I roll into the first day of class riding on a passable six hours of sleep.

  The buzz of dozens of students rolling into the classroom makes it easier to pretend this is just another ordinary day. No expectations, sense of pressure—just the murmur of strangers settling into seats, each one carrying their own uncertainties.

  The morning unfolds predictably. Teachers take turns introducing themselves, each trying to balance authority with a hint of approachability. They explain the plan for the day: a whirlwind tour of subjects designed to assess where we stand academically and patch up any glaring gaps before the real grind of the school year begins. Eight hours of bouncing between topics and assignments—like trial by academic fire.

  At the end of the reception, we’re instructed to form groups of four to help each other navigate the day. Most students cluster instinctively into groups, gravitating toward familiar faces usually with one or two gold-band wearers at the center of it all.

  And then I spot her. Pyrrha.

  She’s tucked into a corner, seated alone with an almost defiant stillness, like she’s daring anyone to approach—or maybe hoping no one will. I hesitate a bit, caught between curiosity and apprehension. Whatever I expected to find today, Pyrrha sitting by herself wasn’t it.

  And seeing as how not even the most desperate-looking of students seem eager to approach the towering, shredded Faunus practicing her stealth three steps behind me, it seems a good a moment as any.

  And apparently, I’m not the only one who noticed.

  “Hey—” I start, stepping toward her.

  “Pyrrha!”

  The interruption comes from my right. I turn to find Weiss Schnee standing on Pyrrha’s other side, her perfectly composed expression faltering as our eyes meet.

  Weiss clears her throat, her voice crisp but wavering. “Ehem. I’m sorry, but we’re both already swamped with offers from other teams. I just don’t think we’ll be able to attend to you today.”

  I glance at Rain. She looks around the room, her gaze bouncing from group to group before she shakes her head. “No… No one’s coming.”

  Weiss bristles, her face reddening as she snaps, “That’s because the two of you are standing there, making it look like we already have a team!”

  Her loud voice draws a few curious glances from nearby students. I catch Rain’s worried look, and instinctively I raise my hands, backing off. “Alright, alright… maybe we should—”

  “Wait!”

  Pyrrha’s speaks up, and for the first time, she lifts her head fully. There’s something in her expression—a plea that catches me off guard. “Since you’re already here… I would be glad if we could count on your company. It’s just an assignment, after all.”

  Her words linger for a moment and even Weiss doesn’t complain, crossing her arms tightly but no longer objecting outright.

  After a tense beat, Weiss sighs, clearly exasperated. “Fine. But we have to start looking for a real team after this, Pyrrha. I mean it. We’re too good to risk being stuck with just anyone. The administration might even step in if we’re not careful! Do you want them to think we’re intentionally—” She’s already moving to grab her chair, her voice trailing off into a muffled ramble.

  I glance at Pyrrha, tilting my head slightly. “She’s… got a silver band, doesn’t she?”

  Pyrrha flinches, her expression tightening with something like shame. “Please. Just… give us a chance. She’s… Incredibly talented.”

  It wasn’t like I was going to let this opportunity slip away. But hey, who doesn’t love playing a little hard to get every now and then?

  “Are you sure?” Rain plops into an empty chair beside me, her posture equal parts boredom and disappointment. “That one’s handsome, but where’s smart? See? Humans always talk, thoughts just fall right out of mouth.”

  “—and don’t even get me talking about male-only teams! I’m like… Uh? Excuse me?! That’s one way to tell everyone you don’t like spending time with girls.”

  As Weiss returns, her chair scraping loudly against the floor, I sigh and shoot Pyrrha a look—a mirror of the apologetic one she just gave me. “Why don’t we just focus on the tests for now? If everything goes well, maybe Pyrrha can handle the brains, and I’ll work on being… a little quieter.”

  Rain blinks, visibly caught off guard by the comment. Her indignation falters into mild embarrassment before she rests back into her chair, her chin on one arm, feigning disinterest. “Fine… but missy better be strong, then. I’m more than just pretty face.”

