Ever Happened

Pyrrha Nikos was proud of Jaune lately.

She really was.

After all, his “secret training”—the one he absolutely refused to elaborate on beyond vague nonsense about the ‘sands of Vacuo’ had undeniably made him stronger. Though she’s likely on the side argument that it was his Semblance amping up his fighting experience too.

Making him more confident. More capable. More assured.

Their team functioned better than ever because of that.

And yet…

As Pyrrha watched him casually flirt with an older woman during a street patrol—making her blush and giggle while he gracefully sidestepped her advances with an easy, charming smile—she realized that this was not exactly the Jaune she had expected to become.

This was something… else.

Something strange.

Something concerning.

Jaune’s reputation had changed.

Last year, he was the clumsy goofball leader of JNPR.

Now?

Now he was the “silly yet competent second-year senior”—a term used by first-years who had never seen his true idiocy and only knew the mature, competent, and frankly new and ridiculous version of Jaune Arc as of late.

And that was the problem.

Because, to them, Jaune was not a joke.

He was a charismatic, experienced upperclassman.

A reliable senior.

A broad-shouldered, mature, and ridiculously easygoing guy who somehow commanded respect without trying.

And Pyrrha couldn’t even blame them.

Because physically, Jaune had changed.

His once lanky build had filled out.

His frame had broadened, his posture was stronger, and the easy smile he wore now came with an undercurrent of assurance was a calmness that drew people in.

The first-years ate it up.

They flocked to him, eager for advice, asking him to mentor them, treating him like a cool older brother instead of the utter disaster Pyrrha knew he was.

It didn’t help that he was always helping them treat their wounds with a wave at a hand, his Semblance actually making some Ms. Goodwitch’s classes more… wilder because of it.

Pyrrha wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Then there was the Weiss situation.

Which was… odd.

Because Weiss Schnee had never cared about Jaune Arc before.

Sure, she tolerated him, maybe respected him a little after the dance, but she had never engaged with him beyond what was necessary.

Now?

Now she was bantering with him.

And Pyrrha hated how natural it looked.

“I still don’t understand how you convinced Port to let you skip his lecture,” Weiss huffed as they walked.

Jaune grinned, completely unfazed. “Weiss, you have to understand, Professor Port and I had simply talked.“

Weiss rolled her eyes. “That is an absolute lie.“

“And yet, he let me go.“

“Because you bribed him.“

“Because I gave him a wonderful conversation over a hearty meal,” Jaune corrected, smirking slightly.

“That is the definition of bribery!” Weiss snapped.

“Only if you look at it that way.“

Pyrrha watched the exchange unfold, baffled.

Because since when was this a thing?!

Jaune and Weiss did not banter.

They did not tease each other with perfectly balanced irritation like they were actually fine with each other.

And yet, here they were.

Casually arguing like old friends.

Like they understood each other.

Like Jaune wasn’t the same idiot who once flirted with her without a plan or backup strategy.

As if she didn’t look at him like an insect crawling at her.

Weiss, looking mildly bothered, finally scowled at him. “You are infuriating.“

Jaune chuckled, adjusting his gloves. “I know.“

And then Weiss—Weiss Schnee, who should have stormed off by now—just huffed in exasperation and continued walking with him instead of leaving.

Pyrrha felt a migraine forming.

Jaune had changed.

She had known that.

She had seen it in battle.

The way he moved was efficient, practiced, composed.

The way he spoke was confident, yet effortless.

The way he handled himself, like someone who had been through far more than he let on.

And yet…

This was the first time Pyrrha felt like she didn’t fully understand him.

The way he charmed older women without thinking about it.

The way the first-years idolized him.

The way Weiss now argued with him like it was normal.

It wasn’t bad—in fact, on paper, it was great.

But to her?

It felt like she was watching someone she knew slip away.

And Pyrrha didn’t know why that bothered her so much.

Pyrrha Nikos did not mess up.

She was composed. She was trained. She was disciplined.

And yet—

Her spear missed its mark.

Her footwork, normally flawless, stuttered.

And that was all it took.

Jaune Arc, the same Jaune Arc she had once painstakingly trained, immediately capitalized on the opening.

Before she could fully recover, his sword was already pressing against her throat.

A perfect, clean victory.

Silence followed.

Then—

Jaune grinned. “Pyrrha, are you off your game?“

Pyrrha, still processing her failure, opened her mouth to respond—

But Jaune wasn’t done talking.

He sheathed his sword, tilting his head at her with that irritatingly easy smirk. “Should I be honored that you’re distracted? Or insulted that you didn’t think I was worth focusing on?“

Pyrrha blinked.

Then she processed what he had just said.

And froze.

Because that—that sounded a little too much like flirting.

Pyrrha scolded herself internally. No, he wasn’t flirting. He was just teasing. That’s all.

Jaune tilted his head further, watching her closely. “You good?“

Pyrrha straightened, clearing her throat. “I’m fine.“

Jaune grinned again. “If you say so. Wanna go again?“

Pyrrha nodded immediately. “Yes.“

Because now she had to win.

