. A library. Cafeteria. Training rooms. Beacon Academy had everything a person could ever dream of wanting.

She had nothing. Truthfully the only thing Trifa had to her name which wasn't thousands of miles away in Menagerie was a beat up leather body suit and a bartered-for bra. It… hurt to think about. How these kids here had so much and she had so little. How Jaune had so much. So many friends. So many people to count on. She had one.

Not that she didn't value her one friend. Jaune had done so much for her. He'd looked the other way after she broke into his room. He'd saved her life. He'd given her clean clothes to wear. What had she done for him on the other hand? Insulted him. Scorned him. Accused him of terrible thoughts and motives. All because he was human. Was she really any different than those the White Fang fought against? When hate bred yet more hate, was anything good ever accomplished?

No. The answer was a hard no. It had taken her a while to figure out. It had taken the betrayal she'd suffered at the hands of her former comrades as well as a random human's kindness and generosity, but she knew the truth now. The White Fang way was not the right way. Hatred and violence would only lead to more. Those who were formerly for the faunus might be turned against them due to the actions of a few extremists. All the White Fang would do was perpetuate this undeclared war.

"I'll have to find some way to thank him," she sighed to herself as she continued on her way back to the dormitory. She didn't know how she was going to do that. She didn't even know what she was going to do with herself once she got her own clothes back, but she knew she couldn't stay here. She didn't belong. Jaune didn't need the burden of hiding her either. He'd already done enough for her. More than she'd ever be able to repay him for. At least not without offering up her body to him.

She shook her head. That was an old and outdated stereotype, the faunus slave woman offering herself up to her human master in order to gain his favor. No, she was no slave, and he was no master. He wouldn't take her up on her offer anyway, even if she did give him the opportunity. Even if he was a teenage boy. Not only was Jaune too kind of a person to do such a thing, but he probably wouldn't know what to do with a girl if she came up and sat on his lap naked.

Trifa smirked at his imagined plight. It was almost worth doing just that in order to see his panicked face and hear his stuttering words.

The sight of a tall, and Trifa meant tall adult woman strutting her way made her heart skip. This was no student, and here on campus it was certainly no random passerby. No, this big blonde woman was faculty of some sort. Someone who would be familiar with all of the students who attended this academy. With Trifa's rather unique gray hands, she knew she would stand out like a big gray sore thumb. Once the woman started questioning who she was and why she was wearing a Beacon Academy uniform, the jig would be up. The truth would come out.

She would go down, and possibly Jaune with her.

Turning around and walking away as quickly yet casually as possible, Trifa sought cover. She knew that running would only draw attention to herself, but if she simply changed courses and made it seem natural, the teacher maybe wouldn't follow her. All she had to do was find some corner to turn and then use her webbing to scale the wall. If she could escape the Beacon faculty member, she would simply hide on a roof until the coast was clear. Maybe even until darkness fell once more.

Slamming herself against the wall of the nearest building, Trifa looked up to see how high it went. The first of several closed windows was directly above her, and she saw that it was about four stories tall. Well, she'd used her webbing to scale one of Beacon's dorm buildings before in order to get to Jaune's room. Twice, in fact, and once while wounded. This should be a breeze, right?

Except for the telltale clicking of heels on pavement… Trifa knew that even if she did scale the wall, it was only seconds until that teacher turned the corner to see her doing just that. This was bad. So very bad. She was done for. Caught. Exposed. Arrested. Executed for terrorism! Trifa's heart was racing in her chest as fight or flight reactions kicked in. Maybe if she could just spray the teacher in her webbing before running off…

The sound of the window opening up above her earned her attention, and Trifa looked up to see a familiar ginger girl stick her head out. One of her arms came next. "Come with me if you want to live!"

The gravity of the words was lost on her, and in a heartbeat Trifa reached out with her own arm and jumped up in order to find purchase on the other girl's. Once securely in her grasp, Trifa was pulled up with astounding strength and speed, a tiny yelp escaping her lips as Jaune's teammate pulled her up and through the window. She crashed unceremoniously atop the redhead, and it was clear that the move had been born out of panic and necessity rather than good and proper planning.

