Shards of Reminisce Ch.61

"Come on, let me show you something cool!"

The blonde girl takes the lead, pulling me through the courtyard and down various pathways, pointing out different buildings and landmarks as we go. She's doing her best to give me some sort of tour, explaining what each building is for, dropping minor facts here and there.

"—and that's the main academic building where most of our classes are held. Professor Port's room is on the second floor, and Oobleck's is on the third. Oh, and that big tower over there? That's where Ozpin's office is. I've only been up a few times for—"

She continues chattering away, though I can tell she doesn't actually know that much about the history or specific details of the academy. She's trying her best though, and honestly, I'm okay with that.

Besides, I don't mind at all. Watching Jeanne get excited and animated about showing me around is more entertaining than any boring facts could be. There's something different about her energy here—more confident, more joyful. 

Like she's finally found where she belongs. And that makes me happy too.

"—so this statue here is of some famous Huntsman from like, forever ago, and he did... something important? I think Professor Oobleck mentioned it in class but I wasn't really paying attention that day because—"

"You have no idea who that is, do you?" I interrupt with a smirk.

Jeanne stops mid-sentence and looks at the statue, then back at me, then laughs sheepishly while rubbing the back of her neck. "Not a clue. I really should've paid more attention during history class." She tilts her head, studying the statue with a thoughtful expression. "Though in my defense, Professor Oobleck talks so fast that it's like trying to drink from a fire hose."

"I don't really care about all that historical stuff anyway," I say with a shrug. "It's just a cool statue."

She laughs again. "Yeah, I figured. You never struck me as the 'sit still and learn about dead people' type."

"Definitely not."

Unless it's something that can help me increase my levels or improve my skills. Then I might pay attention.

She grins and grabs my hand again, pulling me along with renewed enthusiasm. "Okay, well, less boring stuff then. Oh! I know where we should go next! You're gonna love this."

We walk at a brisk pace for another few minutes until we reach a massive building with a large double door. Jeanne moves to the left and pushes them open with both hands, revealing an arena inside.

My ears perk up immediately as I step in and look around. The place is impressive—a large circular combat area in the center with plenty of equipment, surrounded by stadium seating that rises up on all sides. Multiple display screens hang from the ceiling.

"This is where Professor Goodwitch teaches us combat class," Jeanne explains, her voice echoing slightly in the empty space. She spreads her arms wide, gesturing around the arena. "We get paired up randomly and fight while everyone watches. It's... actually pretty intense. Kind of terrifying the first time, but also really cool." She grins proudly. "I was one of the first to be paired up too although I got my ass handed."

So she got to premiere the place? Lucky girl.

Or unlucky since she lost.

I take my time examining the arena itself. The floor looks heavily reinforced—probably has to be, considering that people fight here. The setup reminds me of a fighting pit, with the arena floor set below ground level and the seats rising around it in tiers.

This is actually really fucking cool.

An idea pops into my head, and I turn to Jeanne with a grin. "Wanna fight?"

Jeanne stops mid-step, going completely silent for a moment. Then she bursts out laughing, doubling over slightly. "What? Right now?"

"Yeah, why not? We've sparred plenty of times before." I gesture to the empty arena. "And we've got the perfect place to ourselves."

"I know, but—" She's still laughing, shaking her head as she tries to compose herself. "Maybe later, Ma'iq. Right now we gotta continue the tour! I still have so much to show you!" She grabs my arm and starts pulling me back toward the exit, still giggling. "Besides, I would probably kick your butt now."

"Who knows…" I reply with a smirk. "But you earn some points for confidence."

She swats at my shoulder playfully. "Oh, shut up! I've gotten way better, you know. Just you wait—I'll surprise you one of these days."

"Looking forward to it."

I let myself be dragged along, though I can't help the small smile tugging at my lips. Her laughter is nice.

As we walk down another hallway, Jeanne shifts her grip, wrapping both her arms around my arm and resting her head on my shoulder as we move. She fits perfectly against my side, her pace matching mine naturally.

So this is what it feels like when someone's actually tall enough to do this comfortably. Neo isn't tall enough to rest her head on my shoulder like this when we walk—she usually has to settle for holding my hand or hanging off my arm in other ways.

