Andy's Point of View

"I see you've decided to join us." I said as Alex, Yang, and Ruby approached the table.

Each of them carried a tray loaded with breakfast.

Well.

Ruby's was loaded.

Alex's looked like enough food to feed a small village.

Yang's was somewhere in between.

The three set their trays down and took their seats.

"I got roped into morning exercise with Yang." Alex said, rolling his eyes as he stabbed a piece of bacon with his fork.

"You say that like I held you at gunpoint." Yang replied.

"You practically did."

"I invited you."

"You manipulated me."

Yang looked proud of herself.

"Same thing."

"That's concerning."

"That's friendship."

Alex groaned.

I chuckled.

"Sounds about right."

Yang took a bite of her eggs.

"He also tricked Nora and started reciting poetry."

I nearly dropped my fork.

Slowly, I turned toward Alex.

"You didn't."

Poetry wasn't really my thing.

Never had been.

But I'd known Alex long enough to know where this was going.

"He did." Ruby confirmed.

"Multiple times." Yang added.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes." Yang replied.

Francine looked between us.

"What? You're acting like he committed a crime."

"He basically did." I said.

Alex pointed at me.

"Traitor."

"Realist."

Francine raised an eyebrow.

"What's so bad about him writing poetry?"

"Nothing." I replied.

"Then why are you all acting weird?"

I pointed my fork toward Alex.

"Because his poetry isn't normal."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means the guy writes like he's a retired philosopher reflecting on fifty years of regret."

Alex looked offended.

"I do not."

"You absolutely do."

Yang immediately nodded.

"Actually, yeah."

Ruby pointed at him.

"That's weirdly accurate."

Alex looked around the table.

"Why am I being attacked?"

"Because we're right." I answered.

Weiss rolled her eyes.

"It can't possibly be that bad."

I immediately pointed at her.

"Congratulations."

"What?"

"You just made a mistake."

Weiss frowned.

"I fail to see..."

"Winter's white runs in thy blood, thy heart frost-bound. Not nature's doing, but the chill of a king's neglect. For thou wert born beneath a roof of ice, where love was rationed like a coin too precious to be spent, and duty alone was given freely.

Yet mark this. Frost is not thy nature, only thy inheritance.

The white that runs in thee may yet be snow that falls to cover wounds, not ice that seals them shut.

Thou canst wear the name thy father broke, and make of it a blade he never could have forged. Tempered not in his cold, but in fire of thine own making.

For a king may freeze his kingdom and call it order. But a daughter who thaws, and still stands? She is no king's creation.

She is her own."

The table fell silent.

Alex hadn't even looked up from his breakfast.

He spoke the entire thing while calmly cutting into his food.

Like he'd merely been reading a grocery list.

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

Ruby stared.

Yang blinked.

Jaune looked completely lost.

Pyrrha's eyebrows had climbed halfway up her forehead.

Ren quietly lowered his cup of tea.

Alexa looked confused but impressed.

Francine's mouth hung slightly open.

And Weiss...

Weiss looked like someone had physically unplugged her brain.

She sat perfectly still.

Fork frozen halfway to her mouth.

Eyes wide.

Speechless.

Which, considering it was Weiss, was impressive.

A full five seconds passed.

Then ten.

Nobody said a word.

Finally, Weiss found her voice.

"...What?"

Alex looked up from his plate.

"What?"

"You just..."

"Had breakfast?"

"No!"

Weiss pointed at him.

"That!"

Alex blinked.

"Oh."

"'Oh?'" Weiss repeated.

"Yeah."

The idiot actually looked confused.

As though he couldn't understand why everyone was staring at him.

I sighed.

Then pointed at him.

"See?"

Francine slowly nodded.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Now you understand."

Alex looked around the table.

Then at Weiss.

Then back at his breakfast.

"Are y'all done being weird?"

The collective groan that followed shook the entire table.

"Oh! Do one for Blake!" Nora said, pointing excitedly across the table.

A collective groan immediately followed.

"I see you're back." Alex deadpanned.

"Miss me?"

"No."

"Aww."

Nora ignored him and turned toward Blake.

"Come on! Do Blake!"

"Please don't." I pleaded.

Alex looked entirely too amused by my suffering.

Then, unfortunately, he turned his attention toward Blake.

"Hmmm."

The thoughtful hum immediately made Blake suspicious.

"Alex."

"Hmmm."

"Alex."

He rested his chin on one hand.

Still thinking.

"Please stop."

"Can't."

"You absolutely can."

"Too late."

Blake sighed and closed her book.

The fact she'd put the book down was the first sign things were about to go horribly wrong.

The entire table went quiet.

Even Nora.

Which was honestly impressive.

Alex looked at Blake for a few moments.

Not staring.

Just observing.

Then he spoke.

"Beauty dwells within thy heart, yet thy heart is bound in thorns, that none may pass within.

Thou hidest from thy past and wearest it as thy shield, as though a wound concealed could no longer cut.

Amber eyes watch as thou livest half a life, caught betwixt the cage thou fled and the freedom thou hast yet to claim.

For thou wert taught that running is its own kind of courage, yet courage spent in flight is still, in the end, a kind of chain.

