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You sat and watched.
On the bleachers at the edge of the training space – a gym reserved for the students of the academy. It was empty at this hour of the morning. No young man or woman was silly enough to awaken at the crack of dawn and train their hearts out.
Unless they were her.
Pyrrha Nikos was not just a student – she was the school's idol. A girl who stood head and shoulders above everyone else. Her skill in battle is unmatched, her dedication to the creed of the school constant, and her looks... they certainly draw more than a few stares. Her deep red hair, chiselled body... you were infatuated. But who wasn't? She practically has her own fan club.
She stood still, not a single ounce of struggle in her posture despite the movement's she has already gone through, her muscles not willing to give way and compromise. Every morning Pyrrha would come to the gym and perform a series of combat stances and attacks. And you'd started to come watch her do it.
She moves, her feet letting out loud screeches as they drag against the shiny floor. She thrusts, her spear cutting through the air and stabbing itself into an invisible enemy. She retreats, thrusts, and swings. Over and over. Her dance is perfect. Her body exhumes sweat. She isn't wearing her armor like usual, instead she bares a training bra and leggings.
She stops. The spear retracts and is placed back into an idle position. She stands there and sucks in deep breaths of air. She then turns of her heel and approaches you. "Good morning," she greets curtly, politely, without an ounce of emotion on her face.
"Good morning."
"Did you come here to train?"
You lean back and shrug, "I think I'd just embarrass myself, especially after seeing you do it."
Pyrrha crosses her arms, "Consider it payment for your observation, let me see your form." She sounds halfway between joking and being angry. It's hard to tell sometimes. You lean over and pull your own weapon from underneath the bench. It shimmers in the light. "What is it?" You brush away some dust and debris from the ground below.
"It was my father's; he was a great huntsman. He insisted that I take it and learn to use it... He has a big head, doesn't he?"
Pyrrha seems to disagree, "Perhaps he merely thinks that it will serve you well, like it did him."
"I'm not saying it's a bad thing. He deserves to boast every once in a while." You stood from the bench and unfolded it to it's full form. A mechanical crossbow with two long, curved blades on either side. It was a mockery of a real bow and arrow – with no strings. It could be mounted to the arm or used as a more traditional weapon. The force of the bolts could pin a Grimm to a wall with ease. This wasn't a revolver, not at all.
"My father is a dirty fighter – he says that firing first is the most important thing. You know, the first time I shot this thing - it dislocated my arm."
Her concern is visible and evident, "That sounds..."
"It was my fault, I didn't listen to his advice and tried to use it when I wasn't ready. If I'd listened, we wouldn't have had to travel to the hospital to put it back." That was your first and only lesson in humility from your father.
You mount the weapon on your arm and adopt a basic stance. You begin to go through the forms that he'd taught you. But compared to a more versatile weapon like Pyrrha's lance there was little of interest to see. This was not an elegant weapon, nor was it one with an established history of usage. It was something that your father threw together in his garage.
"Hm... it seems that your melee skills are left wanting."
You stop and stand up straight, you hold up the bracer with a smile. "To be honest, my dad said that he rarely used these blades anyway. It was for stabbing the occasional Grimm when they got too close." The blades reflect the morning sunlight. They're in good condition despite their age, yet another indicator of their lack of use. You turn to the red headed girl and hold out your palm, "I don't suppose you have any bright ideas?"
She crosses her arms and taps her foot, "I've seen similar curved weapons at my previous school... but that arm mount will inhibit your fighting ability."
"Maybe I should just get a backup weapon. It'd be more practical to draw another sword then try to use this."
She shakes her head, "I'm certain that you can make this work. You just have to find the right inspiration. There are some weapons far more unwieldy than yours."
"Inspiration?"
"Yes, in Argus an upperclassman taught me a lot about using a polearm. Before then... my combat grades... weren't the best." She admits, the hesitation in her voice telling you a lot more than she intended.
"The one and only Pyrrha Nikos having bad grades? I've heard everything." She blushes slightly and slaps your arm as if to tell you to keep it a secret. "Well, I'll keep an eye out for inspiration... whatever that is. To me it sounds like they just tutored you."
She nods, "They did, but I admired their skill. I tried imitating them before asking them. Instead of watching me, you should go watch some of the other students."
Your shoulders slump, "Is this you telling me to stop perving?"
She sighs, "Just go."
Her good nature meant that you couldn't just ignore her advice. You like her. But you also trust her, and you want your grades to be good. So the next day you forwent your usual schedule of hanging out in the gym and walked into the courtyard an hour later. Pyrrha got up at a ridiculous hour. Most of the other students woke up a bit before doing morning training.
Turnout has been depressed by the brisk weather. You rub your hands together to try and will some movement into them. The students who preferred to practice out in the cold were the most dedicated and the most talented, in your opinion anyway. There are several people out on the grass, some barefoot, others wrapped from head to toe.
