(A/N) Lmao I had some of y'all cheesed last chapter huh. I should do that more often if it doubles my review count every time.

Just jokes.

All in all, I'm pleased with the feedback. It was the first chapter since the first that had any sort of great importance to future events, so I'm glad it went the way that it did.

I won't bother going on about why things went the way they did though. I'll assume that people understand why I had Jaune lose from a narrative perspective. Neutered characters, prematurely resolved plot elements, so on so forth. That said, I'm not trying to dismiss anyone either, so feel free to PM me if you want more details.

But beyond that, I've had a lot of people comment that they're frustrated that Jaune "loses all the time", and that's ringing some alarm bells for me. If someone could clear that up, that would be great, since to my knowledge this is quite literally the first time I've had Jaune fight someone seriously. Are we talking about kid Jaune here? Like when he was learning the sparring rules and stepped out of bounds or something?

Aaaanyway. Winddown chapter delivered (a little on the late side, sorry bout that). Don't expect the following to be the only presented results and consequences of the fight, however. There's a lot more that hasn't been covered in this chapter alone, and some that won't be found out until much (*breathes in* much) later.

Other than that, I was bored and wrote the first bit of the FGO story I proposed. Not sure if I'll post it soon, but not sure if that matters either. I think Parcasious beat me to it about *checks time* two hours ago. Then again, that's not to say that we'd be taking it in the same direction, so hey. There's that. I doubt many Fate stories start with a Jojo's reference anyway.

Please enjoy!

XX

Dorothy stared at Morado for a moment, waiting for him to speak up. When it was clear that nothing would be said, she decided to take the first word.

An amused snort. "Well then, Mory. It looks like I owe Jaune Arc an apology."

Morado smiled. Evidently, he knew this was coming. "Do you, now?"

Dorothy pointed to a graphic up on their display board. It showed the remaining auras of both Jaune Arc and Pyrrha Nikos, side by side, at different minute marks.

At the final minute, the levels were scored at seventeen to fifteen.

"As sure as I was that Nikos would win," she had to slip in, "the fact that it was this close to–"

"If they fought again, I think he'd win."

"Winning… excuse me?" trailed off Dorothy, lifting her eyebrow exaggeratedly to demonstrate a significant portion of her disbelief. "I know you didn't just insinuate that Jaune Arc could pull that off twice– he didn't even pull it off once! He got close, but that's all that was."

Mory rolled his eyes. "Weren't you just about to amend your opinion of him? I'll say it again: I think Jaune Arc would win if he fought Pyrrha Nikos a second time."

She barked, more than laughed. "You're crazy! Look, it was an admirable effort, but even if he got closer than anyone else, ever, he still needed every star in the sky to align for him to even get that far."

"Come, now. You're trying to say he got lucky?"

"Of course."

"If anything, Nikos got lucky."

Dorothy blinked emptily. "You've gone crazy."

"I'm serious!" he smiled, similarly to how an adult would towards a small child. "Look. What was the difference between their aura levels?"

"Two percent."

"Exactly! Two percent. They were evenly matched–"

"Arguable."

"–from beginning to end," he continued without paying mind to the interruption. "What it came down to was who ran out of gas first. Why did Nikos come out on top? Because Arc was caught off guard by her semblance, that's why."

"Everyone was caught off guard by her semblance. No one has ever seen it before!"

"Exactly!" he shouted back with matched enthusiasm, though Dorothy's was lost the moment she realized that she had unwittingly supported his argument. "A semblance that she had evidently never felt the need to use before now. We don't even know what is it yet –though we can speculate it's some sort of powerful telekinesis– but Arc matched it blow for blow. Now that he expects it–"

"You could argue that Arc's semblance is an equal unknown."

"Oh come on. He's from Vales coveted and very much known Arc family. They practically all have the same semblance."

"We don't know that."

"More than we know about Nikos' at least."

"I think you're just trying to cheer for the underdog, here."

"I think you're just–"

XX

Jaune sighed and turned off his scroll once the broadcasters' conversation devolved into a seemingly recurring state of argument. Were all analyst segments like this?

He rolled over in his bed despite the time. He didn't feel like doing much today.

"Jaune!"

It was Garnet calling him from the suite's main living space. He chose to ignore it.

"Jaune, come here!"

…

"I know you can hear me, fuckwit!"

"Garnet!" was his mother's quick snap.

Sigh.

"Coming," he drawled, pulling himself out from under the sheets.