Let down the thorns and find, not that thy past cannot follow, but that thou art no longer what it made thee.

Thy shield was never thy heart's protector.

It was only thy heart's jailer, clad in armor borrowed from thy fear."

Silence.

Complete silence.

The cafeteria around us seemed to vanish.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

Even Nora had gone quiet.

Slowly, every head at the table turned toward Blake.

Blake stared at Alex.

Alex stared right back.

Completely unfazed.

The idiot then took another bite of eggs.

Like he hadn't just dropped an emotional artillery strike onto the table.

Blake blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then a third time.

"You..." She started.

Stopped.

Started again.

"You..."

Alex swallowed.

"Yes?"

Blake stared at him.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

The fact he sounded genuinely confused made it worse.

"That."

Alex thought for a moment.

Then shrugged.

"Words?"

A strangled noise escaped Yang.

Ruby immediately buried her face in her hands.

Pyrrha looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh.

Nora was staring between the two of them like she was watching a tennis match.

I, meanwhile, was considering launching Alex into the nearest wall.

"See?" I said, pointing at him.

Francine slowly nodded.

"Okay, yeah. That's weird."

"Thank you."

"It was good weird."

"Still weird."

Alex looked around the table.

Then at Blake.

Then back to his breakfast.

"What?"

The collective groan that followed was somehow even louder than the last one.

Blake simply continued staring at him.

Alex looked mildly uncomfortable.

Not because of the poem.

But because he couldn't figure out why everyone was looking at him like that.

"Spartan, oh Spartan. Thy smile is given freely unto others, yet thou canst not wear it for thyself, for thou art weary of a fame thou never sought to bear.

Thou didst flee, seeking a life that might be thine own, yet thy past follows still, lingering at thy heels like a blade half sheathed. Never drawn, yet never far from thy throat.

They call thee Invincible and crown thee so in bronze and story, yet none have thought to ask whether the girl beneath the crown still breathes, or if she merely smiles because she hath forgotten how to do otherwise.

For what is a champion who hath never once been asked, 'And what dost thou wish for, when the arena stands empty and the crowd hath gone home?'

Thou camest to Beacon seeking to be ordinary, and found instead a destiny heavier than the one thou fled.

So smile, Spartan.

Smile and let the world see the strength it adores.

But know this. One day the mask and the face beneath it must become one and the same, else thou shalt break thyself trying to hold them apart."

The table fell silent.

Again.

Honestly, at this point I was beginning to think Alex was doing it on purpose.

Pyrrha stared at him.

Alex stared back.

Then, apparently deciding he'd caused enough emotional damage for one morning, he calmly took another bite of breakfast.

The silence somehow became even more uncomfortable.

Finally, Pyrrha found her voice.

"...Was that one supposed to be about me?"

"Yes."

There wasn't even a hint of hesitation.

Just a simple, matter of fact answer.

Pyrrha blinked.

"You figured all of that out from watching me?"

Alex swallowed his food and set his fork down.

"I pay attention."

"That isn't normal." Yang muttered.

"Neither is half the stuff around this table."

"Fair." Ruby admitted.

Pyrrha continued staring at him.

"Most people don't notice those things."

Alex was quiet for a moment.

Not long.

Just long enough for the humor to fade from his expression.

"Most people aren't looking for them."

The answer caught everyone off guard.

Even me.

Alex glanced down at his plate before continuing.

"People think observation is about seeing what's there."

He shrugged.

"A lot of times it's noticing what's missing."

Nobody interrupted.

Nobody joked.

For once, the entire table listened.

"I notice things because at one point..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "...that was my life."

The joking tone was gone now.

"I got pretty good at recognizing when someone is smiling because they're happy and when they're smiling because they think they're supposed to."

Pyrrha's expression softened.

Across the table, even Weiss looked thoughtful.

Alex leaned back in his chair.

The moment lingered for a few seconds.

Then he pointed his fork at Nora.

"You, however, are exactly as chaotic as you appear."

The entire table erupted into laughter.

The tension shattered instantly.

And just like that, Alex was back to being Alex.

"Why do you always say it in old Valeian?" Alexa asked.

Alex shrugged.

"Because it feels more impactful."

"That isn't a real answer."

"It's the only answer you're getting."

Alexa rolled her eyes.

Across the table, Nora suddenly perked up.

"Ooh! Ooh! Do one about me and Reeny!"

A collective groan immediately followed.

"Please don't." Yang begged.

"I'm with Yang on this one." I added.

"Seconded." Jaune said.

"Thirded." Ruby chimed in.

Nora ignored all of us.

As usual.

Alex sighed.

"You are all cowards."

"We're survivors." Yang corrected.

Alex looked at Nora.

Nora looked back.

The grin on her face could have powered a small city.

Alex sighed again.

Then began.

"Two orphans of one ruin, grown from the same gray ash, yet flowering so differently that none would call them kin.

She is thunder before the storm hath even gathered. Loud and bright and never still, as though silence itself were an enemy she wages war against with every waking breath.

He is the quiet after.

Measured. Watchful. A man who learned long ago that the loudest grief is oft the grief that speaketh not at all.

Yet watch them close and see.

Her thunder always rolleth toward him, and never past him.