You find a spot on a nearby bench and watch, just like Pyrrha asked you to. But you don't feel inspired just yet. A sword users stabs the air in front of them, a gun user practices uses holographic targets – none of them leap out at you at first. But out of the corner of your eye you see another challenger enter the field. He's a shorter huntsman with black hair. He's wearing nothing but a tank top and sandals. He must be freezing!
What really grabs your attention is when he discards his weapon onto the ground and adopts a hand to hand stance. Marital arts? Not useful for a huntsman or huntress. That kind of unnamed power simply isn't achievable, not against a Grimm. That doesn't seem to have deterred him.
His body is loose, rolling muscles like waves. He steps backwards and forwards like he's dancing, but he's always in total control. You watch enraptured for several minutes as he completes his warmup exercise. Then he begins in earnest. Sweat flies from his body as he delivers a series of hard blows to an invisible opponent.
Despite the looseness of his form – the impacts are no less powerful. He strikes, retreats back with his footwork, using the momentum of his body to carry his weight, and then dips back in with a turn of his heel to strike again. The cycle continues. A casual observer would probably believe that he was drunk, but it's anything but. This is the peak of a battle stance.
Before you know it, you're standing beside him.
He looks at you with the corner of his eye, "Can I help you?"
"If you want." He leans down and picks up his weapon. A short sword, it's handle wrapped with red cloth. You step back and give him space as he begins again. It's different this time, but it's clear that his training has allowed him to develop a unique style of swordsmanship. The flowing steps and strong strikes of his hand to hand combat have transferred over to his weapon.
He stops again. "So, what do you want?" It seems that he's very to the point.
"Pyrrha told me to come out here and get inspired."
"Hoh, and what does that mean?"
"It means that you're the lucky guy who did. Congrats."
He sucks in a breath, wiping away the sweat with his forearm. "You want me to... teach you?"
"If you want."
"And what do I get out of it?"
"...I'll buy you a drink."
Huang was a hard ass. You thought that Pyrrha took herself seriously. Huang was a slave driver. He woke you up at the crack of dawn every day and dragged you to his favourite spot to teach you the basics. Your offer of a drink after every session was enough to convince him somehow. You couldn't take a step wrong with Huang correcting you. He wanted you to be perfect. This is what you asked for, you guess.
At first you were clumsy, it didn't work. Your stiff muscles meant that you'd lose balance, trip or fall when trying to emulate his techniques. So instead you spent many days training yourself to relax during a fight. After you drilled that into your brain, it was time to learn how to follow his footwork. You noticed Pyrrha watching you occasionally. But she never approached you during your training time. And since you were in different classes – you didn't speak.
It took months of dedicated training until Huang eased up. In his own words, "The fundamentals are non-negotiable – when it comes to your weapon though, that is something that you decide for yourself." He nearly had a heart attack when he saw it, "So... inelegant. Is this what you've pilloried me for?"
"There was no way to use this thing before," Huang takes the crossbow from you and bounces it up and down in his arms. He holds it in the palm of his hand, it's too heavy to use it like that, but Huang is satisfied with what he feels.
"It is balanced at least. But the curvature of these blades... your awareness will have to be great. Unless you wish to cut your own head, rather than the enemy's." He hands it back. "I have a suggestion."
"What?"
"Remove the brace. This is a bow, even if it's mechanical, you must be able to rotate this during a fight. Being unable to adjust your grip is ill advised."
You nod.
"And secondly, I know somebody who you might want to talk to. She's a brilliant bowman. She can teach you a technique that I think will serve you well. And if all else fails, consider exchanging these blades of yours for something... straighter."
Huang's friend was a bow user named Qui Hai. He asked her very nicely to let you sit in on her own training. It was fairly simple – but the ceremony that she performed before each shot was lengthy and intricate. Phwip! Another arrow flies towards the target, but your eye isn't on the arrow. It's on her hands. As she releases, she allows the bow to fall around her fingers, rapidly altering its position.
Huang leans in, "That is a traditional bow stance, passed around our old academy by our teacher."
"And how does it help me?"
"It doesn't, it's useless in combat. But I'd like you to take it in anyway, because your weapon isn't just a bow, is it? It is a blade too."
"So if I don't have a brace on..."
"You can shift your grip like she does, and the momentum allows you to move into your stance."
You feel like a lightbulb has turned on inside your brain. "Huang, you might be a genius."
He bows his head slightly, "Oh, thank you."
"When she's finished, thank her for me. I'm going to see someone." You shuffle out of the dojo and into the hall. You dash through the corridors before eventually reaching the dorms. You bang on the door. It peels open, a silver eye emerging through the crack.
"Ruby?"
She pulls the door open, "Nice to see you! What... brings you here?" You push past her into the room and swivel on your heel.
"I need your help with something, and the school's shop is closed."
Ruby seems bashful, "That might be Yang's fault."
You lay the bow-blade onto the ground. The leather bracer still attached to a thin wooden bridge. "Ooooo! Cool weapon!"
"I need advice, and who better to ask then the year's resident weapon nut?"
"I'm not a nut..."
