RWBY: LUCID

"Speaking of dreams. I actually had an odd nightmare last night."

His eyes drifted for a moment, thoughtful.

"It was kind of a weird one too." Jaune mused—almost to himself.

The reaction was instant.

The group all paused mid-bite, fork, or sip. It was subtle almost unnoticeable , but distinct. Like someone had hit pause on the entire table.

"What kind of dream?" Ruby asked, her tone was careful, almost casually cautious.

Jaune blinked, and shrugged, scratching the back of his neck, trying to recall the details. "Uh… it was just a nightmare, really. Nothing too wild. I was being chased. Some… crazy creature-thing was hunting me. It all kind of happened really fast. It was big and wrong-looking. You know, that kind of vibe. It looked closer to a werewolf but..."

Jaune shrugged once again.

There was another moment of stillness.

Jaune didn't miss how their eyes flicked to one another—fast, tiny glances. Barely noticeable. But it was there.

Were they… communicating silently? Or had he just imagined it?

Then, Ren broke the silence with a light nod and a calm smile. "Nightmares happen," he said gently. "Especially when you're somewhere new. Adjusting to a new routine, environment… mind gets restless."

Jaune tilted his head slightly, trying to read Ren's face. It was warm. Calming. But something behind it felt… rehearsed.

Still, he nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense."

Nora piped up with a cheer. "I once dreamed I was trapped in a pancake that kept flipping itself! I woke up craving syrup and existential stability!"

That broke the odd atmosphere—just enough for everyone to smile.

They chatted a little more about dreams after that. Yang joked about dreaming she'd once elbow-dropped a teacher from orbit. Ruby recalled one where Zwei, hers and Yang's dog, ran for mayor. The mood returned to normal—or as normal as their table could manage.

But even as they packed up and got ready to head to class, Jaune couldn't help but glance back once.

He could've sworn something about their reactions hadn't been quite right.

And when the bell rang, he found himself wondering… why that was.

The group immediately began gathering their things.

"Ugh," Ruby groaned dramatically, stuffing her container into her bag. "I can't believe I don't have any classes with you after this, Jaune. What kind of school schedule is this? It's criminal!"

"You'll survive," Yang teased, slinging an arm around her sister's shoulder.

Jaune chuckled. "We'll see each other after classes, don't worry. Not gonna vanish into the void or anything."

"Yet," Ren added mildly.

"Not helping," Jaune muttered.

As they stepped into the courtyard and began splitting off toward their respective classes, Jaune took out his Scroll. "Hey, before we go...Ren, Nora. Mind if we trade contact info?"

"Sure!" Nora chirped, already tapping away on her own Scroll. "Now we can text about pancakes, and dream pancakes!"

Ren offered a faint smile and bumped his Scroll with Jaune's. "It's good to have more people to talk to."

Jaune nodded. Despite how different the two were, their presence together made sense—Nora was like a firework in the midst of an explosion, barely contained. Ren felt like the calm tether that kept her grounded.

There was something steady in the pair's demeanor Jaune found oddly comforting. 

They waved goodbye, and Jaune headed off toward the science building, weaving through the crowd with his bag slung lazily over one shoulder. His next class: Biology.

The room was already partly filled when he arrived, having high counters, overhead screens and glass tanks lining the side walls. The air was cooler here too with a faint hint chemical sterility.

He scanned the room briefly and paused—because there, already seated with her legs crossed and posture pristine, was that pretty girl that Ruby had told him about, Weiss Schnee.

She was engaged in conversation with another girl sitting beside her, a tall redhead with an attractive, athletic build. Her hair was akin to a crimson cascade, tied back in a simple braid, and her skin had a warm ivory tone that practically glowed under the lights.

Something about her felt… vaguely familiar. Jaune couldn't place it. Maybe from a fleeting glimpse in the hallway?

The Schnee girl was mid-sentence, gesturing lightly and her voice low, but clearly in full monologue mode while the redhead nodded along. Her smile was polite, practiced. But it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Jaune had seen that expression many times before. The kind that was worn by checkout cashiers or service agents when a customer rambled on for far too long about gluten-free flour or the merits of organic frosting.

He glanced around. There were plenty of empty seats especially in the back, but none that seemed interesting.