His quiet always maketh room for her noise, and never once asketh her to lessen it.

For they buried their home together and swore, though no vow was ever spoken aloud, that what the flames could not finish, they would not finish to each other either.

She waits, as she hath always waited, for words he may never give in the manner she wishes.

But mark this.

A man need not speak his heart when his feet have followed hers through every battle, every fall, every year since the smoke first cleared.

Some hearts are loud.

Some are silent.

But silence, given freely and without end, is its own kind of shout."

The cafeteria seemed to fade away.

Nobody laughed.

Nobody made a joke.

Nobody even moved.

Nora's smile slowly faded.

Not completely.

But enough.

The excitement left her expression, replaced by something quieter.

Something older.

Beside her, Ren remained still.

As still as ever.

But his eyes softened ever so slightly.

The silence stretched.

Then Nora spoke.

"You know?"

The question was unusually quiet.

Alex nodded once.

"I know."

"How?"

For the first time that morning, Alex's expression became serious.

"I helped Professor Ozpin with paperwork during detention."

That immediately earned several confused looks.

"You had detention?" Yang asked.

"Not the point."

"It absolutely is."

"Yang."

"Fine."

Alex shook his head and continued.

"I ended up helping organize student files."

The table went still.

"I came across yours."

Nora lowered her gaze.

"I've come across all of Team JNPR's files. Team RWBY's. Team AFAF's."

He paused.

"I didn't go digging."

The words came out calm and matter-of-fact.

"I wasn't looking for secrets."

Nobody doubted him.

"...But I learned enough."

Nora was quiet.

Ren was quiet.

The rest of us stayed that way too.

After a moment, Alex leaned back in his chair.

"Besides."

Everyone looked at him.

"I didn't need the files to figure out most of it."

Nora blinked.

"What?"

Alex gestured between her and Ren with his fork.

"You two are about as subtle as a train crash."

The tension shattered instantly.

Nora gasped.

Ren sighed.

Yang nearly choked on her drink.

Ruby burst out laughing.

"He's right!"

"He is." Jaune admitted.

"Painfully right." Pyrrha added.

Nora pointed accusingly around the table.

"Traitors! All of you!"

"See?" Alex said, taking another bite of breakfast. "Not subtle."

Even Ren's lips twitched upward at that.

And somehow, that made Nora smile again.

"I suppose that leaves Andy, me, Francine, Jaune, and you." Alexa said.

Alex immediately shook his head.

"Just Jaune."

The answer came so quickly that several of us blinked.

Alexa frowned.

"Huh? Why not?"

Alex took a sip of his coffee.

"Because I said so."

There was no anger in his voice.

No irritation.

Just finality.

The sort that made it clear the discussion was over before it began.

Alexa stared at him for a moment.

Then sighed.

"Very well."

The rest of us exchanged glances.

Nobody pushed the issue.

Even Nora.

Which was saying something.

Instead, everyone's attention shifted toward Jaune.

Unfortunately for him.

Jaune immediately looked nervous.

"Why is everyone looking at me?"

"Because you're next." Nora said.

"Oh."

The color drained from his face.

"Can I decline?"

"No." Nora answered.

"Please?"

"No."

Jaune looked toward Alex.

"Mercy?"

"Denied."

"Wonderful."

Alex rested his elbows on the table.

For a few moments, he simply studied Jaune.

Not in a judgmental way.

Just observing.

Then he began.

"A knight in white, who bears no sword of legend, nor a name yet earned.

No crown rests upon his brow.

No ancient blood singeth in his veins.

Only a man of his word, striving each day to become one worthy of giving it.

Selfless by nature and ever first to offer his hand unto those who have need of it, though his own hands shake and his own heart whispereth that it doth not belong amongst the worthy.

For he came not with strength.

Nor skill.

Nor the certainty of heroes.

Only the will to rise each time he fell, and the stubbornness to call that will his armor.

Others were born to the sword.

He was born to the trying.

And in time, even the trying becometh a strength all its own.

For steel is forged by fire and hammer.

Yet character is forged by failure endured and overcome.

The knight who falleth nine times and standeth the tenth hath learned a courage the gifted were never forced to seek, and thus never found.

For talent may win a battle.

Birth may open a door.

But perseverance...

Perseverance buildeth the man who walketh through it.

So take heart, young knight.

The measure of a warrior hath never been where he began.

Only how far he is willing to travel from there."

Silence.

The now familiar silence settled over the table.

Jaune stared.

Pyrrha stared.

Everyone stared.

Alex calmly continued eating his breakfast.

As though he hadn't just delivered another emotional broadside.

Jaune swallowed.

Once.

Then twice.

"...Okay, that one was actually nice."

"Most of them are." Ruby said.

"That's not helping." Jaune replied.

Pyrrha smiled warmly.

"It's accurate."

Jaune immediately turned red.

"No it isn't."

"It is."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

Nora pointed at Jaune.

"The poem has spoken."

"That isn't how poems work!"

"It is now." Alex replied.

Jaune looked betrayed.

"Why are you helping them?"

"Because it's funny."

"At least he's honest." Ren observed.

"Traitors." Jaune muttered.

The table erupted into laughter.

Even Jaune eventually joined in.