"Ow…" the girl groaned, even as Trifa found herself lying atop her. "That could have went better."

Trifa grimaced, but forced herself off the other girl, rolling to the side before sitting up. She winced, rubbing her stocking-clad knees which had hit the floor hard when she crashed down on it.

"You good?" she asked Trifa.

Glancing over at the redhead, Trifa saw that she was no worse for wear. She was already getting back on her feet, and even offered Trifa a hand up herself.

"Yeah," she confirmed. The faunus girl took it reluctantly, and with force that shouldn't have surprised her after just being pulled up through a window, was yanked to her feet. "Shit!" Trifa exclaimed with sudden shock.

Trifa stood a few inches taller than the girl, but after such a display of power she felt woefully outmatched by the huntress in training.

"So yeah, hi, my name's Nora," the ginger said, shaking Trifa's hand which she'd never let go of after pulling her up to her feet. "Nice to actually meet you after, well, you know."

Trifa frowned even as Nora wildly shook her whole arm in her hand. "Know what?"

Nora stopped, finally releasing the gray hand she squeezed down on with surprisingly no hesitation or revulsion. "Well, um, you know. You're not Jaune's girlfriend. Or hooker. You're actually a terrorist, but you're not a terrorist anymore. I really don't know what to call you. Except like, your name and stuff. But like, what you are, what you do…"

It had only been a day, but it felt to Trifa like she shared a long and sordid history with Jaune's friends. After being caught in so many compromising positions with the boy, it was only natural they had certain pre-conceived notions about her. Perhaps being labeled as a terrorist was the kindest of them. It was after all the only truthful one.

"We're…" Trifa hesitated, recalling what Jaune had said to her before. "Friends," she said with a warmth both in the word and inside of her.

"With benefits?" Nora asked.

Cobalt eyes lit up at the accusation. "No!" she protested.

"Oh, well, okay. Because you know all the stuff that we caught you doing together…"

Gray hands rose before her chest, and Trifa shook her head wildly. "No, no, no. You didn't catch us doing anything. Everything you people saw has a logical explanation, okay?"

Nora shrugged, and Trifa could tell by her face that she still didn't believe the words to be entirely true. Well screw Nora and what she thought, even if she did just save her from the approaching teacher. Who was she to judge her? She knew nothing about the truth.

"So, wanna go back to see Jaune?"

Trifa nodded. That would be a great way to escape this awkward conversation. "I'd appreciate that."

"Miss him?"

Trifa's eyes hardened as they bored into Nora. To her credit, Jaune's teammate showed no fear. No huntsman here likely would.

"If I said yes would you shut up about it?"

"Admitting you have a problem is the first step to overcoming it," Nora smirked. "And I can tell you've got quite a problem."

A scoff slipped through Trifa's lips. "And that is?"

Nora's grin widened. "That you're sweet on mah leadah!" she said annoyingly. Trifa had no idea that someone butchering language could be so infuriating, but Jaune's teammate was living proof of it.

"You should have just left me out there to get arrested," the faunus snarled under her breath as she pushed past her rescuer.

"Aww but then Jaune would only get to see you for conjugal visits!"

Trifa stopped in her tracks and spun around to see Nora still grinning at her. If this was her idea of a joke it wasn't funny.

"Just… just take me back to him," she sighed with annoyance.

Nora skipped past her, humming some sort of happy tune as she took the lead. Turning her head around, Trifa saw that Nora was still beaming as she encouraged the other girl to follow. "Your wish is my command~" she sang, leaving the empty classroom and leading her down the hallway.

At least everything was finally sorted out. Life would be able to get back to normal. That was of course once he could find a place for his terrorist friend. Former terrorist friend.

Nora had messaged Jaune, claiming that she'd found Trifa on her own about to be found out by Professor Goodwitch. She'd saved the faunus girl, and was bringing her back to him now. From there… Jaune didn't know what he was going to do. Now that she'd spoken to Blake, she would need to speak to Weiss in order to clear the air if she wanted to stay here.

