Addicted

By wildstraydog

Chapter One: A Little Push

Jaune felt his face collide in the arena floor. The hard concrete brushed against his cheek and peeled off a small patch of skin. He tumbled forward close to the stands and felt the wind get knocked out of him. Aura healed most of the damage, but his ego was shattered. He tried to get up and struggled to breath, turning around to be met with another fist.

Cardin wasn't even trying anymore, having dropped his weapon on the ground. He grabbed Jaune by his collar and forced him up to meet his disappointed frown. No one was cheering, the room was only filled with an uncomfortable silence of pity. Cardin sighed and smashed his knee into Jaune's stomach and threw him to the ground.

"That's enough." Professor Goodwitch announced.

"Don't have to tell me," Cardin complained.

The blonde-haired instructor released a heavy sigh and pushed up her ovular glasses against the ridge of her tiny nose. She looked down at Jaune's collapsed form and shook her head; his performance was abysmal. It was the second semester and he still had yet to improve beyond what his peers managed. She might need to discuss it with Ozpin.

"Mr. Arc."

Jaune felt a sensation of relief course through his bruised body. The pain still lingered as he peeled himself off the floor, not even bothering to look up and see the disdain on the other students faces. After his constant training with Pyrrha, he was still having difficulty picking up the on the fundamentals. He lagged behind everyone in the school because of his selfish reasons to sneak in with fake transcripts.

Pyrrha was probably disappointed.

"I'm afraid I won't mince words," Professor Goodwitch began. "That display was awful, you opened yourself up to Cardin's predictable movements. By now you should have a handle on basic combat skills, so it baffles me why you continue to embarrass yourself." Jaune's gaze remained on the floor.

"You're better than this, Arc." Cardin berated.

"Mr. Winchester, I don't need your input on this matter, refrain from speaking again." Her furrowed brow sent shivers down the towering student's spine.

Her dismissal went on deaf ears. Jaune left the arena and gathered up Crocea Mors without glancing at his friends. He rushed out of the arena and didn't look back, silently cursing his weakness.

"Pyrrha, wait!" Nora tried to stop her, but Professor Goodwitch butted in.

"Ms. Nikos, I'm glad you volunteered for the next fight, please step down into the arena." The redhead's expression drooped at the sudden volunteer duty.

She wanted to desperately go and run after Jaune, but Professor Goodwitch's stern glare couldn't be fought. Nora patted her back and looked to team RWBY. They were just as conflicted, but the looks of pity were familiar.

Ruby especially appeared hurt.

"Are you coming down, Ms. Nikos?"

"Y-yes, professor." Pyrrha slumped down the steps and headed for the locker room.

Jaune kept running until his legs gave out. He fell to his knees in the dormitory hall, panting uncontrollably from the rush of adrenaline. Sweat poured down his face and dripped onto the dull brown carpet—he wiped it away and pounded the floor with his gloved fist.

He was genuinely pathetic... it was a wonder why no one would bother to ask him out to the dance. And what would he do once the Vytal Festival started? He couldn't bear the thought of embarrassing his team in front of millions of people. Pyrrha assured him he would make progress, but it wasn't fast enough, even with his renewed focus.

The sun's piercing rays beamed down on his hunching form through the windows and warmed his back. He clambered to his feet and walked, taking in the beautiful scenery of the courtyard. Professor Goodwitch didn't bother to reprimand him for running out of the class, she probably lost hope; at least she wouldn't call on him anymore to get his ass beat.

Jaune stopped at one of the windows and leaned against the glass. There by the fountain, was the picturesque statue of his ancestor, proudly standing with a sword unsheathed, the epitome of what true hero looked like. If they could see him now... he was a laughing stock.

"Hey loser!" He turned to find the source of the voice and was and pushed against the window.

He rubbed his forehead and peered down the hall to see two male students laughing. So his reputation couldn't get worst, he was a bigger joke now than when he started the first semester. Instead of heading for his dorm, Jaune made his way down to the front of the academy.

It was more comforting to mope alone than force his friends to experience it. Pyrrha would continual encourage him to resume his training, but after that beating he didn't have the will to keep going. And what did the members of RWBY think of him—Weiss was probably glad he didn't have the guts to continue his advances.