Though he still looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and stay there.

"Why are you so good at poetry?" Alexa asked.

Alex shrugged.

"Used to read a lot of it when I was younger."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Alexa stared at him.

"I don't buy it."

"You don't have to."

"No, seriously." She said. "When you start speaking poetry, you sound wise. Like some old philosopher or wandering sage."

Alex immediately looked suspicious.

"There's a 'but' coming."

"There is."

Alex sighed.

"But when you stop speaking poetry..." Alexa continued. "...you're kind of an idiot."

The table erupted into laughter.

Even Alex snorted.

"Fair."

"That's all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. Defend yourself."

Alex leaned back in his chair.

Then shrugged.

"I learned a long time ago that acting dumber than I am makes life easier."

The laughter faded.

"What?"

Alex glanced around the table.

"People underestimate idiots."

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Less expectations. Less attention. Less pressure."

His gaze drifted toward the cafeteria windows.

"Eventually it just became my default setting."

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Alex stood.

"Anyways, I've got class."

He gathered up his tray, dumped the remains of his breakfast into the trash, and carried the tray and mug to the counter.

"See y'all later."

A few people returned the farewell.

Then he was gone.

The table remained quiet for several seconds.

Finally, Alexa spoke.

"What was that about?"

The question lingered in the air.

I sighed.

"Alex doesn't talk about it much."

Everyone's attention shifted toward me.

"He grew up with a lot of things nobody should have to deal with."

The humor from earlier had completely vanished now.

"He survived abuse. He survived losing people. He survived times when he wasn't sure he wanted to keep going."

Several expressions around the table softened.

"Most of what you see the jokes, the sarcasm, the acting like he doesn't care. That's how he learned to survive."

I glanced toward the cafeteria doors Alex had disappeared through.

"The poetry is probably the closest thing you'll ever get to hearing what he's actually thinking."

Nobody had a response to that.

For once, the table was completely silent.

Which, honestly, was more unsettling than anything else.

Ruby was the first to speak.

"...He never talks about it."

I shook my head.

"He mentions it, but not often."

"But he jokes about everything."

"Exactly."

Ruby frowned.

That answer clearly hadn't helped.

Across the table, Weiss folded her arms.

"That's unhealthy."

"Probably."

"Probably?"

"Alex isn't exactly the poster child for healthy coping mechanisms."

Yang snorted.

"That's putting it mildly."

Several heads turned toward her.

Yang looked down at her plate.

"He sleeps, like, three hours a night."

"What?" Jaune asked.

Yang shrugged.

"Maybe four on a good night."

"That's not enough."

"Tell him that."

"We have." Ruby said.

"Repeatedly." Yang added.

"And?"

Neither answered.

That told everyone enough.

Pyrrha lowered her gaze.

"The poems make more sense now."

The table nodded.

They did.

The thing about Alex's poems wasn't that they were wise.

It was that they felt personal.

Like every line had been written by someone who understood what it was talking about.

Ren, who had been quiet for most of the conversation, finally spoke.

"Pain recognizes pain."

Everyone looked at him.

Ren took a sip of tea.

"People who have suffered often notice it in others."

The room grew quiet again.

Blake glanced toward the cafeteria doors.

"Is that why he notices so much?"

"Partly." I answered.

"Partly?"

I nodded.

"Alex pays attention."

"That's an understatement." Yang muttered.

"No kidding." Ruby agreed.

"He notices things because he wants to."

I leaned back in my chair.

"Alex will most likely be the first one to notice if something was wrong."

"Really?" Francine asked.

"Yeah."

I smiled faintly.

"He notices."

Alexa frowned.

"That sounds exhausting."

"It probably is."

The thought had crossed my mind more than once.

Weiss looked thoughtful.

"So all those poems..."

"Were observations." Ren finished.

"Pretty much."

Nora poked at her pancakes.

For once, she wasn't smiling.

"That's kinda sad."

Nobody disagreed.

After a moment, Ruby looked down at the table.

"Do you think he knows?"

"Knows what?" Yang asked.

"How much we care about him."

The question caught everyone off guard.

Silence followed.

A long silence.

Then I sighed.

"Honestly?"

Ruby nodded.

"Probably not."

Several people looked surprised.

I wasn't.

Alex had always been that way.

Good at helping others.

Terrible at accepting help himself.

"Why?" Pyrrha asked softly.

I thought about it.

Then shrugged.

"Because when you've spent enough years believing you're alone, it takes a while before you start believing otherwise."

Nobody spoke.

Not immediately.

Then Nora suddenly stood up.

The sudden movement made everyone jump.

"I'm gonna hug him."

The declaration echoed across the table.

Yang blinked.

Ruby blinked.

Ren closed his eyes.

"Nora."

"What?"

"Don't."

"Why?"

Ren sighed.

"Because he'll run."

Nora paused.

Then nodded.

"Fair."

"Very fair." Yang agreed.

Ruby laughed despite herself.

The mood lightened slightly.

Not completely.

But enough.

I couldn't help smiling.

Because that was the thing about Alex.

No matter how hard he tried to keep people at arm's length.

No matter how much he hid behind jokes, sarcasm, and that laid-back attitude.

People still cared.