Then again, did she want to stay here? More importantly, could she stay here after nearly having a run-in with a Beacon professor?

Jaune saw the pair of girls as they moved swiftly through the courtyard, and to anyone else it might have looked like a pair of friends taking a brisk stroll around the campus. Both wore uniforms. Both were of the appropriate age. However, one of them was woefully out of place here.

Trifa pulled ahead, using her slightly longer legs to outpace Nora as she hurriedly approached Jaune. There was desperation in those cobalt eyes of hers. "Jaune. We need to leave," she insisted.

His eyes narrowed in concern. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

She shook her head. "No. We just need to leave. Now. Please."

If she felt like she might have been in danger here, Jaune wasn't about to argue with her. Instead his eyes focused past her and onto Nora, trying to silently get some sort of explanation for Trifa's sudden desire to leave what had become a little safe haven for her.

One of Nora's hands came up, and she began to wave at him creepily, all the while a devious smirk spreading across her lips. He didn't know what that was about. He didn't want to know either.

Nodding to Trifa, he turned around and motioned for her to follow. "I don't know what Nora said to you, but I think you're right about getting out of here for now."

"For now," she echoed. "Yeah, no, I don't think I'm coming back. I just need my other clothes and I'm good."

Jaune hummed. Her leather bodysuit had been successfully cleaned and was currently in his dorm. They'd make a pit stop before heading over to the air ship dock.

"So where do you want to go?" he asked as they walked. "Do you have a place to stay?"

Trifa shook her head. "No."

"Oh." Jaune frowned, trying to think of where to steer this conversation next. "Do you have a job?"

"Being a terrorist was kind of a fulltime job."

He winced, sucking a sharp breath in through his teeth. "Right, right. Um, maybe that should be the first step then if you want to start a new life here in Vale."

"Right, because I'm sure the girl with the leather bodysuit and the school girl uniform is going to be able to land a job," Trifa remarked sardonically. "Actually I take that back. There's only one kind of job I'll be able to get in those getups, and I'm not too keen on applying for it."

It took Jaune a moment, but the kind of job Trifa was referring to finally clicked in his brain. His eyes widened, and he turned to see that his new friend wore an annoyed expression on her face. Hardly unusual for Trifa.

"Whoa, wait, no," he insisted, grabbing her by the wrist as if he was trying to stop her from going through with the idea. "You can't do that. We'll find another way."

Her head turned, eyes flicking down to regard her wrist being held by him for a moment before coming up to stare into his own. "I wasn't actually considering it," she snapped, tugging her hand away from his. "Dumbass," she followed up under her breath.

Scorn from Trifa was nothing new, so Jaune was glad to get it from her. Especially if it meant her telling him she wasn't about to become a stripper or a whore. It would have been horribly ironic if all his friend's misunderstandings about the girl had wound up becoming true…

An idea lit up in Jaune's mind, causing his head to snap up and excitement to grow in his heart. "I've got it!" he declared.

"Got what?"

"What we can do," he continued. "You want to get out of here, so we'll go down to Vale and get you some new clothes." He altered his course, and instead of going back to the dormitory they were making a beeline straight for the air ship platforms. "Real actual clothes instead of this. Not that the Beacon uniform doesn't look good on you or anything, but like you said, you need some actual clothes if you want to live a normal life. Get a job. All that good stuff."

Trifa snorted harshly as she kept pace with him. She didn't sound too enthused. "You know that's a great plan and all, but in case you've forgotten I don't exactly have any money on me. Unless we want to go back to the one job I could possibly get in order to earn some money to dig myself out of this hole I'm in."

Jaune shook his head immediately at her bringing up selling her body once more. "It's fine," he insisted. "It's my treat."

"Oh for fuck's sake…" she breathed.

"What?"