The thought makes me chuckle quietly.

"What's funny?" Jeanne asks, tilting her head to look up at me without lifting it from my shoulder.

"Nothing. Just thinking."

"About what?" She sounds genuinely curious.

"About how you're the perfect height for this."

Her face flushes pink immediately, but she smiles and snuggles a bit closer, tightening her grip on my arm. "Oh. Well... good. I'm glad you like this. My mom told me guys appreciate this kind of thing." Then she pauses, her flush deepening. "Wait, that sounded weird, didn't it?"

"Little bit," I admit with amusement. "You told your mom about me?"

"Not yet!" she squeaks. "I mean—I haven't told them about... us. Or about Beacon. Or anything, really." She lets out a groan. "They still think I'm attending a university."

"Right, the whole fake transcripts thing." I snort. "Also, isn't it too early to meet your parents, anyway?"

"Well, you're the one who asked for the Arc family experience," she points out.

"Yeah, as friends. Now we're together-together, so I think it would be different, right? Meeting the girlfriend's parents is a whole other thing."

Jeanne looks at me for a long moment, then pouts. "Yeah, you're right. It would be way different." She seems to think about it for a second longer. "My dad would probably try to give you 'the talk' about taking care of his daughter. And my sisters would interrogate you if they don’t go crazy with all your fluffy ears. And my mom would—" She cuts herself off, shaking her head. "Yeah, definitely not ready for that yet."

"Sounds terrifying."

"It would be," she agrees seriously. "Trust me."

Eventually, our walk brings us to another large building outside. Jeanne pushes open one of the doors, revealing an expansive cafeteria with long tables that seem to stretch the entire length of the room. It's mostly empty right now—just a few scattered students, eating or studying or just hanging out. Probably not meal time.

"This is the cafeteria," Jeanne announces, gesturing around with her free hand. "The food is actually pretty good here. Way better than the instant noodles I was living on before..." She trails off, looking at me with hopeful eyes and a slightly sheepish smile. "Wanna eat something?"

I just give her a flat look, raising an eyebrow.

She blinks, then smacks her forehead with her free hand. "Oh right, silly me! You cook amazing food and you have that convenient storage Semblance." She laughs at herself, shaking her head. "I totally forgot about that. Why would you want cafeteria food when you can just pull out something way better?"

I shake my head with amusement and reach into my inventory, pulling out a fresh chocolate chip cookie that's still warm, as if it just came out of the oven (Because it did). The convenience of my inventory keeping food perfectly preserved at the perfect temperature is something I'll never tire of.

Her eyes light up immediately, practically sparkling. "Oh my gosh, yes!" She releases my arm to take it eagerly with both hands, biting into it with enthusiasm. Her expression melts into pure bliss. "Mmmm! This is amazing!" She takes another big bite, then speaks with her mouth slightly full. "Ruby would absolutely love these, I bet. She has such a sweet tooth. Honestly, I think she'd probably marry you on the spot if you made her a batch."

"Ruby?" I ask, watching her devour the cookie.

"Mhmm!" Jeanne nods enthusiastically, swallowing her bite before continuing. "Ruby Rose, my friend. Didn't I tell you about her already?" She takes another bite, savoring it.

I furrow my brows, then the realization hits me. "Oh right, yeah, you did mention her."

Ruby Rose. The girl I met back in Patch who somehow gave me a splitting headache full of strange visions for reasons I still don't understand. Also, Jeanne's friend and Ruby happened to be a team leader of Nora and Ren.

"I can give her a cookie if you want," I offer. "We can look for her."

And hopefully won’t suffer another splitting headache.

Jeanne chews on her cheek, thinking it over, but eventually shakes her head. "She's busy catching up on schoolwork right now. Weiss has her studying pretty hard to make up for... well, Ruby's not exactly the best student." She laughs fondly. "And I don't want to interrupt them, especially since Weiss would definitely get upset with me for distracting Ruby."

"Weiss?" 

"Weiss Schnee," Jeanne explains, finishing her cookie. "She's... well, she's kind of intense about academics. And pretty much everything else, honestly. And very pretty."