He took a breath, adjusted his collar, and stepped forward.

"Hey," he said to the red-haired girl, nodding toward the empty chair beside her. "Is this seat taken?"

Both girls turned toward him. Weiss blinked in mild surprise and a hint of annoyance, her sentence cut off mid-flow. The redhead's polite smile shifted, just slightly—less strained, a little more curious now.

"No, it's free," she said, her voice warm but measured.

Jaune slid into the seat, offering a small grin. "Cool. Thanks."

He didn't miss the way Weiss glanced between them, her eyes narrowing faintly—as if annoyed that her captive audience had just been stolen. But for now, Jaune just pulled out his phone and notebook, choosing to ignore the look.

He'd figure out who this redhead was later.

Weiss opened her mouth, drawing in a breath, undoubtedly to deliver some refined, eloquent scolding.

But before she could unleash it, the door burst open with theatrical flair.

"Good afternoon, aspiring minds of biological brilliance!"

The voice boomed across the room like a battle cry wrapped in a thesis paper. Jaune flinched. Several students sat up straighter, startled.

Striding in with grand purpose was a man who looked like he belonged on the cover of a vintage adventure novel. One about safari expeditions and odd scientific marvels.

He was built like a circus strongman, broad-shouldered and stout but not overweight. He was packed with dense, sturdy muscle and his gait had a bounce to it, like he was marching to some triumphant tune only he could hear. A thick, magnificent mustache curled over his lip bushy enough that it could probably hide a squirrel.

"To those of you who do not remember, or are new, I am Professor Peter Port," he declared, slapping a palm against his chest as though this fact alone should spark applause. "And welcome back, all of you, to the world of Biological Sciences: Foundations and Phenomena!"

Jaune blinked.

'He's like… Santa Claus if Santa got a gym membership and a PhD.'

Professor Port launched into his lecture with all the energy of a carnival ringmaster, except with more references to digestive systems and fewer elephants.

The topic of the day: Symbiosis and Organismal Relationships.

"The animal kingdom," he boomed, "is a grand tapestry of cooperation, betrayal, and occasionally parasitic horror! Did you know—" he turned dramatically, gesturing at the projection screen "—that the tongue-eating louse, Cymothoa exigua, enters a fish's mouth, attaches to the tongue, and becomes the tongue?! Fascinating, isn't it? Horrifying, yes, but utterly fascinating!"

A few students recoiled. Nora, had she been in this class, would've probably asked if it could be trained to sing karaoke.

"And consider the symbiosis of the cleaner wrasse and the moray eel!" Port continued, clasping his hands behind his back and beginning a long, looping pace around the lab benches. "These tiny fish enter the mouths of giant predators to clean their teeth. And they're not eaten! Trust. Mutual benefit. Dental hygiene! What noble themes!"

He paused before pulling up an image of preserved specimens and gave it a fond pat.

"I once watched a mantis shrimp shatter a crab's carapace with the force of a bullet. Truly, nature's own pugilist. In fact, its punch accelerates faster than a .22 caliber round! And don't get me started on octopi—those sly devils can unscrew jars and solve puzzles. Why, If I had eight limbs, I might've finished my dissertation in half the time!"

Jaune scribbled a few bullet points, alternating between fascination and concern that the man might explode from enthusiasm. Every few minutes, Port would digress into some bizarre animal anecdote before yanking himself back on topic with a dramatic, "Ah, but I digress!"

Despite the rambling, the class was oddly engaging. Jaune found himself enjoying the lesson more than expected. Port's energy made the subject feel alive—wild, even.

He did catch the redhead beside him smiling at one of Port's tangents about how some frogs vomit up their own young after storing them in their stomachs.

Weiss, meanwhile, had her head in her hand, nose wrinkled in half-revulsion.

Jaune leaned slightly to the side, whispering, "So... how many classes does he teach like this?"

The redhead whispered back without looking, "All of them. He's pretty interesting isn't he?"

Jaune hummed in agreement but wasn't sure if that was a warning or an endorsement.

Still, one thing was certain, biology was not boring.

Professor Port seemed to end class the same way he'd started it.

"Remember, young scholars! Life is less about what you dissect, and more about how you dissect it!"