Gray hands came up in anger and frustration before falling back to her sides. Trifa shook her head in disbelief, tilting up to look at the sky for a brief moment before falling back down. "I'm tired of being indebted to you," she whispered harshly. Wearily. "Do you know what it's like to be such a burden? To have people constantly pulling your ass out of the fire and saving you, and you giving them nothing in return?"

The words hit Jaune like a truck. In an instant his eyes, and his voice, hardened. "Yes."

It clearly wasn't the answer Trifa had been expecting, and she turned to eye him curiously. "What?"

"Yes, I know exactly what it's like," he continued, his demeanor changing entirely. "To be useless. Worthless. To have my friends having to constantly save me from danger. Knowing that the only reason I'm even alive is because someone took pity on me and decided to help me every step of the way."

He felt her eyes staring at him even as he looked straight ahead. As his mind focused not on the path ahead of him, but rather the emotions churning inside of him.

"Jaune?" she questioned.

"Unlocking my Aura. Training me. Helping me study." Jaune laughed humorlessly as he recalled all the things Pyrrha had done for him. "I'm a total failure, Trifa. I'm a loser who doesn't even belong in Beacon. The only reason I'm here is because I've had better and stronger people all around me to hold my hand."

Memories flashed in his mind. Flailing through the air only to get pinned to a tree by a stranger's spear. Having that stranger rescue him and teach him about Aura. Being all but helpless to stop himself from being bullied by a classmate, and only finally standing up for himself when Pyrrha had been put in danger. He'd needed help from Pyrrha and Ruby in order to get to that point. Without his friends he would be nothing. He'd be less than nothing.

He'd be dead.

Jaune was only broken from his internal sulking when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw Trifa's concerned eyes staring up into his. "Hey, you're not worthless," she said softly, all her earlier annoyance and sarcasm gone in a flash. "If it wasn't for you I don't know where I'd be right now. Jail. Dead. Who knows. But you're definitely not worthless." Teeth sank lightly into her lip before she continued. "At least not in my eyes."

The genuineness in both her face and her tone were rarities when coming from Trifa. Usually the former terrorist was all snark, especially when it came to him. To see her being so honest about his positive qualities when he was down on himself was… uplifting.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"Seriously," she pressed. "Who else would do all the stuff you're doing for a girl who threatened to kill him and kidnap his friend? You're either the nicest guy in the world…" she trailed off.

In an instant Jaune knew what the other half of Trifa's statement could be. "Or the dumbest," he finished for her.

"Well I don't think you're dumb. Or at least I shouldn't after all you've done for me."

He may not have been the sharpest weapon in the huntsman's arsenal, but Jaune didn't think he was the dumbest either. He was a solid C student. Maybe even pushing a B- when Pyrrha was helping him study directly.

"Ah, damn it," she sighed.

"What?"

Another little breath slipped from her lips as she continued. "Now we've gone and made things all touchy-feely. I suck, you suck, we both suck. Or we're both awesome and are just trying to make our way through this crappy world the best we can. Either way, can we just not talk about this stuff anymore?"

Jaune was all for not sulking. Especially not when they were about to head down to Vale for what was supposed to be a fun day. It was supposed to be fun, wasn't it?

"Yeah, sounds good," he agreed. "But getting back on track then, I really don't mind helping you out with the clothes. You're my friend, and I want to see my friends happy. And you'd be happy with some new clothes, right?"

"I don't know whether you're being condescending or sexist, but not all girls get wet in the pants by the idea of going clothes shopping."

Jaune's hands came up to his chest defensively. "Whoa, whoa, that's totally not what I meant!" he insisted. "I meant, like, you'd have something normal to wear! For a job interview! Or just, like, normal living! Because you're not a terrorist or a student, you know? Can't go around wearing just those two outfits."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she sighed. Her face came back up to regard his, and she pointed an accusing finger at him. "Just so you know this isn't going to be like how it is on TV. I'm not your girlfriend. I'm not going to go in and out of the changing room twenty times showing off cute outfits for your approval. I'm going in, I'm picking out some stuff, and we're leaving. No fashion shows. Got it?"