I merely shrug. "Fair enough."

We continue walking in comfortable silence for a bit, Jeanne occasionally pointing out other buildings or features of the campus. Eventually, we end up in what looks like a large courtyard with benches scattered around and a few trees providing shade.

"This is one of my favorite spots," Jeanne says, leading me to a bench under a particularly large tree. "Sometimes when classes get overwhelming, I come here to just... breathe, you know?"

We sit down together, and she immediately cuddles up against my side, her head finding its now-familiar spot on my shoulder.

"I'm really glad you came to visit," she says quietly.

I think about what to say next, not wanting to ruin this peaceful moment. My tail curls contentedly around my side as I try to come up with something that isn't awkwardly sentimental or completely dismissive.

But the moment gets ruined anyway when Jeanne suddenly gasps and sits up straight.

"Oh! Cardin!" she calls out, waving enthusiastically.

My ears perk up immediately, and I turn to look in that direction. A tall guy with auburn hair cut short is walking across the courtyard. He waves back with a smile, but it dies the instant his eyes shift from Jeanne to me.

I narrow my eyes as I feel the hostility radiating off him. It's not even subtle—at least not to me. The way his jaw tightens, the way his smile becomes strained.

I can already imagine what he wants to say.

"Cardin! Come say hi!" Jeanne calls out, completely oblivious to his expression.

Great.

The guy—Cardin—changes direction and walks over, his expression neutral now, though I can still see the disdain in his eyes.

"Hey Jeanne," he greets, his voice friendly enough as he stops in front of our bench. Then his gaze slides to me, and his tone cools noticeably. "Didn't know you had... company."

"This is Ma'iq!" Jeanne says brightly, standing up and gesturing between us. "Ma'iq, this is Cardin Winchester. He's a sparring partner from combat class."

"Nice to meet you." Cardin extends his hand with a forced, rigid smile.. 

I stand up slowly, my ears flicking once behind me, and take his hand. "Likewise."

The moment our hands clasp, Cardin's grip tightens, trying to crush my hand.

‘Oh, fuck no.’

I immediately squeeze back, matching his strength and then exceeding it. His eyes widen and I see a flash of surprise before his expression hardens into determination. We stand there, hands locked in what's essentially a silent pissing contest, neither of us willing to back down first.

If it wasn’t for that massive increase of strength then he might have gotten the upper hand on me.

Jeanne doesn't seem to notice anything wrong. "Ma'iq is actually the one who trained me! He taught me a lot of what I know about combat. Well, almost everything—Pyrrha has been teaching me a lot too, but Ma'iq laid all the foundations."

Cardin's grip tightens even more at that information, and I respond in kind. "Really? That's... impressive. Where'd you train, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Here and there," I reply vaguely, not breaking eye contact. "Picked things up as I went."

Jeanne jumps in enthusiastically. "Oh, he taught me the... um..." She rubs her temple, trying to remember. "What was it called again? Dawn-something?"

"Dawnguard," Cardin supplies, finally releasing my hand. We both flex our fingers subtly, neither wanting to show weakness.

"Right! Dawnguard combat school as you called it." Jeanne says proudly. “He taught everything!”

Cardin's eyebrows rise slightly, and there's something almost mocking in his expression now. "Everything? Seriously?" He lets out a small laugh that doesn't reach his eyes. "That's... quite the claim. Such an ancient and prestigious style, coming from..." He lets his gaze travel pointedly over me, from my ears to my casual clothes. "Well. You."

He couldn’t be more obvious than that, could he?

My ears flatten slightly against my skull, and I feel my lip want to curl back from my teeth. "Something wrong with that?"

"Oh, not at all," Cardin says with that same fake pleasantness. "It's just that Dawnguard is known for being incredibly complex. Very precise. Requires years of formal training under a certified master." He tilts his head slightly. "I'm just curious where a... self-taught individual would have learned such techniques."

"Like I said," I reply coolly, "here and there. Found an old training manual, practiced the forms, made it work."

"A manual," Cardin repeats, and now there's definitely mockery in his tone. "You learned Dawnguard—one of the most complex combat styles in Remnant—from a book?"

