Chapter Text
Waiting
The courtyard of Beacon Academy was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the stone pathways. Jaune Arc sat on one of the benches near the fountain, adjusting his tie for what felt like the hundredth time. His blonde hair was neatly combed, and he'd traded his usual hoodie for a button-down shirt that Ruby had insisted made him look "presentable."
He checked his scroll again. 6:30 PM. She was supposed to be here at 6:00.
"Maybe she's just running late," he muttered to himself, watching students pass by in groups, laughing and chatting as they headed to dinner or back to their dorms. The second-year students seemed more confident than he remembered being in his first year – though that wasn't saying much.
It had taken him three weeks to work up the courage to ask Russet Copper out. Three weeks of watching her in Professor Oobleck's history class, admiring how she took meticulous notes with her elegant handwriting, how her red panda tail swished when she got excited about a particularly interesting historical event. She was kind to everyone, always had a gentle smile, and never seemed to judge anyone – unlike some of the other students who still whispered about his fake transcripts from first year. Her auburn hair caught the light just right, and when she laughed, her dark-rimmed eyes sparkled with genuine warmth.
The actual asking had been a disaster. He'd approached her after Combat Studies, palms sweating, rehearsed words tumbling out in a nervous rush. "Hey, Russet, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go to dinner with me? Like, as a date? If you want? You don't have to, obviously, but—"
She'd tilted her head, her tail curling slightly with what he hoped was interest rather than amusement, and said yes. Actually said yes. Jaune had been so shocked he'd nearly walked into a wall.
For the past week, he'd planned everything meticulously. He'd researched the best restaurant in Vale that wasn't too expensive but wasn't too casual either. He'd asked Yang about what girls liked to talk about on dates (she'd given him conflicting advice about being himself versus being mysterious). He'd even gotten a haircut and bought the shirt he was wearing now with his saved allowance money.
Everything was supposed to be perfect.
An hour passed. Then another.
Jaune's optimism gradually faded as the courtyard emptied and the evening air grew cooler. He'd rehearsed conversation topics, planned the route to the restaurant, even practiced pulling out her chair. He'd wanted everything to be gentlemanly, to show that he'd grown since his awkward first year. The reservation he'd made at that cozy little place near the docks was probably being given away to walk-ins by now.
He pulled out his scroll, thumb hovering over Russet's contact information. Maybe he should text her? But what if she was dealing with an emergency? What if her team needed her for something important? The last thing he wanted was to seem pushy or desperate, even though sitting alone in an empty courtyard while dressed up for a date that wasn't happening felt pretty desperate.
By 8:30, even the most dedicated students had retreated indoors. The only sounds were the gentle splash of the fountain and the distant hum of the academy's evening activities. Jaune finally stood, his legs stiff from sitting in the same position for so long. His carefully planned evening – dinner at La Petite Rose, maybe a walk through the Vale gardens afterward, casual conversation that would hopefully lead to a second date – crumbled into disappointment.
Maybe he'd misunderstood. Maybe when Russet said yes, she was just being polite. Maybe he'd gotten the time wrong, or the day, or maybe she'd simply forgotten. The thought that he might have been that forgettable made his chest tighten.
"Guess that's that," he said quietly, straightening his shirt one final time before heading back toward the dormitories.
The walk back to his team's room felt longer than usual. When he opened the door, he found Nora sprawled across her bed, reading a weapons magazine while Ren sat at his desk, quietly working on homework.
"Jauney!" Nora practically launched herself off her bed, grinning widely. "How did the big date go? Did you sweep her off her feet? Did she swoon? I bet she swooned!"
Jaune paused in the doorway, his hand still on the handle. For a moment, he considered making up a story – something about a lovely dinner, interesting conversation, maybe even plans for a second date. But the words wouldn't come.
"It didn't happen," he said simply, his voice flat.
Nora's enthusiasm deflated slightly. "Oh. Did you guys reschedule or—"
"I'm gonna take a shower," Jaune interrupted gently, already moving toward his dresser to grab his toiletries and sleep clothes. He could feel both his teammates' eyes on him, but he didn't elaborate. There wasn't much to say, really.
The hot water felt good against his skin, washing away the disappointment and the cologne he'd put on with such hope earlier. He let himself stand under the spray longer than necessary, watching the steam fog up the small mirror above the sink.
When he returned to the room, Nora had dimmed the lights and both she and Ren were in their beds. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but Ren caught her eye and shook his head almost imperceptibly. Sometimes Jaune forgot how well his teammates knew him.
"Night, guys," he mumbled, pulling his covers up to his chin.
"Goodnight, Jaune," Ren replied softly.
"Sleep tight, fearless leader," Nora added, her voice unusually gentle.
As Jaune closed his eyes, he tried not to think about the empty bench in the courtyard, or the carefully planned evening that never was. Tomorrow would bring new classes, new missions, new opportunities to prove himself as a Huntsman. Tonight, though, he just wanted to forget.
Outside their window, Beacon Academy continued its quiet nighttime rhythm, and somewhere in another dorm room, his date was probably having a perfectly ordinary evening, never knowing that someone had waited for her under the stars.