For Jaune this was a welcome idea. Growing up with seven sisters, he'd had more than his fair share of them craving a guy's opinion on clothes. Sometimes that meant showing things off for him at home. Sometimes it meant dragging him out shopping. Often payments were promises of not braiding his hair or making him practice dancing with them.

With Trifa on the other hand, he was receiving no payment. On the contrary, it seemed like he was the one making her go out shopping. However it was a necessary sacrifice. She couldn't very well go the rest of her life wearing a school girl uniform.

"Got it," he agreed. "Just a couple outfits, because you need to be able to go out there and make a living in Vale."

"Right. Because there's no chance I can stay at Beacon. Not when there's…" she shook her head. "Never mind."

Jaune frowned. He had no idea what Nora had said to her, but it was clearly sometimes unpleasant. Perhaps he'd have to have a word with his teammate when this was all over. She couldn't go around Noraing herself to his friends. That would only scare them away. Much like how Trifa was spooked right now.

Operation Get-Trifa-A-Job was on. Clothes would of course just be the first piece of the puzzle. After this they still needed to find a place which would actually hire someone with no credentials and no home. The home part could easily be solved by her just using Jaune's home address. However the lack of job experience could be… challenging.

They'd cross that bridge when they got there. For now Trifa needed something stylish, comfortable, and affordable to wear.

Even if she did look darn good in a plaid skirt and black stockings.

Being a girl sucked. Why couldn't clothes shopping be easy like it was for guys?

There were so many choices. So many styles. So many things which looked good on the surface, only to find out they had some stupid little design choice once you put them on. So many frills. Stupid lettering. No, she did not want her ass to have the word 'juicy' printed on it. She didn't even know what 'bae' meant, but she was sure it was something stupid. What was so wrong about a pair of normal pants and a normal shirt that didn't have a bunch of stupid bells and whistles on it?

Slipping the shirt on over her head, Trifa wondered how her life had come to this. What was the deal with her trying on clothes while Jaune waited outside? First the Beacon uniform, and now this? This would absolutely have to be the last time it happened. She couldn't go through life helpless and depending on Jaune to get her back on her feet every step of the way.

Glancing at herself in the mirror, Trifa nodded in approval of the outfit. Yes, she would get this. It was perfect.

She pulled the dressing room door open and stepped out. "Okay, done," she announced, and Jaune's head came up from looking down on his scroll as he sat and waited.

Glad in some modest black slacks and a gray turtleneck which matched the color of her hair, the only skin showing on Trifa's body was that of her face and her hands. It was perfect. Not a vein in sight.

"Oh, really?" Jaune asked. He sounded genuinely surprised.

"Yeah? Why?"

"I don't know. It's just… well, I didn't expect you to be done so soon. Most girls, well, they try on like ten different outfits before finally choosing one. At least my sisters do."

Trifa frowned. "This is fine," she insisted.

"Is that your job interview outfit?"

She glanced down at the conservative clothing before returning her focus to Jaune. "No. This is just what I'll wear."

"Oh."

"Oh?" she questioned. Along with the frown on her lips, her eyebrows creased downward. "What's 'oh' about this?"

"Nothing!" he rushed. "It's, um, very you. Very… gray."

Trifa could tell he wasn't impressed by her choice in clothing but didn't want to say anything. She glanced down at it again, wondering just what was wrong with it. So what if it was gray? So what if she was gray? She liked gray. Gray was safe and neutral.

"Didn't you want anything else? Something a little less formal?"

If less formal meant big blocky letters sprawled across her ass, then Trifa would pass. "One outfit is fine. Besides, I wouldn't know what else to get."

Trifa knew she wasn't exactly the girly-girl type. No, being a career terrorist meant that her priorities were placed elsewhere. She didn't wear pink. She didn't put on makeup. She had been a soldier. Why bother with any of that trash when you had a war to fight? Practicality trumped style. Grays and blacks helped her blend into the shadows. Bright colors and showing skin would only draw attention. Besides…

Who would ever want to look at her skin?

