Later that night, when the house had grown quiet and the city lights flickered faintly in the distance, Tsutsumi slipped out. He wasn't running away, not exactly, but the walls were beginning to feel too still, too safe.
The normal family life was nice… warm, even. But for someone like him, warmth could be dangerous. He feared that if he stayed too long, the world itself would start to reject him again, just like before. Another incident, another betrayal, another reminder that he didn't quite belong anywhere.
And so, he left.
A shimmering wall of light flew by, and he was gone, crossing into another world.
When he reappeared, the air was cleaner, colder. A gentle breeze swept through the rooftop of Beacon Academy's dorms, carrying with it the scent of dawn. The horizon was just beginning to glow, soft gold against deep blue.
"Morning, Tsutsumi."
The familiar, warm voice came from behind him. He tilted his head slightly and caught sight of Pyrrha, her red hair catching the morning light as she climbed up onto the roof with graceful ease.
"Morning…" he replied, his tone calm but distant, his gaze returning to the horizon. The sky was shifting in color, streaks of pink and orange breaking through the clouds.
She walked over and sat beside him, folding her legs and resting her hands on her knees. "How are you doing?" she asked gently, eyes following the sun as it began to rise.
"Better now," Tsutsumi answered quietly, his voice soft, almost sincere. He shifted slightly, as if ready to stand, but stopped when he felt movement beside him.
Pyrrha had lain down next to him, resting on her side, her head turned toward the sky. The faint scent of her hair, like wildflowers carried by the wind, brushed against him as she inched closer, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky.
Tsutsumi: "…"
"That's wonderful," she murmured, a small smile forming on her lips. Then, after a moment of hesitation, she added softly, "Although I don't know exactly what you've been through… if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, I'm more than willing to help."
Her tone was gentle, but sincere. There was no pity in it, just quiet understanding.
"Thanks," Tsutsumi muttered after a pause, his eyes never leaving the drifting clouds. "I'll keep that in mind."
They both fell silent after that, lying side by side on the rooftop. The world around them stirred awake, the wind whispering past, the faint sound of birds in the distance, the slow rhythm of breathing that fell into sync without either of them realizing it.
For a long while, neither spoke. The silence wasn't awkward; it was peaceful.
...
Later that day, the Beacon cafeteria was alive with noise and laughter. The usual chaos of lunchtime surrounded team TNPR and RWBY as they shared a long table near the windows.
Yang and Nora were in their own little world, launching bits of food back and forth with questionable accuracy. A tater tot narrowly missed Ruby's face and splattered harmlessly against Weiss's tray.
"Yang!" Weiss snapped, glaring daggers at her.
Yang only grinned and pointed her fork toward Nora. "She started it!"
"Did not!" Nora shouted back, flinging a piece of broccoli like a grenade.
Meanwhile, Tsutsumi and Ren sat on the quieter side of the table, calmly eating their food in silence. The peaceful energy between them stood in complete contrast to the chaos across from them. Blake sat beside them, quietly reading while nibbling on her lunch, occasionally sighing when a stray bit of food whizzed too close to her book.
Ruby, Weiss, and Pyrrha were chatting animatedly about tomorrow's schedule, their words half-drowned by the background noise.
Then Ruby turned her bright silver eyes toward Tsutsumi, a sudden spark of curiosity lighting her face.
"So, Tsutsumi… are you excited about tomorrow?" she asked with a grin.
Tsutsumi blinked, mid-bite, his expression blank. "…Tomorrow?"
Pyrrha noticed the faint confusion in his tone and smiled patiently. "You didn't forget about tomorrow's exam, right?"
Her gentle question made his gaze shift slightly, that subtle, delayed realization crossing his face. Throughout all the worlds he'd traveled, all the battles, all the encounters… small things like school events often slipped his mind.
The exam, right. The one that would decide which team earned early advancement. A full-team combat test designed to push them to their limits, much like the Vytal Festival matches.
"Oh… that," Tsutsumi muttered after a moment, then calmly went back to eating. "I'll be fine."
He said it without an ounce of hesitation or worry, his tone steady, too steady.
Ruby tilted her head. "You sound really confident."
Weiss scoffed softly. "He probably forgot everything about the exam. Typical."
"Hey, don't jinx it!" Yang said, laughing as she caught another flying dumpling from Nora.
Pyrrha chuckled softly, her emerald eyes studying Tsutsumi with quiet curiosity. "You're not nervous at all, are you?"
"Not really," Tsutsumi replied with a small shrug. "Most of the battles I've been in don't exactly give time to plan ahead. I just adapt."
Ren looked up briefly from his meal, a rare hint of amusement in his voice. "So basically… you're winging it."
Tsutsumi smirked faintly. "More like improvising."
While the two Teams continue with their meal, Tsutsumi mentally pulls out the three Form Ride cards of his team.
...
"Good morning, everyone," Glynda Goodwitch greeted, her voice echoing crisply across the training arena.
Every first-year student was present, gathered in neat formations below the large holographic screen. A few upperclassmen had shown up as well, some seated high up in the stands with crossed arms and judgmental smirks, while others leaned casually against the railings, eager to watch the underclassmen's display.
"Good morning, Professor Goodwitch," the students chorused in unison.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Good. I expect you all to show the same level of coordination during the exam."
The faint murmur of chatter died down as she continued, her heels clicking sharply against the platform.
"As you all know, as Huntsmen-in-training, you are required to undertake missions assigned by the academy. These are designed to provide valuable field experience before you're recognized as fully fledged Huntsmen. Traditionally, first-year students are not permitted to go on missions until completing their first semester. However," her tone sharpened slightly, "today's exam serves as an exception. One exceptional team will be granted the privilege of early placement."