"Got a problem with that?" My tail lashes once behind me.

"No problem at all," Cardin says smoothly. "I'm just... skeptical. Dawnguard emphasizes proper stance, weight distribution, the relationship between footwork and blade work. It's not something you can just pick up from reading about it." He crosses his arms, looking down at me. "For example, what's the core principle behind the opening stance in Ox stance?"

I blink, my mind racing. Ox stance? The fuck is thar? I learned the movements from following the pictures in the manual, but I never paid attention to the rest or notes, just what was important.

"The core principle," I repeat slowly, buying time.

"Yes," Cardin says, and there's a victorious gleam in his eyes now. "Surely if you've mastered Dawnguard well enough to teach it, you'd know the fundamental theory behind each and every single one of its forms?"

Jeanne is looking between us now, confusion creeping into her expression. 

"Ma'iq?" she says uncertainly.

Fuck this guy.

I do know how to fight with sword and shield and some cool but useful techniques, the actual fighting part which actually matters in this world. But all the words, the names, the philosophical foundations? I skipped all that boring shit and just focused on what worked.

And Jeanne needed help in how not to die, not to pass a written exam.

"I focus more on practical application than academics," I say, keeping my voice even. "You know we have plenty to fight. That's what matters."

"Interesting approach," Cardin says, his smile widening. "Though I suppose that explains why Jeanne here still struggles with some of the finer points. Hard to teach proper form when you don't understand the underlying principles yourself."

My hands curl into fists at my sides. "Oh really? She was doing just fine."

"Oh, I'm sure she is by sheer luck," Cardin readily agrees. "For someone who's essentially learning a bastardized version of a classical style. No offense to you, of course, Jeanne," he adds, glancing at her with false concern. "You're quite talented. I just worry that learning from someone who doesn't fully understand what they're teaching might... limit your potential."

Oh, this fucking asshole.

"Hey—" Jeanne starts.

"I understand plenty," I cut in, my voice harder now. "Enough to know that you're full of shit."

Cardin's expression hardens, the pleasant facade finally cracking. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." I take a step closer, and he's taller than me, but I don't give a fuck. "You can dress it up with fancy words and technical bullshit all you want, but at the end of the day, Jeanne can fight because of ME. She's gotten stronger, so I am. And that's more than whatever words you're jerking yourself off about."

"Ma'iq!" Jeanne gasps.

Cardin's jaw clenches, his eyes flashing with anger. "At least I know what I'm talking about. Unlike some street rat who stumbled across a fake copy and thinks that makes him qualified to—"

"Cardin!" Jeanne's voice is sharp now, finally catching onto what's really happening. "That's enough."

He stops, looking at her in surprise. "Jeanne, I'm just trying to—"

"I know exactly what you're trying to do," she says, and there's steel in her voice. She steps between us, holding up both hands. "Now both of you, that's enough."

We both blink in unison but Cardin is the one to speak up first. "Jeanne, I was just—"

"Being an asshole, and totally uncalled for." she cuts him off, then turns to give me a look. "And you're not helping either, Ma'iq."

I feel my ears flatten slightly. He started it.

Jeanne takes a breath, clearly trying to calm herself. "Look, Cardin, I appreciate that you… helped me train and all that. But Ma'iq's was the first to train me and teach everything. I wouldn't have made it through initiation."

Cardin's expression softens slightly when he looks at her, though his eyes stay cold when they flick to me. "Of course he did…”

Suck it.

"So please, don’t antagonize him. I don’t want people fighting." She says innocently because I know damn well that will not happen anytime soon.

"Fair enough," Cardin concedes with a slight nod. He glances at me again. "No hard feelings, I hope. Just looking out for a classmate."

Is he insinuating something?

"Right," I say flatly, but don’t want to make Jeanne more upset. "No hard feelings…"

There's a moment of awkward silence where we all just stand there.

"Well," Cardin says, breaking it with a polite smile aimed at Jeanne, "I should get going. Team training in twenty minutes. Winchester doesn't run late." He gives a small wave. "See you in class, Jeanne."

