Jaune's Resolve

6 - Depth

He paced dramatically across the stage. "Shapeless shadows of malice, they possess inanimate matter, raising it against us! A tree, a boulder, even an entire pile of debris! Dangerous not for what they are—but what they become! A lesson in potential! A metaphor for greatness—or doom!"

Most students were already tuning him out.

Nora had drawn a little Beowolf doodle in the margin of her notebook and given it googly eyes with her smashing it with her hammer.

Yang was half paying attention, half whispering jokes to Blake. Even Pyrrha was subtly scanning ahead in the book to prep her own notes.

But Jaune?

He was reading.

Actually reading.

If it had been the old him—or younger him if you prefer the term—he might've been fighting the urge to nap, eyes glazed over by Port's bombastic delivery. But this Jaune—this Jaune had been there.

He remembered a Geist they encountered when they were heading to Mistral—also remembered storming into a shattered SDC mines outside Mantle with Team RWBY, his own team, and the Ace Ops.

His first real mission before recieving his own Huntsman License. A dead man's outpost, haunted by rubble and hate.

The Geist had possessed a very sensitive cluster of Dust veins.

And in the end, he remembered how the Ace Ops dismantled the poor Grimm.

So, he studied the page now, scanning for the Geist's behavioral traits, known patterns, and known weaknesses.

Down below, Port paused mid-stride.

His bushy brows furrowed.

'Is that... Jaune Arc?'

'His lowest student in terms to Grades.. is Reading?'

'Not nodding off to sleep?'

'Not sneaking snacks under the desk?'

...

'Interesting..'

Port adjusted his monocle and cleared his throat. "Mister Arc!"

Jaune blinked, lifting his head.

"Yes, Professor?"

Port smiled broadly, like a proud uncle who just watched his nephew stop falling off his bike. "Perhaps you'd care to enlighten the class—tell us, what is the tactical risk when engaging a Geist in confined terrain?"

A few students turned, curious. Even Weiss raised a brow.

Jaune didn't panic. He met Port's eyes and answered calmly.

"If the terrain's too tight, it limits visibility. The Geist doesn't need to see—you do. It can control the environment. Anything around you could become a weapon. If you're boxed in, you're fighting on its terms."

Port blinked. Then he beamed.

"Excellent!" Port barked, raising a triumphant fist. "Marvelously put! Very well said, young man!"

There were a few quiet murmurs—nothing dramatic, just the usual ripple of surprise when the unexpected happens. Jaune caught the flicker of Weiss's raised brow from below. Blake gave the smallest of smiles. Yang smirked, tilting her chair slightly.

And at the very top of the classroom, sitting with his arms crossed and brow furrowed, Cardin Winchester watched silently.

He didn't make a joke, didn't sneer, but just stared.