He sat at the edge of the bed for a moment, not moving. He just stared emptily at the closed bedroom door.

He felt unwell.

Not sick, just unwell. No matter how much fun he had yesterday –and it was fun– it still stung to lose the way he had.

He was close, but he didn't find out how close until after the fact. He had to choke down a miffed scoff when Mr. Tai showed him the score sheet.

The worst part is that he was the only one that seemed upset.

His parents congratulated him. Mr. Tai promised to take them all out for dinner tonight for doing so well.

No one expected them to get this far, after all.

Screw that! He expected it. More than that, he expected to actually win.

But he didn't.

He sighed again. Taking a deep breath, he put on a smile.

It would be for his own benefit as much as his family's.

"Coming!" he finally replied.

Regardless, the was a lot of good that came out of it. No matter the end result, he gave it his all and he knew that Pyrrha did the same.

If nothing else, there was that.

Surprisingly, it wasn't six sisters and two parents that he found once he entered the living space. It was six sisters, two parents, and a pair of familiar redheaded women.

"Pyrrha. Thetis. What are you doing here?"

It was a question born from genuine curiosity on his part. Wasn't the final round today? She should be getting ready for her team's match.

"I wanted to thank you for the good fight," the younger one told him. "You were an excellent adversary, and I was hoping that–"

"Don't think that you're gonna win again next time," he told her challengingly before he could properly filter his thoughts.

His sisters hissed at him with varying degrees of scathing remarks. That wasn't how you talked to someone that was trying to be nice, was it?

The rest of what she was going to say was lost. Her eyes widened, and her lips formed a small "o" shape.

Thetis muffled a laugh with her fist.

Pyrrha was able to school her expression soon after. She smiled brightly at him. "Won't I?"

He was about to fire back, but then he remembered to feel embarrassed for acting out like that in the first place. His cheeks reddened. "Erm… sorry. I interrupted you."

Thetis laughed out loud while her daughter shook her head gently.

"No, never mind that. I already have my answer."

…Strange.

"You'll come to watch the final round, won't you?" asked her mother.

He nodded with an eased expression. "Of course."

It was only fair. She beat him, so he owed her at least that much.

XX

The Keii Colosseum was just as packed as it was yesterday, if not more so. Considering there would only be one matchup as opposed to the pair that took place before, that was saying a lot.

Atlas had beaten Vacuo handily, but that was to be expected. Despite their talents, Vacuo didn't have anyone to match the likes of Ciel Soleil, who was supposedly so strong that she'd be elected first overall unanimously were it not for the fact that Pyrrha Nikos was from the same graduating year class.

Not that he actually bore witness to it, since Vale's team left after the loss earlier that day.

The spectators seated all around him jumped to their feet in joy when Arslan Altan defeated her opponent, splitting the score at one to one, while others groaned in disappointment.

It was a strange experience, sitting in the stands. People had different favourites, since the outcome didn't really have anything to do with them.

It was strange again to know that he would be cheering for the very team that beat him.

It wouldn't do for Mistral to boot them from the tournament and not win it all.

To his left, his parents clapped politely with smiles on their faces, while his sisters to his right had reactions ranging from something similar to his parents, all the way to "I get to see the Invincible Girl fight the finals lock match! Cool!"

He could admit that it was a fair point of interest. It would suck if Pyrrha wasn't given the opportunity to win it all because her teammates lost two-oh.

"As Mistral's Sanctum Academy has forced a lock match, both competing teams are asked to prepare for the final fight of the tournament!"

The announcement that came from the loudspeaker threatened to deafen him. While he could barely hear them from the competitor's box, he was now sitting right underneath the sound system–albeit at a good few meters below it.

Just as it was the other day, the crowd's cheers seemed to magnify when Pyrrha came out from the box. It was made all the more apparent to him now that he was part of that crowd. There were raised hands and stomping feet, and the arena itself was so large that he couldn't even make out the features of those on the opposite end of the colosseum.

He took a moment to wonder if his friends and teammates were somewhere here too.

Probably not, he reasoned. They were probably sore over the way things ended for them. Were it any other circumstance, he would probably call it in too.

"Begin!"

Though they had good seats, it was still hard to see the fighters from so far away. Luckily, there were many screens all around them with live broadcasts, chief among them the enormous, four-sided jumbotron that seemed to hover some twenty meters above the middle of the ring.