  After that, the day goes… surprisingly well.

  Weiss, unsurprisingly, excels in nearly every academic subject. No doubt a product of spending most of her life alone inside a castle. Pyrrha and Rain aren’t that far behind, each navigating the material with their own quiet competence. Meanwhile, I find myself lagging a bit.

  Math is manageable; I even seem to have a slight edge over Remnant’s average. But the moment we dive into physics, biology or chemistry, it all falls apart. Concepts that should click don’t, and formulas that seem straightforward refuse to stick. The problem? I don’t really know anything about this world.

  Even gravity is different here. Hell, who knows what other fundamental rules are bent or broken? I spend most of the morning scribbling down notes, pretending I understand while hoping no one notices that I’m basically an overgrown toddler.

  At least I’m leveling up skills.

  [World Knowledge] Lvl 3 (2%)

  Eh, better than nothing…

  By the time the lunch break rolls around, the tension has faded enough for us to sit together without awkward silences or nerves, just… Having a good time, taking a breather.

  “So… Rain,” Pyrrha begins, leaning forward slightly, her curiosity shining through her otherwise reserved demeanor. “Where are you from? I’ve never heard an accent so… unique.”

  Rain, more preoccupied with taking exaggerated bites from her loaf of salami, barely spares her a glance. “Anima.”

  “Anima?” Pyrrha echoes, brow furrowing. “But I’m—”

  “You’re from Mistral? And you don’t know who Pyrrha Nikos is?!” Weiss cuts in from across the table, practically scandalized. She gestures wildly in Pyrrha’s direction. “She’s won the Mistral Regional Tournament four years in a row!”

  “The what?”

  “It’s… just something we have at Haven,” Pyrrha mumbles, cheeks flushing as she waves off the attention.

  Rain, unfazed, continues chewing. “Ah, Haven I know. South. We not go there—too many people. Very hot. North better. Quiet.”

  “You’re from Anima’s tundra, then?” That’s about the extent of my geographical knowledge. “Why come here, though? Doesn’t sound like your family’s too fond of Vale, either.”

  Rain nods proudly, wiping her mouth with a napkin so delicately its comical. “Tundra tiger. Very cute. Best tiger. Before, we Atlas. Then bad Atlas, we Anima. Father goes on long travel, learn human tongue, start dating human, bring home. I don’t really like, so he send letter to Ozpin, send me away.”

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Her broken speech mixed in between bites is truly something to behold, but we get most of it… I think.

  “So… you got into a fight with your dad because he’s dating a human?” I ask, tilting my head.

  “Small human. He wanted me to call mother. Very strange,” she replies with a completely deadpan expression. “People go south, come back weird.”

  “No, I totally get it!” Weiss laughs, her pristine composure cracking as she presses a hand to her chest. “Can you imagine your father suddenly marrying a Faunus? And just… bringing it home? Oh, that’d be hilarious.”

  Pyrrha and I exchange a look, both baffled and mildly horrified by whatever alien common ground Weiss and Rain have just discovered. But hey, at least they’re bonding… somehow.

  As the lunch break ends and we head back toward the classroom, Pyrrha tugs at my arm, pulling me aside.

  “Hey…” she whispers. “Would you mind if we… took a moment longer? There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.”

  Seeing as my friendly predator has finally found someone else to latch onto for more than five minutes, I shrug. “Sure, we can take a walk.”

  The words leave my mouth casually, but following Pyrrha Nikos around Beacon’s radiant campus under the warm afternoon sun is anything but ordinary. She walks with a measured elegance, her pace slow and deliberate, arms clasped behind her back as she meanders with no clear destination. It feels less like she’s leading and more like she’s drifting—wandering, really—just… away.

  I adjust my semi-formal outfit—nothing flashy, just something dark and practical I picked up to wear under my armor. It’s functional, but walking beside Pyrrha, it feels out of place. She’s like a character pulled straight from the pages of an epic tale, perfectly at home in this fantasy world.