She was plenty happy with Neptune...

How did it all get this way? After the dance, he felt on top of the world, like he could tackle any Grimm singlehandedly. He managed to kill an Ursa during the Breach in Vale! Perhaps it was wishful thinking and he just got lucky. God, he hated pity more than anything

There was a nice little spot at the back of the academy near the cafeteria, a lush garden one of the local clubs tended to during the week. Ren had shown him the spot when he was getting bullied by Cardin, he called it a, "meditation spot". It was good advice, the combination of soothing aromas settled him down and brought him some peace.

He ran his fingers through a bed of dahlias, appreciating the bright colors each petal displayed. It was cliché, but he would have enjoyed watering these flowers under the blaring heat of the summer. The flicking light of the sun and the familiar textures of the petals he brushed his fingers against reminded him of their farm.

Saphron being the oldest, it rested on her shoulders to manage all of them, relaying different chores across the fields and house so his sickly mom wouldn't have to worry. Despite each sister's annoying tendencies, he longed for those days where their heartfelt smiles warmed his heart.

Maybe it was a mistake to run away...

There was another hour left or so before Professor Goodwitch's class let out. Jaune was confident he could stumble his way through the courtyard and lounge about the school. He just wanted to be alone.

Jaune looked back at the garden and sniveled, thinking back fondly at how perfect the flowers exemplified their simple beauty. He wiped his face of the blood and tears and exited the garden, tensing up with each step. The few exchange students from the other schools walking by shot him curious glances but minded their own business.

Hours passed, and Jaune did his best to stay out of sight. He rested in one of the student centers and then wandered the library browsing the various texts collecting dust on the shelves. He flipped through an illustrative book on Grimm that piqued his interest, but eventually he grew bored. Jaune had wasted most of the day away shooting longing gazes at the dipping sun. He set his scroll to vibrate hours ago, ignoring the mass texts from Pyrrha and Ruby.

Maybe it was curiosity or self-loathing, but Jaune found the need to visit the practice room. He walked down the long hallways as night approached and maintained his gaze on the floor, unable to bear the looks of pity. By now everyone in the school knew how weak he was.

When he reached the room, the entrance looked intimidating. Jaune felt every time he passed through the doors, another loss awaited him. He took a deep breath and walked forward—the silence he expected was replaced by the sound of metal pieces dropping to the floor with a crunch. Inside, Jaune glanced down to see a figure making short work of the practice drones. Machinery smashed to pieces and wires flew about the ground, dropping in puddles of oil. He walked down the steps to get a closer look, and found his breath hitch.

She was a visage of elegance.

The nimble girl wore a bright red mini dress with intricate yellow designs along the sleeves and collar. Along her curvy hips, a blue feather-like accessory hung gently, and beneath her dress she wore black shorts. A black choker fit snugly around her pale slender neck and alabaster skin, and her creamy shoulders were left open as the back of the dress ended in a keyhole shape, exposing her sweaty back.

None of the girl's attire did justice to her delicate features. Her cocky grin was highlighted by red lipstick, while the girl's mesmerizing amber eyes scanned the floor behind dainty eyelashes lined with violet eyeshadow. Jaune was awestruck by her cascading ashen-black hair that ran down to her bare shoulders and bounced with her movements.

He found himself dazzled by the performance, taking a seat near the front row to watch. She quickly disposed of another set of drones that entered the arena, jumping back and flinging her closed fist backward to cave in a drone behind her. She skidded across the floor—surprisingly in heels—and lifted her right leg to take down another.

The remaining two drones floating in a tight formation to surround her, dropped in seconds as she launched herself off the floor and bisected each one with a quick swipe of her hands. The girl landed and flipped her untouched hair back, admiring the destruction with an unusual gleam in her amber eyes.

She was perfect.

Why couldn't he have that much power or speed? Jaune would have done anything to attain those skills, to show everyone he wasn't just some weakling that followed Pyrrha around like a whipped dog.

In his trance, he forgot to notice the current set was finished, and found the girl staring back at him with an incredulous look. She was forced to look upon a shambled mess, at half a man.