"I could help," Jaune offered. "Like I said, my sisters would go through tons of outfits. Sometimes they'd drag me along because they wanted a guy's approval. Never mind the fact that to them I'm not a guy, I'm their brother. I'm not about to tell them what they look good in because I sure don't want to think about that kind of thing."

Trifa glanced back down at her turtleneck. No, this was fine. Totally fine. More than fine. He'd already done so much for her, he was already going to buy this outfit. Now he wanted to buy her another?

If this was a movie she would have totally fallen for him by now. Maybe that's why Nora had it in her mind that she already had.

"It wouldn't hurt to at least try something on," he added. "See how you look in it."

The faunus girl sighed. It wasn't like she had anything better to do today, right?

"Fine," she breathed. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well seeing how it's summer, something a little less… suffocating," he said, nodding to the heavy cotton turtleneck that covered her entire torso. "Some jeans to add a little color. They'd go well with your hair and eyes too."

A hand reached out, and Trifa unconsciously touched her hair with her fingers. "They would?"

"Yeah. They're blueish-gray, and I think that denim would help bring out the blue. But not too blue, so maybe the jeans could be a bit more on the light and pale side. Be right back, let me find something."

Jaune went off leaving a confused Trifa standing in his wake. How was he such a better girl than she was? What was all this BS about color coordination and matching her eyes about? Were her eyes really that blue? She'd always thought they were more on the gray side.

Now Jaune… he had blue eyes. Deep, pure, kind of like himself. They said eyes were a window into the soul…

Trifa shook her head. Gods, stop thinking like that, she mentally chastised herself. What, a guy buys you some clothes and you suddenly wanna blow him or something? Get it together, girl.

She stood around waiting for a couple of minutes before Jaune returned. When he did he held the aforementioned blue jeans in his arms, along with a white shirt. He held them out to her with a smile on his face.

"Try these," he offered. "I think I got the sizes right. It's hard to tell without knowing, but you're kinda Saphron-sized."

Trifa didn't know what that meant, but she took the clothes regardless and stepped back into the dressing room.

For all her insistence on this not becoming some lame fashion show, Trifa found herself begrudgingly trying on another new outfit for Jaune's approval. Not that she was doing it specifically for that very reason, but… well, he had picked them out because he believed she would look good in them. Was it so wrong that she wanted that to be the case?

The jeans were a little tight, and Trifa had to struggle in order to button them up. Saphron, whoever she was, was apparently a size smaller than her. The pale blue jeans hugged her thighs tightly, and she could only imagine what they were doing to her butt. Some girls may have liked to try and show off by wearing something three sizes too small for them, but Trifa wasn't one of them.

The top came next, and she became worried when she unfolded the white shirt to find that there wasn't much fabric there. It was a far cry from the turtleneck she'd chosen herself, and as she slid it down over her head she realized that it was in fact way too small. So small in fact that it didn't even reach the waist of her jeans. Stupid Jaune.

That was, until she turned around to look into the mirror. The pale, vein-covered flesh of her belly reflected back to her, and Trifa realized that it was by design. Jaune had chosen a crop top for her. A short-sleeved crop top which thankfully covered up her shoulders and cleavage, but left her arms and stomach woefully exposed for her liking.

Time to see his reaction to it. To everything it showed him.

Opening the door again, Trifa stepped out and expected revulsion from the human. Instead he saw eyebrows rise not in disgust, but shock.

"Wow," he breathed. "That looks…"

"Awful," she finished for him.

"Pretty," he countered.

Pretty? Was he looking at the same skin she was? There was nothing pretty about the literal spider veins crawling up her arms and across her stomach. She'd chosen the turtleneck for a reason. It covered everything. No judgment. No awkward looks or stares. No people getting grossed out by the creepy arachnid faunus.

Trifa found that his eyes weren't on her exposed skin, but rather her own eyes. She watched how Jaune's vision trailed down to her legs before moving back up to her face. He smiled warmly. "I knew it," he continued. "The blue pants help to bring out the color of your eyes."