  “Listen, Vesper.” She stops suddenly, turning to face me. Her words are eloquent as ever, but there’s a nervous edge to them. “I truly appreciate this opportunity to prove our abilities, but… may I ask why?”

  “Why?” I echo, caught a little off guard.

  “Why us? Why me?” Her gaze drops to the ground, her composure faltering for the first time. “I saw the recognition in your eyes last night. You… know who I am, don’t you?”

  “I do,” I admit, though I’m not sure where she’s going with this.

  “Then it doesn’t make sense.” She takes a breath, her voice quieter now. “My strength wasn’t enough, not when it truly mattered. If you’re looking for a proven champion, I’ve already failed. So, why would you choose me?”

  I open my mouth to respond but hesitate. Her doubts laid bare, like a crack in the polished armor of a hero.

  “Maybe I just like you,” I say without much thought.

  “I’m sorry… what?”

  “I mean, yeah, you’re strong—that’s a given. But, if I’m being honest? I’m not picking teammates purely for strength. That only matters if I plan on getting my ass kicked anyway.” I shrug, my tone lightening. “I probably would’ve chosen the sad-looking girl sitting beside me during the announcement even if she wasn’t Pyrrha Nikos. The fact that you’re one of the few people I actually recognize? Let’s just call that luck.”

  Her expression shifts—confused, maybe a little intrigued—but I keep going, trying to thread a needle between honesty and the things I just can’t say.

  “Living outside the kingdoms…” I pause, weaving lies with just enough truth to make them believable. “You hear stories. You imagine what it’d be like to stand here, with those people. I don’t care if you got eliminated on the entrance exam. Honestly? I’d be more worried if all that fame had gone to your head. But you…” I give her a wry smile. “You’re surprisingly not an asshole, and I feel like my team could use that.”

  For a moment, she just stares, as if trying to decide whether I’m serious or insane. Then, to my surprise, she laughs—really laughs, the sound spilling out of her as she clutches her chest, struggling for breath.

  “I’m sorry,” she gasps between chuckles, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes. “It’s just… people don’t usually talk to me like that. And much less a fan,” she adds, her tone playful now, the word drawn out like a teasing jab.

  “Ha-ha,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes. “Does that mean you’ll give us a chance?”

  Her laughter fades, replaced by a more thoughtful look. The shift is subtle but unmistakable, like clouds dimming the edge of the sun. “I’m… I’m not leaving Weiss behind,” she says finally, her voice steady but tinged with something deeper. “I know she can be… controversial. But she’s been nothing but kind to me since I got to Beacon. I think she deserves a place here.”

  “Done,” I reply without hesitation. “As long as she’s cool with the big cat, I actually think she’s funny. A little too violent for her size, but that’s not the worst thing for a Huntress.”

  Pyrrha exhales slowly, as if trying to release some invisible weight. But there’s something in her eyes, a hesitation, that tells me she’s still holding something back.

  “And… I’ll need some time to make my choice. I’m glad you’re not just looking for a shield to stand behind, but…”

  “Why don’t we meet after class?” I suggest. “I know a place.”

  The afternoon shift passes in a blur, with only Weapon Crafting and Upkeep managing to hold my attention. Out of the half-dozen subjects I’ll need to master to avoid getting thrown out of school, it’s the one I’m actually eager to learn. The rest? A mountain of books waiting to remind me how far behind I am. But for now, I push all that aside and focus on the night ahead.

  Stepping out of the classroom, the change in atmosphere slowly settles in as the sun starts to go down. A dense purple mist engulfs the first floor, thick and intoxicating, as students gather to escape the grind of their new reality. Laughter and shouts fill the air, a chaotic symphony of people determined to ignore the weight of responsibility, if only for a few hours.