Down on the floor, the clashing of metal would resonate through your body. At such a distance, it sounded more like a nail poking the side of a tin can– and that was only when it could be heard at all through the ambient noise.

And yet, he still watched with rapt interest.

Less than a minute in, Pyrrha was doing well.

So to say, her opponent wasn't.

The champion's aura level sat comfortably and a slowly-declining ninety-eight percent, while Ciel Soleil had already dropped below the eighty mark, now at seventy-nine percent. Ciel Soleil hadn't even landed a blow yet, so the two percent that Pyrrha had lost was likely a matter of aura loss from physical exertion.

No one seemed even remotely surprised by the fact. Was it expected that Pyrrha Nikos would win every fight easily? Was it expected that Ciel Soleil, for however highly the public thought of her, wouldn't even have an inkling of a chance?

If that were true, it really started to put into perspective how strong the "Invincible Girl" was supposed to be in comparison to everyone else. It would've made him feel better about his own loss were it not such a depressing way of thinking.

How could someone do that? Just assume that no matter what you do, it wouldn't change a damn thing.

If he thought that way, then there wouldn't have been a point in him trying to be a huntsman in the first place.

He shook off his derailed thoughts and brought his focus back to the match.

Forty-four to ninety-six now. The digitized and expanded views of Soleil's contorted expressions showed that she had more than likely fallen into the same dangerous line of thinking. For all that he felt bad for the girl, he almost felt worse for Pyrrha for having to deal with that on a regular basis.

Suddenly, her evident enjoyment of their previous bout shone differently under a new light. He could sympathize, definitely, but it wasn't in his ability to empathize.

Who could, really? It was an extraordinary case for an extraordinary person.

"It's over! Ciel Soleil's aura has hit the red! Mistral wins it all!"

The announcer couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice. As much as Sanctum Academy seemed to be a superpower this year, it was easy to forget that Atlas had won this tournament year after year for the longest time.

Mistral had broken that streak, and brought it home on their own soil.

The stands turned into a mess, but it was a happy mess. Drinks were spilling, and people were smiling from ear to ear.

Jaune's expression was much the same, though it was more wry than happy. His gaze was fixed on the graphic aura display.

Thirteen to ninety-three.

"A little anticlimactic, wouldn't you say?" asked the newly crowned champion's mother.

"A little," he admitted with a shy laugh.

"You would have made a much better matchup today. More entertaining."

The woman's words were harsh. She evidently had little sympathy for the enemy.

"I'm sure Ciel Soleil gave it everything she had," he defended more out of impulse than anything. Despite this, his cheeks reddened from embarrassment as he scratched the back of his head. He never liked to put others down, but it was a flattering comment nonetheless.

In what was a recurring theme, she laughed at him.

"Anyway, Jaune, I'm glad you could all come today." She looked every member of the Arc family in the eye when she said it. "I'll be heading out now, though. Pyrrha's going to be put through a whole arrangement of interviews, and I want to be there for her. I'll be hard for me to get to her once the festivities start?"

"Festivities?" Jade inquired from a few seats down.

The elder Nikos nodded. "Expect street parties for the rest of the night. Maybe even a parade in the morning. This is a big deal for the people here."

She took off with a parting wave, and the Arc family was left to navigate its way out of the building amid countless ecstatic Mistralians.

XX

As they approached the exit, Jaune caught sight of a very recognizable girl standing still as others passed her by.

He excused himself from his family and ran up to her.

"Hey," he greeted.

Ciel Soleil stared him down, nonplussed. "Come to gloat, Jaune Arc? I can't see why you would, since you lost, same as me."

He shook his head. "It was a good fight."

"I don't want your pity either."

"Where's everyone else from Atlas?" he asked, completely ignoring her.

"Back at the hotel, most likely. Our flight is later this evening, so we must pack quickly."

He blinked. "So soon? You're not going to stick around for a while?"

Not that he would be, either. His family was flying back tomorrow night.

"What for?"

"There are plenty of sights to see in Mistral. It's a great place."

"Our business is done here, so we're returning," she replied curtly.

He shivered. As of this moment, Jaune was happy that he didn't go to school in Atlas. Frigid lot, they were.

"I'll leave you to that, then," he told her with a disarming smile. "I hope I get to fight you next time."

He extended his hand, and unsurprisingly, she scoffed at the gesture.

Despite that, she clasped his palm with her own and shook it once. It was cold, just like the rest of her.

She walked off without a word. His smile didn't budge.

He was glad that she appreciated the pep talk.