The bell rang and the students made a dash for freedom.

Jaune packed up his notes, glancing once at the redhead beside him. She was already standing, politely nodding to something Weiss was saying as they exited the classroom together. He hesitated, his mouth half-open like he might say something, maybe a belated introduction—but the words were stuck.

She was already gone.

He rubbed the back of his neck and gave himself a mental shove. 'Come on, Arc. Missed opportunity. You'll see her again in the next Biology class. Hopefully.'

Heading through the halls toward his next class, Jaune tried to shake the lingering awkwardness. Philosophy was next. Hopefully that'd be calmer.

When he entered the room, he spotted a few students already seated. They were scattered and quiet, as if the subject itself demanded a sense of stillness. His eyes swept over the rows and locked on someone familiar.

Blake Belladonna.

He recognized her immediately—she was that other cute girl that had been in Chemistry, paired with the bulky, arrogant-looking guy from earlier. What was his name again?

Sardine?

No- Cartin, probably.

Right now, Blake was seated near the window, her dark hair falling in a perfect curtain down her shoulders. She exuded a sharp yet , elegant aura with striking golden eyes that currently carried the weight of a glare.

Not at anyone in particular—just in general.

Her expression seemed to scream: Don't sit near me. Don't talk to me. Don't exist within my orbit.

So of course, Jaune walked right over to her.

He didn't know why. Maybe it was the momentum from earlier. He'd somehow gone the whole day talking to girls who were way out of his league, and it hadn't gone completely horribly. A weird sort of confidence was riding in him.

He stopped by the desk next to her and asked, "Hey, is this seat taken?"

Blake glanced at him, slow and unamused. Her golden eyes narrowed a fraction.

"Seriously?" she asked, gesturing subtly at the sea of unoccupied desks around them.

Jaune blinked, suddenly self-aware and embarrassed. "Oh—uh. Yeah. Sorry. That was dumb. I'll just—"

He'd already started to turn when Blake sighed. "It's fine," she said, voice flat but not cruel. "It's empty."

Jaune paused. "Really?"

She shrugged, not looking at him. "You're the new transfer, right?"

He perked up, surprised. "Yeah! I didn't realize people knew already."

"People talk, and it's also kind of obvious when you are the only new face in class." Blake said simply.

Jaune chuckled a little, scratching the back of his neck as he took the seat beside her. "Right. I'm Jaune, by the way. Jaune Arc."

"Blake."

Her tone wasn't warm, but it wasn't ice-cold either. Neutral really, like someone making peace with a situation.

They exchanged a few more words—basic stuff.

She asked a little about Ansel, what it was like, how it compared to Vale. Jaune explained it the best he could. Blake nodded occasionally, apparently not too bored by the conversation.

A flash of color bloomed from the corner of his eye.

Jaune turned instinctively—and blinked.

It was the redhead girl from earlier. From his biology class.

She stepped into the room, scanning the seating with a brief flick of her bright green eyes. A lot of the closer rows were already full. Her gaze swept the room and paused on him, recognizing him from before.

She made her way over and stopped at the desk beside him.

"Is this seat free?" she asked, her tone warm but a little reserved, hands gently gripping the strap of her bag.

"Yeah—yeah, go ahead!" Jaune said quickly, motioning to it.

Blake raised a brow at the new arrival, but didn't say anything.

The redhead smiled politely and sat down, adjusting her things with a practiced grace. She gave Jaune a small nod. "Nice to see you again."

"You too," he said, still a little surprised. His brain hadn't quite decided whether to be flustered or smug. Maybe both.

"I'm Jaune Arc, by the way. I transferred from Ansel to Vale recently. What's your name?"

Something seemed to flash behind her eyes, perhaps shock or curiosity or maybe even a hint of happiness. Jaune noticed and was wondering why she seemed to surprised. His question wasn't offensive, was it?

"I'm Pyrrha. Pyrrha Nikos. I'm not from Vale either. I'm from Mistral."

Jaune's mind clicked. Pyrrha Nikos.

'Why does that name sound so familiar?'

But before he could ask, the Philosophy professor entered, papers under one arm and a travel mug in the other, humming some tune that probably hadn't been cool since the last century.

Still, Jaune couldn't help but glance at Pyrrha again.