Whether he believed it or not.

I checked the time and immediately groaned.

"Well, unless someone's figured out how to stop time, we'd better move." I said, standing from my chair. "Class starts in five minutes."

The effect was immediate.

Every student at the table looked up.

Then toward the clock.

Then back toward the clock.

Then panic set in.

"Oh no." Ruby whispered.

"Oh yes." Yang replied.

Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone stood.

Breakfasts were abandoned.

Drinks were hastily finished.

Nora shoved the remainder of her pancakes into her mouth.

"Norah, chew." Ren said.

"Mmph."

"Chew."

"Mmph."

"Nora."

A few moments later she swallowed.

"There."

"That wasn't chewing."

"It worked."

Ren sighed.

Beside me, Francine was already gathering her books.

"How are we late already?" she asked.

"We spent thirty minutes listening to Alex psychologically profile everyone at the table." I replied.

"That was thirty minutes?"

"Apparently."

Weiss looked horrified.

"Thirty minutes?"

Pyrrha nodded.

"It didn't feel that long."

"That's because everyone was too busy having an existential crisis." Yang said.

"Speak for yourself." Blake muttered.

"You stared into space for five minutes."

"I was thinking."

"Uh huh."

Blake narrowed her eyes.

Yang grinned.

Ruby, meanwhile, was frantically gathering her things.

"Where's Crescent Rose?"

"Locker room." Yang answered.

"Oh."

"Where's your notebook?"

Ruby froze.

"...Our room."

"Your homework?"

"...Our room."

Yang patted her shoulder.

"Good luck."

"Why are you like this?"

"Genetics."

Ruby groaned.

The group finally began moving toward the cafeteria exit.

The morning crowd had thickened considerably.

Students filled the halls outside.

Most looked half-awake.

Others were already discussing assignments.

A few upperclassmen passed by carrying training gear.

The usual Beacon chaos.

As we stepped into the hallway, I noticed a familiar figure leaning against the wall.

Alex.

Of course it was Alex.

The idiot was casually sipping coffee from a travel mug.

Completely relaxed.

Completely on time.

And completely unsurprised by the stampede emerging from the cafeteria.

"Morning." He said.

"Morning?" Yang repeated.

"Morning."

"Class starts in five minutes!"

Alex looked at the clock.

Then at us.

"Correct."

Ruby pointed at him.

"Why are you calm?"

"Because I left twenty minutes ago."

"Then why are you still here?"

Alex shrugged.

"Wanted coffee."

The travel mug rose slightly in emphasis.

I closed my eyes.

Of course.

"Everyone panicked." I informed him.

"I noticed."

"You caused that."

"No, the clock caused that."

"That isn't how that works."

"Agree to disagree."

Several people groaned.

Alex smiled into his coffee.

"Anyways, y'all done standing around?"

He pushed off the wall.

"Let's get to class."

Class in Professor Oobleck's room was usually an exercise in survival.

Not because the material was difficult.

Not because the professor was bad at teaching.

But because the man spoke at a speed that seemed to violate several laws of nature.

Most students could barely keep up with him.

Alex, however, never seemed to have a problem.

Apparently years of listening to auctioneers, fast-talking commentators, and videos played at double, triple, or even quadruple speed had trained his brain for exactly this kind of nonsense.

Today, thankfully, Professor Oobleck was speaking at a pace the rest of us could actually understand.

Which meant the class was learning something instead of desperately trying to decipher verbal machine gun fire.

Professor Oobleck paced before the classroom, a history book tucked beneath one arm.

"...And then their mysterious savior engaged the enemy in close combat." He continued. "The Faunus Captain, Eliza Moore, later wrote that the figure fought like something from legend itself. Ice and fire cloaked his hands, while lightning coursed along the length of his blade."

Several students looked up from their notes.

Even Professor Oobleck seemed animated by the story.

"His armor was unlike anything the defenders had ever seen. Strange in design, foreign in construction, and bearing no markings known to any kingdom of the era."

The professor adjusted his glasses.

"The mystery only deepened after the battle."

He paused for effect.

"For when the warrior finally revealed himself, he claimed to be human. Furthermore, he stated that he hailed from a distant nation. One founded upon the belief that all people stood equal, regardless of birth, title, wealth, or race."

A few students exchanged surprised glances.

Professor Oobleck smiled.

"A rather radical idea for the time."

He resumed pacing.

"Yet according to every surviving account, he held to that belief with remarkable conviction. Human and Faunus alike were treated no differently by him. To those he aided, it mattered little what they were. Only that they needed help."

The classroom remained quiet as students scribbled notes onto paper.

Well.

Most students.

Several looked half asleep.

Others looked completely lost.

A few were desperately trying to keep up with Oobleck's pace.

Even when he was speaking slowly.

"Now then!" Professor Oobleck exclaimed, spinning toward the blackboard. "Can anyone tell me why this account is considered significant by modern historians?"

Several hands immediately shot up.

Pyrrha's.

Weiss's.

Blake's.

A few others.

Professor Oobleck pointed.

"Miss Schnee!"

Weiss straightened in her chair.

"The account is one of the earliest documented examples of a human fighting alongside Faunus forces during the Great War. Particularly at a time when tensions between different peoples were significantly higher than they are today."