"Yeah, see you," she replies, her tone still a bit stiff.

Cardin nods once at me—barely acknowledging my existence—then turns and walks away with measured, confident steps.

I watch him go, my tail twitching with irritation.

Jeanne lets out a long sigh and turns to face me fully, her expression apologetic. "Ma'iq, I'm really sorry about that."

"For what?" I ask, confused by the apology.

"For Cardin being so... like that." She fidgets with her ponytail. "I didn't think he'd be so condescending. He's usually pretty nice when we spar, maybe a bit full of himself sometimes, but not like that." She looks genuinely troubled. "I shouldn't have called him over."

"It's not your fault," I say, adjusting the loose strand of her hair.. "You didn't know he'd be an asshole."

"Still." She chews her lip. "The way he talked to you, questioning everything... that wasn't okay. I should have shut it down sooner."

I shrug, trying to let the irritation drain away. "It's whatever. Forget about it."

It isn’t like it was a new thing to me.

But I can't quite shake the feeling of his eyes on me.

Jeanne reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing gently. "Are you okay though? You looked angry."

"Yeah, I'm fine." I squeeze back, then something in me shifts and let it take a little control over me.

Without really thinking about it, I pull her closer, wrapping my arms around her waist. She squeaks but doesn't pull away, instead leaning into me.

"Ma'iq?" she asks, her voice slightly muffled against my chest.

I don't answer immediately. Instead, I just hold her tighter, my tail curling around to brush against her leg as one thought invades my mind. 

Mine. Jeanne is mine, not his. 

That’s what pissed me off, that asshole clearly wanted my woman.

Fuck that asshole.

She is mine.

"Just... needed this," I mutter, burying my face against her hair and breathing in her sweet scent.

Jeanne's arms come up to wrap around me in return, and I feel her relax into the embrace. "Okay," she says softly, not questioning it further.

I hope that prick is somewhere watching us and fucking dying of jealousy.

We stand there for a long moment, and gradually the tension in my shoulders starts to ease. Yet that strange need doesn't fade entirely—if anything, it's settled into something deeper, more certain—but at least I don't feel like I need to go track down Cardin and finish what we started.

"You're really warm," Jeanne murmurs, her fingers playing with the fabric of my shirt at my back.

"Faunus thing," I reply absently, still not ready to let go.

"I like it."

That makes me smile despite myself. I pull back just enough to look down at her, and she's looking up at me with those beautiful blue eyes.

Before I can second-guess myself, I lean down and kiss her. It's a little different from the other times though, but I quite like the fresh taste. She makes another small noise of surprise but melts into it almost immediately, her hands fisting in my shirt to pull me closer.

When we finally break apart, we're both breathing a bit harder, and Jeanne's face is completely flushed.

"What was that for?" she asks, sounding dazed.

"Just felt like it,"

Jeanne's blush deepens, but she's smiling. "Oh. Well... you can do that as long as we aren’t in a crowded place, it would be too embarrassing otherwise."

"Careful what you offer," I tease, though my tail is wagging slightly behind me, betraying my pleased mood.

She lets out a short laugh. "Come on," she says, taking my hand again and tugging me along. "Let's go somewhere else. I want to show you the library—it's huge! You'd love it. Well, maybe not love it since you're not really a reading person, but it's still really impressive!"

I let her pull me along, our fingers intertwined, and I can't help but notice how she stays closer to my side now, occasionally glancing up at me with a soft smile.

Yeah. She's definitely mine.

And anyone who has a problem with that can fuck right off.

"Ma'iq?" Jeanne's voice pulls me from my thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"You're smiling. What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing important," I lie, giving her hand a squeeze. "Just glad I came to visit."

Her answering smile is bright enough to rival the sun. "Me too."

As we walk toward the library, I find myself being more openly affectionate than usual—keeping her close, occasionally brushing my thumb over her knuckles, letting my tail stay wrapped loosely around her leg. It's instinctive, this need to mark her as mine, to make sure anyone who sees us together knows exactly what we are to each other.

Jeanne doesn't seem to mind. If anything, she leans into it, looking pleased and a bit flustered by the attention.