The crowd's energy shifted instantly, students straightened up, eyes widening with excitement and anticipation. The air buzzed with whispers and quick exchanges between teammates.
For first-years, this was huge. Missions weren't just about experience; they were about recognition. They were rare, sought-after opportunities to prove one's worth, and to be chosen meant you were considered special.
But such privileges came with risk. Huntsmen missions were never simple. Many involved Grimm exterminations, rescue operations, or scouting dangerous territories. Even under supervision, the mortality rate for beginners was nothing to scoff at. That thought alone silenced a few over-eager faces.
"And so today," Glynda said, eyes sweeping across the room like a hawk, "I will be evaluating your performance against other teams. The format will follow the standard Mistral Tournament system. Each team will face off in elimination rounds, and you will be matched with opponents of similar scores as the day progresses. The final two teams will compete for first place."
A holographic interface lit up behind her, displaying names of teams from the first-year roster.
"Winning, of course, is important," she continued, her tone steady but firm. "However, your team will also be graded on performance. Even in defeat, a team can still pass. Winning or losing only accounts for twenty-five percent of your grade." She gestured at the chart, a red quarter circle filling in on the display.
"The remaining seventy-five percent will evaluate coordination, communication, personal and team aptitude, and ethics." The remaining sections filled in with blue, green, and yellow. "Your scores," she concluded with a click of her pen, "will be at my discretion."
A few students exchanged nervous glances. Others, Team RWBY and Team TNPR among them, watched silently, their confidence unwavering.
"The standard combat class rules apply. If an individual's Aura drops below the threshold, they are considered out. A team is only fully eliminated when all members are out," Glynda stated clearly. "Now that you are aware of the guidelines, are there any questions before we begin?"
No hands were raised. The silence was almost reverent.
"Very well. You have five minutes before I call the first two teams. Use your time wisely."
A few minutes later…
The holographic board flickered, displaying the first match-up.
TEAM RWBY vs. TEAM CRDL
Glynda's expression remained neutral as she tapped her scroll. "Teams, step forward."
As both teams took the stage, Glynda turned slightly, conferring with Ozpin, who stood beside her, mug of coffee in hand. The headmaster's ever-present calm contrasted her sharp professionalism.
"I see Miss Rose's team has been improving at a remarkable pace," Ozpin remarked. "Wouldn't you agree?"
"I would," Glynda replied, eyes flicking down to her notes. "They've overcome much of their early friction. Miss Rose's leadership has noticeably strengthened. Her coordination with her teammates is... commendable."
Ozpin hummed in approval, sipping from his mug. "For such a young leader, she demonstrates a rather intuitive understanding of team synergy. I suspect she's been studying."
The fight erupted below them, fast, loud, and chaotic.
Team RWBY had seized control from the first second. Ruby's speed and battlefield calls kept everyone moving in perfect sync, while Yang's raw power smashed through Cardin's defensive lines. Blake and Weiss filled the gaps flawlessly, their rhythm seamless.
Ozpin's eyes followed the motion keenly. "So… how long has this fight been going on?" he asked casually.
"Less than a minute," Glynda answered without looking up.
Ozpin blinked. "...A minute?" he repeated, genuinely surprised. "It feels longer."
"It would have ended sooner," she noted dryly, "if not for Mister Winchester's Aura. His durability is... inconvenient."
Ozpin smiled faintly. "Hmm… if they press the advantage, they might actually-"
A sharp cry from the arena cut him off.
Ruby's Crescent Rose cleaved through Russel's defense, shattering the boy's Aura in a burst of light. He dropped instantly, leaving Cardin to face all four girls at once.
Yang's gauntlets roared to life, her haymaker sent Cardin reeling. Blake followed up, striking with perfect precision as Weiss set up the final glyph.
The sound of shattering glass echoed.
"Winner, Team RWBY!" Glynda announced, her voice ringing with authority.
As Team RWBY regrouped, Glynda descended the steps with Ozpin following, a knowing smile hidden behind his mug.
"Well, well," he mused. "They actually did it."
"Well done, you four," Glynda praised, folding her arms. "It's been some time since we've seen such a decisive victory. Clearly, your recent efforts have paid off."
Ruby practically bounced in place, eyes sparkling. Even Weiss allowed herself a subtle, proud smirk. Blake, calm as always, merely brushed her hair aside while Yang pumped her fist with a triumphant grin.
Ozpin chuckled. "You've also set a new school record, by the way."
Ruby blinked. "Wait, what record?"
"Fastest match time," Ozpin said lightly.
Ruby gasped, nearly dropping her weapon. "No flippin' way!"
"Professor Goodwitch," Weiss said, her voice prim and polite as always, "may we see the numbers?"
With a sigh that was almost fond, Glynda turned her tablet around showing that their team had finished their match in just fifty-seven seconds.
Ruby's eyes widened. "NO FRICKIN' WAY!"
"Aww hell yeah!" Yang whooped, throwing her fist in the air.
Weiss straightened proudly, almost glowing. "Thank you, Professor Goodwitch. I knew our efforts would yield excellence."
Blake, ever the picture of calm, merely muttered, "Cool."
Yang gawked at her. "Really, Blakey? That's all you've got? Just cool? C'mon, I gotta teach you how to celebrate right!"
"Yeah," Blake replied evenly, brushing her arm off. "And no thanks."
Yang pouted, ready to retort, but Glynda's sharp cough snapped them back to attention.
"Now, if you're done," she said firmly, "please vacate the arena. We still have several matches to go, and I'd like to finish before the day ends."
Yang chuckled sheepishly. "Heh… right, sorry, Professor."