"Excellent!" Oobleck replied.

Weiss looked pleased with herself.

Professor Oobleck immediately pointed elsewhere.

"Miss Belladonna!"

Blake lowered her book.

"The account also challenges many of the assumptions held during that period. Most military records from the era categorized individuals by nationality, kingdom, or race. Captain Moore's writings focused primarily on the figure's actions instead."

"Precisely!"

Oobleck practically vibrated with excitement.

"The figure's origins remain mysterious, but the impact of his actions was recorded repeatedly!"

He began pacing again.

"Indeed, several eyewitness accounts from both Human and Faunus soldiers describe remarkably similar events despite being written independently of one another!"

I glanced over toward Alex.

He looked bored.

Not sleepy.

Just bored.

The man was resting his head on one hand while absentmindedly taking notes.

Probably thinking about lunch.

Or coffee.

Or lunch with coffee.

Professor Oobleck continued.

"One account even claims the mysterious warrior carried enough equipment to outfit an entire squad by himself!"

That got a few chuckles.

Even I smiled.

Then I noticed Alex pause.

Just for a second.

His pencil stopped moving.

Then continued.

Huh.

"Another describes him producing supplies seemingly from thin air!"

More laughter.

This time Alex didn't react.

At least not outwardly.

Professor Oobleck adjusted his glasses.

"Most historians believe these details were likely exaggerated by soldiers recounting extraordinary battlefield events."

Several students nodded.

That sounded reasonable.

"However..." Oobleck continued, holding up a finger. "...the consistency of these reports across multiple sources suggests there may be some truth hidden beneath the embellishment."

The professor turned toward the class.

"History is often like that."

He tapped the side of his head.

"A story grows larger with every retelling. Our duty as historians is determining which parts are legend and which parts are fact."

Alex's pencil stopped again.

Only for a moment.

Then resumed.

Interesting.

"Now then!" Oobleck declared. "Who can tell me what happened to this mysterious figure after the Battle of Black Hollow?"

Silence.

The class exchanged glances.

Nobody raised a hand.

Professor Oobleck grinned.

"Excellent!"

We all groaned.

That was never a good sign.

"It means you're paying attention!"

"No it doesn't." Yang muttered.

"Yes it does!"

"No, it means nobody knows."

"Correct!"

Yang blinked.

"Well that's confusing."

Professor Oobleck beamed.

"Because nobody does know!"

A few students perked up.

Oobleck pointed dramatically toward the class.

"The mysterious warrior appears repeatedly throughout Great War records for several years."

He began writing dates across the board.

"Then, quite suddenly, he vanishes."

The room grew a little more attentive.

"Gone."

The chalk tapped against the board.

"No body."

Tap.

"No grave."

Tap.

"No retirement records."

Tap.

"No confirmed sightings after a certain point."

The professor turned around.

"Simply gone."

A murmur spread through the classroom.

Even Alex looked up now.

Not much.

Just enough to show he was listening.

Professor Oobleck smiled.

"And that, class, is where today's lesson truly begins."

The collective groan that followed echoed throughout the room.

Oobleck looked delighted.

"The unidentified figure most often fought alongside Faunus forces." Dr. Oobleck continued, pacing before the classroom. "Records consistently place him among Faunus units rather than Human ones. He fought beside them, treated their wounded, and, according to multiple accounts, even helped bury their dead."

The classroom had grown noticeably quieter.

Even students who normally paid little attention to history were listening now.

Dr. Oobleck adjusted his glasses.

"One particularly famous example occurred during the Battle of Death Hill."

Several students immediately began writing.

"The battle itself was a disaster. Casualties were severe on both sides, and many wounded soldiers were abandoned as the fighting intensified."

He paused.

"According to surviving accounts, the mysterious warrior remained behind after the Faunus withdrawal had begun."

A few students looked surprised.

"He organized the evacuation of the wounded, carried those unable to walk, and personally defended the retreat against advancing Human forces."

The professor tapped a finger against the desk nearest him.

"One report claims he fought for nearly three hours without rest."

A murmur swept through the room.

"Whether that detail is true or not remains a matter of debate." Dr. Oobleck added. "But what is not debated is that hundreds escaped who otherwise would have been left behind."

The room grew still.

"However..." Oobleck continued. "...it would be inaccurate to describe the figure as anti-Human."

That got several curious looks.

"Despite spending most of his recorded military service alongside Faunus forces, he repeatedly demonstrated that his loyalty was not to race, kingdom, or faction."

Professor Oobleck resumed pacing.

"His loyalty, it seems, was to people."

A few students looked thoughtful at that.

"He openly criticized officers, Human and Faunus alike, when he believed their actions were cruel, wasteful, or dishonorable."

The professor smiled faintly.

"On several occasions, military reports note arguments between the warrior and commanding officers whose orders he considered inhumane."

Yang snorted.

"Furthermore..." Oobleck said. "...he was known to assist prisoners of war."

That earned a few surprised expressions.

"He helped treat injured prisoners, shared food with them, and repeatedly argued for humane treatment regardless of which side they had fought for."

The professor stopped pacing.

"Such actions were highly unusual for the era."