"You're being really cuddly today," she observes, though she's clearly not complaining.

"Is that a problem?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"No! Not at all!" she rushes to assure me, her face flushing again. "I like it. It's just... I don’t know, a little soon? I mean like… I don’t know."

I shrug, unable to fully explain the protective instinct driving my behavior. "Me neither, it's just a feeling to be more cuddly."

"I guess it's a good thing, I didn't think I would see this part of you." she says, twirling the tip of her hair with her other hand.

Good. 

We reach the library, and Jeanne pushes open the large doors to reveal an absolutely massive space filled with towering shelves of books. She's right—it is impressive, even if reading isn't really my thing. Unless it's to get more power.

"See? Told you it was huge!" she says excitedly, leading me inside. "Pyrrha takes me here sometimes to study or do homework. It's usually pretty quiet, and there are these really comfortable reading nooks—"

She continues chattering away, and I let her, content to just listen and follow her around. My hand never leaves hers, and whenever someone passes by—especially male students—I find myself pulling her closer.

Mine.

And judging by the way Jeanne keeps smiling up at me, she doesn't mind one bit.

"You know what?" Jeanne says as we step into the library's entrance hall. "Why don't you explore a bit on your own? I know I've been dragging you around everywhere, and you might want to just... look around at your own pace."

I raise an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Yeah!" She nods enthusiastically. "I'll wait here by the door. Just, you know, try not to get lost. And maybe don't knock anything over?" She gives me a teasing smile. "Make some noise if you need help finding your way back."

"I'm not a kid, Jeanne," I say dryly.

"I know, I know." She waves me off playfully. "Go on, explore. I'll be right here."

Not the most exciting place to explore, to be honest.

However, the academy library is pretty massive. Rows upon rows of shelves stretch out in what seems like every direction, organized in a way that looks like a deliberate maze. Still, as I walk through the corridors of books, I notice patterns—sections marked with small plaques, shelves grouped by subject.

My ears swivel, picking up the soft sounds of pages turning somewhere distant, the creak of old wood, the faint hum of overhead lights. There are some students scattered throughout the space, probably studying or doing homework. Since the place is so big, it still feels relatively empty with everyone spread out, their noses buried in books or scrolls or hunched over computer terminals.

I keep walking, my eyes scanning the section markers as I pass. History. Philosophy. Grimm Studies. Dust Theory.

Then I spot something that makes me pause: Weapons & Smithing.

Now we're talking.

I turn down that aisle, my tail swishing with interest. The shelves here are packed with books of all sizes—some thin manuals, others thick tomes the width of my forearm. I scan the spines, reading the titles embossed on them.

Advanced Dust Integration in Modern Weaponry

The Evolution of Mechashift Technology: From Concept to Creation

Practical Smithing for Huntsmen: A Comprehensive Guide

My ears perk up. This is exactly what I was looking for.

I mean, Beacon is a prestigious huntsman academy—the best of the best according to everyone. Of course they'd have extensive information on weapon crafting and maintenance. It makes plenty of sense that students here are expected to maintain their own weapons, build them from scratch even.

I continue down the aisle, my eyes hungrily taking in more titles.

Mechashift Fundamentals: Understanding Transformation Mechanisms

Metalworking and Alloy Composition for Combat Applications

Weapon Maintenance in the Field: A Hunter's Manual

Perfect.

I glance around, making sure I'm alone in this section. The nearest person is a couple aisles away, completely absorbed in whatever they're reading. And I can't spot any surveillance cameras anywhere, which means the coast is clear.

Moving quickly, I reach out and touch the frame of Practical Smithing for Huntsmen. The moment my fingers make contact, the book shimmers and dematerializes, disappearing into my inventory.

One down.

I move to the next one—Mechashift Fundamentals. 

Touch. Shimmer. Gone.

Then The Evolution of Mechashift Technology.

Advanced Dust Integration.

Metalworking and Alloy Composition.

Weapon Maintenance in the Field.

I grab one more for good measure—Blueprint Reading and Technical Drafting for Weapon Design.

Seven books total, all safely stored in my inventory safely.