She looked down again. "They do?"

He nodded. "Yeah. You should totally get that. You'll definitely make heads turn in something like that."

"For all the wrong reasons," she mumbled.

"Huh?"

Was he blind, stupid, or just too nice to say anything? After the short amount of time she'd spent with the guy, Trifa could guess it was the last on the list.

Her hands came down to her hips, where her fingers tapped and pointed at the pronounced veins running along her exposed stomach. "These," she hissed. Her hands moved up to cover their opposite forearms, where she did the same thing with those veins. "These," she repeated. "Can you not see them? Or are you just too nice to say anything about them?"

Jaune's head tilted in confusion. His furrowed brow conveyed the same sentiment. "What about them?"

"They're ugly!" she pressed with frustration. Was he really going to make her say it out loud? "It's one thing to show them off when you're a damn terrorist surrounded by other faunus, but here in Vale? Surrounded by normal people? Normal humans? Do you really think people are just going to not look? Not judge me? Not say I'm…"

"Say you're what?"

Trifa had enough. She snapped, stepping forward and grabbing Jaune by the front of his hoodie, pressing him against the wall. "Ugly!" she yelled.

Jaune was taken aback by the statement. Honestly, Trifa was too. She wasn't used to making a scene in a public place like this, and lucky the dressing area wasn't too populated. If anyone had heard, they weren't coming over to say anything. Maybe they were simply too afraid to get between an irate girl and her male companion while she was trying on clothes.

"They're not ugly," Jaune said softly. "And neither are you."

"Bullshit," she growled.

"You're not," he insisted. He still didn't try to remove her hands from his hoodie. He let himself be pressed up against the wall by her as he spoke. "I mean, those veins are a part of you, right? A part of being faunus?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"So… they're a part of what makes you, you. They make Trifa, Trifa. So they can only be a good thing."

Trifa breathed heavily through her nose as she stared up at the boy. For all the anger that was being directed at him, he seemed calm. More importantly, he seemed genuine. She knew all too well what genuine and kind words from Jaune sounded like.

With an annoyed sigh she released her hold on him and took a step back. She hadn't meant to lose control, but she had. She'd apologize to him for it later. Right now she just wanted to be done with this place.

"I mean we could always get another shirt," he said. "But I think you look really good in it. Rock those veins, Trifa, because they're a part of what makes you who you are. A part of what makes you a really pretty girl."

Eyes snapped back up at him. Jaune smiled embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand.

"Sorry if that sounded weird and all, but, um, you are pretty," he repeated. "And I don't mean that in a kind of, like, flirty way or anything like that. Just… telling it how it is."

Trifa's arms wrapped around her stomach. Not out of the desire to hide her veins from Jaune, but because it suddenly felt cold in here. Why was she shivering? Had the damn AC kicked in or something?

"Fine," she whispered. "Let's get it and leave."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" she insisted, moving back into the room. "Let's get these clothes and leave."

"I'm sorry," Jaune said behind her, and Trifa felt a twinge of guilt bite at her heart. She hadn't meant to come off as hostile. No, this wasn't Jaune's fault. It wasn't his insecurity.

With the door closed Trifa stood staring at herself in the mirror. She turned, giving herself a portrait view of herself in the tight pants she wore. The words 'juicy' may not have been written on her rear end, but it definitely stuck out a little more than usual in these jeans…

"Don't be," she said, turning back and staring at her slender stomach. Her hands roamed across it, tracing the lines of the veins which covered it. "It's fine," she insisted. A soft smile curled up on her lips. She was pretty. The veins helped make her who she was as a person. "I'm fine," she said a little bit warmer.

Author's Note: It took a little longer than expected to update this time, but this is hardly the only story I have to worry about. Especially when ideas for ridiculous, cracky rare pairs enter my brain. And you'd better believe I've got another one on the horizon.

My asking strategy has been very successful so far, and I think it goes without saying you want a chapter 5. You do want a chapter 5, right?

As always, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.