  I’d like to say I’m surprised the administration turns a blind eye to the mess, but honestly? Considering the chaos this school thrives on—and the fact that most of these faces won’t even last the week—it feels appropriately inevitable.

  Among the crowd, an unmistakable scene grabs my attention: a half-drunk Weiss perched on Rain’s shoulders, her voice rising above the noise as she shouts something unintelligible but undeniably commanding. It’s absurd. Impossible to ignore. And somehow, I think it’s exactly what Pyrrha needed—a vivid reminder that even logic can let loose.

  The haze thickens, its sickly sweet aroma blurring the edges of reality, until it feels like there’s only the two of us left in the room. Or maybe I just want it to feel that way. The music pounds, a steady rhythm that drowns out everything else, and even though dancing is far from one of my leveled-up skills, I let myself stumble through it.

  Pyrrha, ever graceful, matches my awkward steps with her own easy elegance, and we find a strange, shared rhythm. It’s not perfect—it’s not even good—but we laugh through the missteps and pretend like we belong. In that moment, the weight of the day falls away, leaving only the fleeting joy of pretending, of letting go.

  And I let myself enjoy it, even though neither of us fully believes in the illusion.

  “Hey,” I whisper, leaning closer to Pyrrha’s ear, the music muffling my words. “Mind if we take our leave?”

  Her head tilts slightly, eyes meeting mine with surprise, amusement, and perhaps a trace of flattery. That’s probably the alcohol talking. “And what we are you talking about?”

  “Well, we are a team, aren’t we?” The word hangs between us. I notice her flinch as soon as I say it. “Maybe I should show you your room. I’ll message Rain, I doubt Weiss will stay on her feet much longer anyway.”

  “S-Sure… Yeah, that sounds like a plan,” she stammers, a little off-balance.

  Beacon had assigned Rain and me each a spacious apartment on the second floor meant for a full team, and since I had little more than a backpack to my name, I’d ended up moving into hers. The wristbands we wore doubled as keys, a nice security feature that spared me from worrying about opportunistic classmates looting our stuff out of spite before heading home.

  “This one’s yours,” I say, gesturing to the door as we enter. “We’re on the other side, so Weiss will probably end up next to you.”

  The room is pristine, its walls a soft grey accented by cream curtains and a large bed dressed in pale blue linens. The furniture gleams, polished and new, lending the space the kind of cozy charm you feel when opening a carefully wrapped gift.

  Pyrrha steps inside slowly, carefully. She takes it all in with an air of quiet acceptance—grateful, yes, but distant. It’s a demeanor I’ve come to recognize, now that I’m paying attention.

  “You’re not staying, are you?” I say, chuckling under my breath.

  She looks back at me, offering a small, apologetic smile. “This… As I said, I’m thankful. It’s just that…” Her voice trails off, and I arch an eyebrow, silently urging her to continue.

  “It doesn’t feel right,” she admits at last. “I could have another chance next year at any academy I choose. Maybe even this year… Mistral wouldn’t reject me.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “So your plan was to just ditch Weiss here? Play along until we agreed to babysit her like some stray puppy you picked up?”

  “No!” she snaps, her voice sharp with indignation. “I just wanted her to have a team—a chance. To be happy instead of going back to a cold home where no one appreciates her!”

  I tilt my head, studying her carefully. “Are we still talking about Weiss?”

  Pyrrha’s face falls, her arms wrapping around herself defensively.

  “Look,” I say, my tone softening but still firm. “I’m not here to tell you what to do. But if you want people to treat you like a real person, you need to start acting like one.”

  She blinks, taken aback.

  “You’re not the only one here who’s worked hard, Pyrrha. I know you’re trying to do the right thing, I get it. But no one’s going to be happy if the only reason they made it into Beacon is because you decided to step aside for them. You can’t keep saving people from living their own lives. You’re not some kind of martyr. Let them lose. Let them get back up. They might be weaker than you, but that doesn’t make them children.”