Ruby is practically salivating at the sight of it. She pours over the construction while you outline the changes you want to make. "I want to get rid of this strap here and replace it with a thicker handle, one that I can really grip onto. And these parts here, I want handles there too so I can get a double handed grip."
"Hm, hm. I could do that for you."
"Great, I'll buy you a drink for it."
On the way out you bump into Pyrrha. "Oh, hey!"
Pyrrha seems surprised to see you, "What are you doing here?"
"Just asking Ruby for a favour. Hey, that advice you gave me was right on the mark! I've completely changed the way I fight for the better."
She smiles, "I'm glad to see that. I saw you with Huang. He's a very good fighter. To be honest... I've kind of missed your company in the morning."
"I've seen you a few times, don't be afraid to come by and say hello. It's revenge for when I did it to you." Pyrrha giggles and nods.
"I will."
Ruby modified your weapon so that you could hold it in multiple positions, which made incorporating it into Huang's style much easier. And you got just a little bit closer to Pyrrha in the process.
You and Huang have formed a strong friendship since the end of your partnership. And Pyrrha had kept true to her word and started to talk to you more. It'd be a lie to say that you weren't attracted to her. But you're not going to push your luck any further.
Speaking of which, Pyrrha is currently sat across from you in the library.
"You're good at giving out advice – have you ever considered becoming a teacher?"
She shakes her head, "No. I enjoy being in the field the most."
"Alright, since you helped me with my combat skills, I'm going to help you with something in return."
She seems unconvinced, "What could you help me with? It's not a secret that I'm at the top of my class. You don't need to pay me back for anything."
You think for a moment, "Romance!"
She shakes her head, "Romance? Forgive me, but you aren't exactly a lady killer."
You shrug, "I'm just offering my male perspective!"
"I'm well aware of what the male perspective is, thank you. Because it usually means that they're all watching me." Pyrrha puts her book down, "You'd know."
"I'm not a subtle person. Sorry."
"As long as you mean it."
You open your bag and pull out your report card, "Stocks are up. Look at this." You point to the practical combat unit on your report, which has skyrocketed from a C- to an A. "The teacher's eyes nearly fell out of his head when I showed off what I could do."
Pyrrha picks through your grades with a fine comb, "But what about your Grimm studies? And your history grades... and what in the world is happening with your camping and survival?" Every comment is another blow to your ego.
"I may have been neglecting some of them..."
Pyrrha pushes the sheet back over the table. "You're going to need to study, a lot." You blow a puff of air through your teeth.
"I don't think inspiration is going to help me here, I need motivation!" You sit up straight and slap your chest. That kind of hurt. Pyrrha looks back down to her book. "You have any good ideas? You're full of them."
"Set a target and reward yourself if you hit it. That's what I like to do."
What kind of reward could you give yourself? You're not wanting for much right now – you spend most of your money on living expenses and most of your time training and studying. Suddenly a devious idea comes to mind. You chuckle to yourself, Pyrrha looks back up. "What?"
"Nothing, I just thought of something great!"
"And what is it?"
You motion zipping your lips closed, "Not telling."
Pyrrha leans over and puts a book onto your side of the table. "Modern Survival – living in the wild."
"If you want to get... whatever it is, you better get started."
"Alright study buddy. Let's get this over with."
"Please just call me Pyrrha."
Weeks and weeks of study had followed. Pyrrha couldn't always be there to help you out – so you had to go a lot of it on your own. Pyrrha walked into the library to see you, with your feet up, kicking back and relaxing.
"Good morning."
"Good morning Pyrrha."
She eyes you suspiciously before sitting down in her usual spot. "How did your report go?"
You smile, sliding over the folded piece of paper. Pyrrha peels it open and scrutinizes it for nearly two minutes. "I don't believe it."
"I'm wounded, really."
"No, I seriously don't. What did you do?"
"I asked very nicely. Oh yeah, and I studied by butt off for three weeks straight."
Pyrrha puts the report down and smiles. "Can't argue with that, well done."
"And now, it's time to reward myself! It's all or nothing time."
Pyrrha frowns, "What do you mean?"
You stand from your chair and straighten out your clothes, this is it; the moment of truth has finally arrived. "Pyrrha, will you go to the dance with me?"
Pyrrha's face blooms with a red colour more similar to her hair than her skin. "W-what?!"
"Well, I told myself that if I got my grades up, I'd ask you to the dance."
Pyrrha seems sullen, "I don't know..."
"Don't feel obligated. I know you probably got asked by every man, and at least a few women – in the academy."
"Actually, most of them are too scared to try." Pyrrha turns away, "Why do you want to take me? Because I'm pretty? Because I'm talented?"
"No, because... you helped me out. And I have a lot of fun when we spend time together."
Pyrrha agonizes over your question for a while. But she eventually turns and points at you, "I'll let you come with me. But you've got to keep your grades up, okay?"
"Let me?" you ask, questioning her choice of words. It's begrudging, but the crooked smirk on her face tells you that she's bluffing. She just doesn't want to come out and agree wholesale. "Fine, I'll blow you away. Just watch me." You pump your fist.
"I will."