XX

It was a few hours later that Jaune found himself navigating through legions of celebrating locals and visitors alike as he tried to locate the address sent to him by email.

Mr. Tai had asked them to meet at a restaurant called "The Wallflower", though there was much doubt that anyone could have predicted the severity of the foot traffic on the way. He had been circling the same city block for the past five minutes, but he couldn't find–

Never mind. There it was.

The glowing neon sign was shaped in a very stylized cursive, which was probably why he didn't see it until now. As far as first impressions went, it looked like a really fancy type of place. He was equal parts regretful that he showed up in sweats and incredulous that Mr. Tai of all people would willingly come here.

It kind of clashed with his image of the man, to be honest. Was this really a meal he could afford to cover for half a dozen people?

His worries eased a little once he stepped inside. It was no mom and pop diner, to be sure, but it wasn't a five-star either. There were families at booths, and plenty of open laughs and discourse. It was a little packed, but that was to be expected considering circumstances.

The choice made a little more sense now. It still gave the impression of "celebration meal" while looking like somewhere their teacher could stomach.

"Over here!" a voice called. He caught sight of an arm waving animatedly at him from a long table further out.

It was Ruby. She was flanked by her father and sister, while his other teammates faced them. Mocha sat at the head, but she was more focused on the menu than on him.

He was the last one here, he realized much to his embarrassment.

He waved back with nearly equal vigour and placed himself at the open seat facing Mocha. Their greetings were short, but amicable.

"J-Jaune! You knew about Pyrrha's semblance, right? That's why you took your armour off?"

It was Zhang that started the conversation, however timidly. Evidently, it was a question he had been wanting to ask for a while since it wasn't usual for him to do so.

Jaune nodded. "I knew something wasn't right, so I got rid of it before she could use it against me."

"But you didn't think about how she could use it against you after you took it off?" asked Mocha flatly.

The blond-haired boy scratched his cheek sheepishly. "I didn't think it would be that strong, to be honest."

The brunette sighed. "That's fair, I suppose. Say… what's her semblance, actually? No one actually knows since she's never used it openly like that before."

"Sorry," he apologized quickly, "but I'm not positive myself. I had a feeling it had something to do with my armour, but beyond that… I guess you know how that ended up, huh?"

"Nah, it couldn't be helped," Ruby defended. "Her semblance is way overpowered, anyway. It's awesome that you were so close though!"

His smile thinned the tiniest amount.

"Hm! Mhm!" Amethyst was quick to agree with a pumped fist. "You were seriously incredible out there. I can't imagine anyone winning against that force of nature."

Taka added her two cents. "Yeah! I'll try my best to be as great as you when I become a sixth-year."

Taiyang leaned forward and patted him on the back. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, Jaune. There aren't many people who would be able to pull off what you just did.

The sudden and loud sound of a chair scraping against hardwood cut them off. Yang rubbed her neck awkwardly and walked away.

"Takin' a breather," she offered uselessly.

Silence.

"What was that about?" Ruby asked.

Mocha shrugged.

"I'll go check on her," Jaune offered with a hint of worry in his voice. Was there something on her mind?

XX

He found her not long after, not that it was difficult to do so. She was outside, leaning against the brick wall of the restaurant. The street-goers had to walk around her.

"Yang?"

She didn't answer, so he got closer.

"Can you leave me alone for a bit?" she asked with an apologetic smile, pushing him away once he got in arms reach.

His eyebrows curled in worry. "You can talk to me, you know?"

"Mhm."

"What's wrong?"

"Take a hint, big guy."

"I'm just trying to–"

"Quit it!" she shot back, just short of a yell. She shoved him back with both hands. "I'm fuckin' pissed at you, dude! Just…"

He was frozen still.

"…Ugh. Look. It's stupid, and that's why I wasn't going to say anything. It's not even about you… I mean it is, but–"

She was rambling, probably trying to talk herself out of something. It wasn't working, because she just seemed to get more agitated.

"Is there something I can do?" asked her fellow blonde, ever the king of hint-taking.

"No!" she all but screamed. Passerby gave them a wide berth. "You screwed to pooch, jackass! Everyone's acting like it's no big deal, and so I'm stuck here feeling like a complete and utter bitch because I wanted to fuckin' win!"

She kicked the brick wall next to her in frustration. Evidently, she had been holding it in for a while.

"…So it's about the–"

"Yes, it's about the fucking fight!"