Jaune took his stance, a far cry from the Jaune Arc she once knew.

Gone was the awkward posture.

Gone was the clumsy grip.

This Jaune held himself like a proper swordsman.

And when he moved—

He moved with purpose.

Pyrrha knew the instant she stepped forward that this wasn’t going to be an easy match.

Jaune raised his sword, shifting into a high guard.

And then—

He struck first.

A diagonal cut from above, measured, precise, dangerous.

Pyrrha parried, stepping to the side.

Jaune immediately followed up with another cut, this time cutting across her blade at an angle, attempting to suppress her weapon.

Pyrrha pivoted, disengaging just in time.

Jaune did not let up.

A quick horizontal cut from above, attempting to break her guard.

Pyrrha ducked under it, rolling to the side.

She had fought Jaune before.

And lately, after adjusting his Crocea Mors, as if he finally got the right balance and weight.

He even got better.

She was on the defensive.

Jaune was faster than before.

Stronger.

Smarter.

He moved with a calm certainty that made it difficult to break through.

But Pyrrha was not out of options.

She adjusted her grip, switching from defensive to aggressive.

Jaune swung again—a  vertical downward cut and Pyrrha sidestepped at the last moment, twisting into his guard.

There.

A tiny gap in his stance.

She struck immediately, her spear aiming for his ribs—

But Jaune saw it coming.

He twisted, shifting his sword into an immediate riposte, catching her spear just in time.

Pyrrha’s eyes widened.

Jaune grinned. “Close.“

Pyrrha gritted her teeth.

The fight continued.

A clash of blade and spear.

A dance of counters, ripostes, and feints.

Jaune was holding his ground.

Pyrrha was trying to break through.

And neither was giving an inch.

Pyrrha found herself grinning despite herself.

Because this—

This was fun.

And she liked the competition.

Pyrrha was winning.

Or at least, she should have been.

She had finally gotten inside Jaune’s guard, finally forced him to move defensively, finally gotten the upper hand—

And then.

Then Jaune Arc had the audacity to smile at her as if glad he could keep up with her now.

Not his usual goofy smile.

Not his awkward grin.

No, this was that smile.

The one that was relaxed, self-assured, and had just enough mature charm to make Pyrrha’s brain completely short-circuit.

“Man,” Jaune mused, brushing dust off his shoulder. “You’re really not going easy on me, huh? Guess I’ll have to step up my game next time. Hmm, I really should stop being rusty…”

Pyrrha opened her mouth to respond.

Nothing came out.

Because she had stupidly gotten caught up in how broad his shoulders looked in this lighting and how damn natural that smirk looked on his face.

Jaune tilted his head. “You okay, Pyrrha?“

Pyrrha immediately looked away. “I-I’m fine!“

She hated this.

Hated that Jaune had somehow—accidentally—become so naturally charming that even Weiss of all people was struggling to keep up her usual smugness when dealing with him.

Speaking of which—

Weiss, who had been standing off to the side, looked vaguely annoyed as she cleared her throat and crossed her arms. “Can you at least pretend to be tired after sparring with Pyrrha?“

Jaune chuckled, running a hand through his hair, sweat gleaming. “Hey, she’s strong, but I’m getting stronger, too.“

Pyrrha’s face burned hotter.

Because now Weiss was looking away too.

Because even Weiss was affected.

Because this was officially unfair.

And then—

The first-years appeared.

“Senpai, that was amazing!“

The group of juniors, mostly from Mistral, waved enthusiastically as they approached, clearly impressed.

One of the girls bounced excitedly. “Jaune-senpai, you kept up with Pyrrha-sama! That was so cool!”

Jaune laughed heartily, rubbing the back of his head. “Aw, c’mon, I still got a long way to go.“

The first-years disagreed.

“You’re so strong!“

“Your footwork was perfect!“

“How do you move so smoothly?!“

Jaune chuckled again, shaking his head. “Well, if you want some advice—“

The juniors leaned in.

Weiss and Pyrrha listened too.

And then—

Jaune spoke with such sincere, mature confidence that the little first-year girls blushed.

“Strength isn’t just about power,” Jaune mused, his voice smooth and assured. “It’s about patience, control, and understanding your own limits before pushing past them. Keep at it, and you’ll surprise yourselves.“

Dead silence as he gave that calm.

The juniors blushed harder.

Pyrrha wanted to scream.

Because this was ridiculous.

Because Jaune had somehow unlocked a charisma stat, he was never supposed to have.

And because Pyrrha realized something truly, deeply unfair—

She was jealous.

Not of the juniors blushing at him.

Not of the attention he was getting.

But because she had hesitated.

She should have confessed at the damn festival.

She should have told him before he found his upgrade button

And now—

Now she had to deal with this absolute menace of a man that he had become everyday.

And Jaune, completely oblivious to her distress, suddenly turned to her with that same easy smirk. “Hey, wanna get some ice cream?“

"Pyrrha's coming with me."

"Huh? I mean, okay? See ya!"

Weiss looked at in pity and took her away.

Leaving Jaune tilting his head, then escaping as Ren and Sun flashed him a hand sign.