I step back and examine the shelf. There are easily hundreds, if not thousands, of books in this section alone. Seven missing won't be noticed, especially since I took them from different spots along the shelf. And even if someone does notice eventually, there's no way to trace it back to me.

Perfect.

I can't help the satisfied smirk that crosses my face. These books are going to be useful for improving my craft, and maybe—just maybe—they'll help me figure out how to create a mechashift weapon. Whether for myself or to sell, I know those things have quite the price tag.

The thought is exciting. 

But there's one more thing I want to check out while I'm here: Beacon's armory and workshop. I need to see what kind of setup they have, compare it to what I've got back in my apartment basement. Obviously I can't take the equipment, but at least I can get a good look at what they're working with so I know what to invest in later.

But for now, my objective here is complete. Time to head back.

I turn and make my way toward the entrance, retracing my steps through the maze of shelves until I spot the entrance. Jeanne is right where she said she'd be, leaning against the wall near the doors and scrolling through her scroll.

She looks up when she hears me approaching; her face brightening immediately. "Find anything interesting?"

"Yeah, actually." I shrug casually, playing it off. "Lots of books on smithing and weapon tech. Pretty impressive collection."

"Right? Beacon really has everything." She pushes off the wall and comes over to take my hand again, her fingers lacing through mine naturally. "Ready to see more of the campus?"

"Actually," I say, an idea forming, "is there a workshop here? Or an armory? Figured a place like this would have stuff like that"

"Oh yeah! The workshop is really impressive. Professor Mulberry oversees it, but students can use it pretty much whenever they want as long as they follow the safety rules." She pauses, then adds, "Although, I know little about the technical stuff. You'd have to ask Ruby about that—she'd happily give you as many details as you want about the workshop and weapons since she's the expert. That girl could talk about that for hours. Want to see it?"

"Yeah."

"Okay!" She pulls me along with renewed energy. "It's in a different building, but not too far. Come on!"

-------------------------------------------------

-Ruby Rose-

Ruby was calmly building a simple prototype mechashift scythe in the workshop, her hands steady as she worked on the delicate mechanisms. She would never, ever replace Crescent Rose—her baby was perfect and completely irreplaceable—but she wanted to test out some new design concepts she'd been planning for a while. The prototype was necessary to experiment with potential improvements before she dared touch her beloved weapon.

As she finished welding the last connecting joint, she pulled off her safety goggles and set them aside along with her protective gloves, admiring her handiwork with a satisfied smile.

The workshop door swung open, and Ruby's head snapped up automatically.

"Jeanne!" Ruby was about to call out cheerfully, her hand already rising in greeting, when another figure entered behind her friend. A guy, dressed casually in regular clothes rather than the academy uniform, with distinctive cat ears perched on his head.

Wait, Jeanne brought a guy to Beacon?

Ruby's eyebrows creased slightly in confusion as she tried to place him. There was something familiar about those ears and he also had a tail, but then her silver eyes widened in sudden recognition as she got a better look at his face.

It was Ma'iq! The cat Faunus she'd met in Patch when Zwei had escaped and decided to play chase!

"Hey guys!" she finally called out to both of them, waving her hand enthusiastically, a bright grin spreading across her face. 

It was so cool seeing him again! What were the chances?

"Ruby!" Jeanne greeted back just as happily.

"Hey, Ruby," Ma'iq said with a casual nod, his tail swishing lazily behind him. "What a coincidence."

"Heya, Ma'iq! I totally didn't expect to see you here at Beacon!" Ruby beamed, quickly wiping the grease and metal shavings off her hands with a nearby rag. She remembered that random encounter in Patch pretty clearly—Zwei running off like the little troublemaker he was, and then finding him playing with him and being the adorably fluff ball he was. That had been such a weird but fun afternoon. "So what brings you all the way here? Are you visiting someone? Oh! Are you thinking about applying to Beacon? Because that would be awesome!"

Ma'iq tilted his head slightly, and then—and Ruby had absolutely no idea how he did this because she was watching his hands the whole time—somehow produced a cookie from seemingly nowhere. Not just any cookie either, but a huge, absolutely gorgeous chocolate chip cookie that looked perfect. Golden brown, with melty chocolate chips still glistening, and it was warm. She could actually see a tiny wisp of steam rising from it, like it had just come out of the oven moments ago.