She never had the cleanest tongue, but for her to be swearing like a sailor meant that she was pretty upset.

"We all worked so hard…" she said in a much softer tone. "I did, the others did, you did too! And we're going to pretend that it was supposed to happen this way? Damnit Jaune, you were supposed to win!"

He stared at her, slack-jawed.

The extended moment of silence allowed her to recollect some of her bearings. She sighed and dropped her face into her hands.

"Look. I'm sorry ok?" she told him, her voice muffled. "You don't deserve to be yelled at like that. I'm being a shitty–"

"You think I could've won?"

She didn't answer him at first. Her face stayed down in her palms. Eventually, her tense shoulders dropped into a slump and her fingers ran down her cheeks.

"I was counting on it. What part of 'I'm pissed that you didn't win' do you not understand?"

Despite her miffed expression. Yang felt terrible. She was tearing into her friend viciously because she didn't have any other outlet. Was it his fault? More hers since she was letting it bother her. Did she blame him? Evidently so. Did he deserve any of this? Absolutely not.

He gave it his best.

And yet, it sounded so hollow to say that now.

He probably thought terribly of her now. Maybe she could make it up to him if–

She stiffened like an ice tray in a freezer.

"Wha… wha… wha…" she tried to speak, but all that came out were babbles.

Both of Jaune's arms were wound tightly around her.

"Thanks for believing in me Yang. I won't let you down again."

Every part of her wanted to struggle against the hold. To wriggle, to push away. To do something. Her body wouldn't move.

There would be steam coming out of her ears if her face got any hotter.

"Come. Let's go in," he urged her happily. Why was he happy again?

She wasn't of the frame of mind to tell him that she was still mad.

Dinner time it was, then.

XX

The Arc family got out of the limousine once it came to a stop in front of the airport. Luckily, Jaune remembered to let the driver do his job this time.

He stretched his legs with a satisfied groan. They were stuck in that thing for close to two hours.

Why was it so far away again?

"Gross. Keep your moans to yourself," mocked one of his sisters. He brushed it off with a roll of his eyes.

A tap on the shoulder had him turning around. He matched the person's smile with one of his own.

"You two didn't have to come all the way here."

"I wanted to get away for a bit," Pyrrha told him.

He laughed. "Paparazzi still after you?"

"When are they not?" she joked.

"Touché."

Neither spoke for a moment. They were alone, as his family had already gone ahead and Thetis seemed content to wait in the car.

"It was nice, seeing you again," he admitted. For reasons he couldn't place, it was difficult to meet her eyes.

The newly-crowned combat school tournament champion giggled into her fist. "It was. Your family is very pleasant. It was a joy to meet them."

"The Vital Festival will be this year, right?" He nodded to himself. "Then that's it. I'll see you soon, Pyrrha. Get ready for our rematch!"

She didn't answer, but her smile was still glowing.

The limousine door opened, and Thetis stalked their way.

"Miss Thetis–"

She pulled him into a hug, catching him off guard. "We said our goodbyes in the car, I know, but we'll miss you kid."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Thank you again."

She laughed and pushed him away. "What for, silly boy."

He took a step back and bowed with his hands intertwined at his waist. "Until next time, then!"

Jaune turned and left to join his family. Thetis and her daughter stood at the airport entrance for a moment longer.

"Hey, mom?"

"Hm?"

"I think… I think I'll want to have my rematch a little sooner. Do you think that'll be alright with dad?"

There was an amused twitch in the older woman's lips. "I don't see why not."

She was only joking about her daughter being whisked away, but this was fine too.

XX

Slurp.

Glynda Goodwitch's brow twitched furiously.

Slurp.

"…"

Slurp.

"Would you mind, Headmaster?" she ground out through clenched teeth.

"Hm?"

Slurp.

She didn't have time to give him a piece of her mind. The conference call was starting.

The call itself wasn't anything special– merely an online group meeting between the four headmasters of the lead huntsman academies across the kingdoms. They were regular, almost like an extended faculty meeting.

However, the subject matter at hand was somewhat important. It was something they would only discuss once a year, and it would impact the future of numerous youths.

Three other faces appeared on the screen.

Professor Ironwood, of Atlas Academy.

Professor Lionheart, of Haven Academy.

Professor Theodore, of Shade Academy.

"Shall we begin then?" asked Ozpin, putting down his coffee mug. On his desk was a stack of papers with a single sticky note on the top to properly label it.

It read, "Scouting reports."

"Let us establish this year's standings."