"Enjoy the show?"

Jaune hesitated. "I'm sorry, you were just so... amazing." He realized the poor choice of words and smacked his forehead.

"Oh, amazing how?"

"Uh, well...," Jaune blanched at the sudden question. "You're just, so far above me, it's humbling I guess to see." He cursed at the poor explanation.

The girl crinkled her brow but nodded, and walked over to the bench to grab a towel and wipe away the sweat dripping down her neck.

"I don't like to show off." Her tone carried a finality to it, as if the practice couldn't be debated.

"Again, I didn't mean to intrude—I just wish... never mind." Jaune got up from his seat and turned to leave the arena. He embarrassed himself enough already for one day.

"Cinder Fall," She called out, eyeing him with renewed curiosity.

"Uh, Jaune Arc, but you probably know me better as Pyrrha Niko's partner..." Cinder's dangerous eyes perked up, her alluring beauty giving him chills.

"Oh really, I apologize, those classes bore me." And he knew why now.

"It's okay, I'm not very memorable."

"Tell me, what were you saying early," She opened the flap leading back up the stairs where Jaune stood, her hips sashaying with each carefully placed step. "Something about a wish?" She released a breathy laugh.

Oh, I said that out loud, Jaune thought.

"It's dumb, really, but—seeing you out there, it made me envious, to have strength like that." Cinder hummed at the answer and drew closer; he felt himself sweat under her stare.

"What kind of semblance do you have, Jaune Arc?" She drew out his name with her supple lips.

"I haven't unlocked it yet, but Pyrrha says I have a lot of aura. At this point I've sort of given up, the countless nights of training don't seem to be helping." He didn't mean to sound downtrodden, but saying it out loud made the realization hit harder.

"Hmmm, do you know what they say about semblances?" Cinder strutted past him and rested the towel in her hand softly around her clammy neck.

"Uh, no."

"The saying goes, 'the longer it takes for a person to release their semblance—the more powerful it is.'" He didn't feel strong, far from it.

Jaune released an audible sigh and winced at the pain in his ribs. Cinder noticed, her smirk growing larger—it reminded him of a predator about to swoop in.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but you don't have to try so hard. Everyone in the school knows I suck, it just hurts more knowing I can't do anything about it." Cinder giggled and stole his glance, walking around him to look in his eyes.

"Perhaps I can help you." Jaune scoffed at the notion—what could she do that Pyrrha couldn't? He was a hopeless cause at this point.

Cinder reached into her pockets and drew out a burnt yellow cylindrical object the size of a jellybean. It rolled in the heel of her palm and glinted against the scattered lights in the room.

"What's that—?"

"They call them aura boosters—if you take one, it helps to focus your aura, making you stronger, faster, and to have the stamina to train for hours." She plopped the pill in his calloused hands and grinned.

"But isn't that... cheating?"

She laughed at the notion. "Of course not, you already have a handicap don't you? Call it, evening the playing field." It still felt wrong somehow, but as his eyes upturned with a cursory glance at Cinder's blazing eyes, Jaune was locked into her persuasive gaze.

"I just, don't know."

"Trust me—or do you want everyone to laugh behind your back forever?" He tensed up at the thought.

Jaune threw the pill in the air and forcefully swallowed it with a loud gulp. There was no immediate change, and his aura felt normal.

"The effects won't be instant, why don't you go train?" Jaune looked down at the empty arena and had the sudden urge to fill it up with a mountain of scrap.

"T-thank you, Cinder, if it works, I don't know how to repay you." She pulled out her scroll and displayed a series of numbers on the screen.

"Take my number... I'll be curious to hear the results." Jaune eagerly nodded and added her contact information to his scroll.

He walked down the steps with a wave and entered the arena, rolling his shoulders in preparation. Cinder could only snicker at how easy it was to manipulate the boy—she barely had to make a suggestion. Granted, her charming looks had that effect on eager boys. She needed a test subject, and the first candidate happened to be Pyrrha Niko's partner, one of their targets. How lucky could she be?

All she had to do now, was sit back and watch.