His gaze swept across the classroom.

"Remember, class, this was the Great War. Hatred was abundant. Fear was abundant. Mercy was often in short supply."

The room remained silent.

"Yet throughout the surviving records, one theme appears again and again."

He picked up a worn journal from his desk.

"The mysterious warrior judged people not by what they were."

Professor Oobleck opened the journal.

"But by what they did."

The words lingered in the air for several moments before anyone dared speak.

Even the usual classroom whispers had disappeared.

For once, every student was paying attention.

Dr. Oobleck closed the journal with surprising care.

"Now then." He said, adjusting his glasses. "One might reasonably ask why this individual chose to fight almost exclusively alongside Faunus forces despite repeatedly demonstrating concern for Humans as well."

Several hands rose.

Professor Oobleck pointed toward Pyrrha.

"Miss Nikos?"

Pyrrha straightened slightly.

"Perhaps because the Faunus were suffering greater losses and needed the help more?"

"A reasonable theory." Oobleck replied.

He immediately pointed elsewhere.

"Miss Belladonna?"

Blake looked up from her notebook.

"The Faunus were often treated as expendable during the war. If he believed that was wrong, it would explain why he chose to remain with them."

"Excellent."

Blake nodded and returned to her notes.

Professor Oobleck resumed pacing.

"Indeed, many historians have reached similar conclusions."

He stopped beside the blackboard.

"Captain Moore herself wrote that the warrior seemed particularly disturbed by the treatment of wounded Faunus soldiers."

The professor flipped through several pages.

"Ah, here we are."

He cleared his throat.

"'The stranger asked me why some of the wounded were being left behind. When informed that supplies were limited, he became visibly angry and informed me that a soldier's worth was not measured by the shape of their ears.'"

The classroom fell silent.

Even Blake looked mildly surprised.

Professor Oobleck continued.

"'When I reminded him that this was war, he informed me that war was not an excuse to abandon decency.'"

Professor Oobleck continued reading.

"'The stranger possessed a remarkable talent for making enemies of officers. I witnessed him argue with three commanders in a single afternoon and somehow leave with more authority than he began with.'"

The classroom erupted into laughter.

Even Professor Oobleck smiled.

"A trait that appears repeatedly throughout the surviving accounts."

The professor returned to the journal.

"Another recurring theme within the records is that the warrior seemed oddly unconcerned with his own safety."

That got the class's attention again.

"Witnesses repeatedly describe him remaining behind during retreats, volunteering for dangerous assignments, and placing himself between enemy forces and wounded soldiers."

The humor slowly faded.

Professor Oobleck looked down at the journal.

"One entry from Captain Moore simply states:"

He paused.

"'The stranger behaves as though his own life is worth less than everyone else's.'"

The room became quiet.

Really quiet.

The kind of quiet that settles when nobody knows what to say.

Dr. Oobleck didn't seem to notice.

"Historians have debated that statement for decades." The professor said.

"Some interpret it as selflessness."

He turned a page.

"Others interpret it as guilt."

Another page.

"Others still suggest the figure simply possessed an unusually strong sense of duty."

The professor closed the journal.

"The truth, of course, is impossible to know."

The classroom remained silent.

Then Oobleck smiled.

"Which is precisely why historians argue about it."

A collective groan filled the room.

Just like that, the tension broke.

Professor Oobleck looked delighted.

And the lesson continued.

Another twenty minutes passed before the bell rang, its sharp chime cutting through Professor Oobleck's lecture. Like a spell breaking, the class stirred from their notes as the lesson finally came to an end.

"And that..." Professor Oobleck said, snapping his history book shut with a grin. "...is where we shall conclude today's lesson! Be sure to read Chapters Twelve through Fourteen before tomorrow. There will be a quiz!"

A chorus of groans answered him.

"Oh, don't sound so disappointed!" Oobleck replied cheerfully. "History is the foundation upon which the future is built!"

"That doesn't make quizzes any less painful." Yang muttered as she stretched.

Professor Oobleck either didn't hear her or chose not to.

"Class dismissed!"

The room erupted into motion.

Books snapped shut.

Pens disappeared into bags.

Chairs scraped against the floor as students filed toward the door.

I slung my backpack over one shoulder while Francine zipped hers closed.

"What's next?" She asked.

I pulled my schedule from my pocket.

"Combat Theory with Professor Goodwitch."

Francine winced.

"The one who throws people through walls?"

"She prefers the term 'corrective discipline.'"

"I prefer the wall."

"She'd probably throw you through that too."

Francine sighed.

"Fair enough."

Nearby, Team RWBY gathered their things.

Ruby was hurriedly stuffing loose papers into her bag with all the organization of a tornado.

"Ruby." Weiss sighed.

"What?"

"You're crumpling your notes."

"They'll flatten out."

"That isn't how paper works."

"It has for me."

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose.

Across the room, Yang nudged Alex with her elbow.

"So."

"So?"

"You would've argued with those officers, if you were there wouldn't you?"

Alex adjusted the strap of his satchel.

"If they were making poor decisions that got people killed unnecessarily?"

He shrugged.

"Probably."

"I knew it."

"What?"

"You're proving my point."

"I don't know what point you're talking about."