The smell hit her a second later, and Ruby's eyes locked onto the sweet.

"Well, since you're here and since Jeanne said you were an expert on weapons and stuff, I was hoping you could help me with a few things. Teach me about the equipment, show me around the workshop, maybe explain some of the technical stuff." He paused, holding the cookie just slightly out of reach. "In exchange, I'll give you these cookies I baked. I've got a whole batch."

A whole batch?!

Ruby's hand shot out faster than her Semblance could carry her, snatching the cookie before he could change his mind or take it back or decide this was a prank. She took a huge bite, and her eyes practically rolled back in her head as she let out an involuntary moan.

Oh. My. Gosh. 

This was—this was the best cookie she'd ever tasted in her entire life! Better than the specialty bakery in Patch! Better than the ones from that shop at Vale she'd visited weeks ago! The chocolate chips were perfectly melted and gooey, the texture was somehow both crispy and golden on the edges and impossibly soft and chewy in the middle, and there was this amazing hint of something—vanilla? Brown sugar? Magic?—that made it absolutely, positively, without-a-doubt perfect!

"Marry me!" The words tumbled out of her mouth before her brain could catch up.

"What?" Ma'iq took a startled step backward, his cat ears shooting straight up in surprise.

Wait. Wait wait wait, what did she just—

"What?!" Ruby squeaked, nearly choking on her bite of cookie as realization crashed into herl. Her face immediately started turning bright red, heat flooding her cheeks. "I mean—what did I just—I didn't mean—"

"What?!" Jeanne's voice came out as a high-pitched squeak of her own, her face going pale first and then immediately flushing bright crimson. "Ruby!"

"I didn't mean that! I mean, I did say it, but I didn't mean-mean it like that!" Ruby frantically waved her free hand—the one not clutching the precious, beautiful, perfect cookie like her life depended on it—trying desperately to backtrack. "It's just a figure of speech! Like when something's so amazingly good that you'd marry it but you wouldn't actually marry it because that would be super weird and also illegal probably and also I don't even really know you except for that one time in Patch"

She was talking way too fast now, the words just spilling out faster and faster.

"Not that there's anything wrong with you! You seem really nice and you make incredible cookies but that's not the point! The point is, I wasn't proposing or anything I was just—the cookies are really good and I wasn't thinking and sometimes words just come out of my mouth before my brain approves them and—!"

Ruby cut herself off mid-ramble, mortified beyond belief, and shoved the rest of the cookie into her mouth to physically prevent herself from saying anything else stupid. Her face felt like it was literally on fire.

Ma'iq stared at her with a baffled expression.

Jeanne was looking at her with her mouth hanging slightly open, which somehow made Ruby feel even more embarrassed because now her friend had seen and heard her

Ruby chewed frantically, her face burning so hot that she felt trickles of sweat. This was worse than the time she'd accidentally called Professor Port "Dad" in front of the entire class.

"So..." Ma'iq said slowly, breaking the painfully awkward silence. "Is that a yes, or...?"

Ruby swallowed with some difficulty. "Yes! Absolutely! I can totally help you!" She nodded so enthusiastically her entire body moved with it. "I'm really great at weapons and stuff and I will teach you literally everything you want to know about anything in here!" She was still talking way too fast, the words running together. "All the machinery, the tools, the techniques, the design principles, the maintenance—"

She forced herself to take an exaggerated breath, trying to slow down her racing heart and stop herself from babbling. Her hands were fidgeting with the rag she was still holding, twisting it nervously.

Okay. Okay. Professional. Be professional. You're a team leader. Leaders don't accidentally propose to people over cookies. Well, probably some leaders do but she wasn’t going to be one of them.

Ruby cleared her throat and tried to compose herself, looking at Ma'iq with her best attempt at a calm, professional expression—which was probably completely ruined by the cookie crumbs she could feel on her face and the fact that she was still blushing. "So, um, yeah! What exactly did you want to learn about first? "