  The room falls silent. Pyrrha stares at me, her expression a mix of shock and something deeper, something harder to define.

  “If you keep putting sacrifice before your own life, you won’t make it far enough to actually help anyone. Believe me, I’ve seen it before.”

  Her gaze drops, and the weight of my words hangs in between us. With nothing else to say, I leave, tired, glad that my own room is just down the hall. The mix of dizziness and tangled thoughts quickly morphs into a throbbing headache. Before I can start second-guessing everything I just said, I collapse onto the bed, close my eyes, and let sleep take over.

  The next thing I know, it’s six in the morning, and someone is knocking—gently, but insistently—on my door. I pull myself up and open it, squinting against the early light.

  Pyrrha stands there, looking as though she hasn’t slept a minute. Her eyes are heavy with exhaustion, but there’s something else in them: determination.

  What truly catches my attention, though, is the chaos in the living room behind her. The table is flipped onto its side like a makeshift barricade, with carpets piled on top for some reason I am far too sober to imagine.

  “Rain,” she says, noticing my confusion. “They… came back a couple hours after us. They sounded…”

  “Wasted,” I finish, groaning as realization hits me. “Oh… I think I forgot that message I was supposed to send.”

  “Can we…?”

  “Yeah, no, sorry,” I cut her off, already retreating to sit on the edge of my bed. I leave the door open, and she steps inside, quietly closing it behind her.

  Sitting on the edge of a long dresser, Pyrrha takes a moment, clearly choosing her words carefully.

  “I thought about what you said,” she begins. “You’re right. I wouldn’t want to get into Beacon just because someone else decided to give me their place.”

  “And that means…?”

  “That means I’ll join your team,” she says. “Once I’ve earned it. I don’t want you to hand this opportunity to me—or to Weiss, for that matter. She’s my friend, and I promised I wouldn’t abandon her. So, I’ll do my best to stay by her side, no matter what.”

  Her resolve is genuinely comforting, and for a moment, we simply share a glance. A soft chime interrupts the silence, and Pyrrha quickly pulls out her scroll.

  “Oh! It’s… Weiss?” she says, her brows furrowing with worry.

  I grin. “Wanna give her the good news? I don’t think we ever mentioned you two could join the team. She’ll probably hate it.”

  Pyrrha hesitates for just a second before her expression softens into a smile. “You know what? Let’s do it together.”

  The second she accepts the call and puts it on speaker, Weiss’s unmistakable, slurred voice fills the room. “Beeeeestieeeee! I’ve… Ugh… I’ve got soooo much to tell you…”

  I can almost feel the scent of puke.

  “Y-Yes, me too. I’m here with Vesper, and—”

  “Ugh! Vesper… That guy thinks he’s soooo cool, just because he… Ugh… he has a team. And a Faunus. Well, I have one too!”

  “A Faunus?”

  “No, dummy! A team! Like… I met this reeeeally nice girl, and she immediately saw how awesome I am, so… now I’ll just have to find the little rat that almost got me expelled and put her in her place!”

  Pyrrha inhales deeply, clearly bracing herself to respond, but before she can get a word out, the call ends with a sharp beep—no goodbye, no explanation.

  The effort it takes not to laugh is titanic, monumental. I press my lips together and glance at Pyrrha, who just looks thoroughly defeated. But somehow, the red-haired girl manages to collect herself, setting her scroll down with a careful, almost meditative motion before striding out of the room.

  “Vesper?” she calls, her voice tinged with concern.

  “Yes?” I reply, already getting up to follow.

  When I catch up to her in the middle of the hallway, I find her standing still, her gaze sweeping over the scene before her. She points at one room, where someone is sound asleep, snoring faintly. Then another, where someone else is equally out cold, their arm dangling off the side of the bed.

  “If Weiss isn’t…” Pyrrha begins, her voice trailing off as she turns to me.

  “Welcome to the team,” I say with a shrug.

  I turn around and head back to bed.