"The history guy."

Alex blinked.

"What history guy?"

"The one Oobleck just spent forty minutes talking about."

"Oh."

Alex shrugged again.

"Maybe."

Yang stared at him.

"That was the least convincing 'maybe' I've ever heard."

"I have many talents."

"Being stubborn is definitely one of them."

"I prefer persistent."

"You would."

"I do."

Yang rolled her eyes, though she was smiling.

"Come on, history nerd."

"Language nerd."

"Same difference."

"It really isn't."

Blake closed her notebook and slid it into her bag.

"You two argue about everything."

"Only the important things." Alex replied.

"Like waffles." Ruby added.

"We are not starting that again." Weiss warned.

"I still maintain..."

"No." Weiss interrupted.

"But..."

"No."

Yang laughed.

"I think Weiss is traumatized."

"I've spent the past week listening to him and Nora debate breakfast foods as though they were negotiating a peace treaty."

"It was an important discussion." Alex said.

"It was breakfast."

"Exactly."

Weiss simply sighed.

"I don't get paid enough for this."

"You don't get paid at all." Blake pointed out.

"That somehow makes it worse."

The group spilled out into the hallway with the rest of Beacon's students.

The corridors buzzed with conversation as everyone made their way toward their next classes.

Some discussed Oobleck's lecture.

Others complained about the upcoming quiz.

A few upperclassmen hurried past, clearly running late.

I checked the time.

"We've got about ten minutes."

"Plenty of time." Jaune said.

Alex glanced down the hallway.

"Depends."

"On what?"

He pointed.

Making her way toward us was Professor Goodwitch.

Clipboard in hand.

Expression as stern as ever.

Alex sighed.

"On whether she sees us first."

As if on cue, Professor Goodwitch looked up.

Her eyes settled on our group.

"There you are."

None of us liked the sound of that.

Not one bit.

"What can we help you with, Teach?" Alex asked, wearing the same easygoing smile he always seemed to have around authority figures.

Professor Goodwitch stopped a few feet in front of us.

Her left eye twitched.

Just once.

"Alex." She said, her voice carrying a dangerous amount of restraint.

Alex tilted his head.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You seem to be in an unusually good mood today."

"I had coffee."

Professor Goodwitch inhaled slowly.

The eye twitched again.

"You still upset about me putting your profile on a dating app?" Alex asked, his tone entirely too cheerful.

Silence.

Professor Goodwitch's hands twitched.

Just slightly.

As though every ounce of self-control she possessed was preventing her from using her Semblance.

Around me, time seemed to stop.

Jaune's jaw slowly dropped.

Ruby blinked.

Yang looked ready to burst into laughter.

Blake lowered her book just enough to stare.

Weiss looked utterly horrified.

Pyrrha simply looked confused.

Ren quietly closed his eyes.

Nora whispered, "...He did what?"

I, meanwhile, could only stare at Alex.

There were fearless people.

There were reckless people.

Then there was Alex.

A man who apparently looked at Professor Goodwitch, Beacon's strictest teacher, and thought, You know what would be funny?

Professor Goodwitch's smile was perfectly polite.

Which somehow made it infinitely more terrifying.

"Alex."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I would advise you to stop speaking."

Alex considered that for exactly half a second.

"...Probably a good idea."

"I am delighted..." Professor Goodwitch replied. "...that we are finally in agreement on something."

"If you say so." Alex said with an easy shrug.

He turned and began walking down the hallway.

Then, as though he had just remembered something, he stopped.

"Oh, by the way..."

Professor Goodwitch closed her eyes.

Slowly.

"What now, Alex?"

Alex smiled.

"You've got a date at seven tonight."

The hallway went completely silent.

"Try not to be late."

Without waiting for a response, Alex gave a casual wave over his shoulder and rounded the corner.

He disappeared from sight just as Professor Goodwitch took a step forward.

She stopped.

A long, very dangerous silence followed.

Around me, nobody moved.

Nobody dared.

Yang bit her lip so hard I thought she was going to draw blood trying not to laugh.

Ruby's shoulders were shaking.

Jaune looked like he was questioning every life decision that had led him to Beacon.

Weiss had both hands over her mouth.

Nora whispered in awe.

"...He's actually still alive."

Ren nodded once.

"For now."

Professor Goodwitch remained perfectly still.

Then she let out a slow, measured breath.

"Alex..."

Her voice was calm.

Far too calm.

"When I find you..."

She didn't finish the sentence.

She didn't need to.

Every student in the hallway instinctively took one step backward.

Even the ones who had no idea what had just happened.

Goodwitch opened her eyes.

The smile she wore was perfectly professional.

"Now then."

She looked directly at the rest of us.

"Would anyone else care to test my patience this morning?"

The collective chorus of "No, Professor!" echoed down the hallway.

Goodwitch gave a single satisfied nod.

"Excellent."

She continued on her way.

Only after she'd disappeared around the opposite corner did Yang finally lose the battle.

She burst into laughter so hard she had to lean against the wall.

"...He's dead." She wheezed.

"No." I muttered, still staring after the hallway Alex had vanished down. "He's just somehow going to survive again."
--------------------
A/N: And done. kuwebby2, what do you think?