It had been a couple of days now and Pyrrha still hadn't taken any one of a hundred chances she had to ask him to the dance. His nightly forays into dreams had been pretty tame of late; he'd been in the dreams of people he didn't know, and he'd done his best to just stay out of it and not interfere too much and woken up with healthy aura reserves as a result. Doctor Oobleck was happy with the progress but Jaune personally thought he was no closer to learning how to activate or deactivate it at will.

He had popped into Amber's dreams once more since then, a dream in which he and her just spent time together at a country inn of sorts. Nothing weird happened. They showed up, ate, talked, and rented two different rooms and he'd woken up at the same time he "fell asleep" in the dream. He still wasn't sure why everyone else's dreams were nightmares but hers were perfectly normal. Unless she had social anxiety worse than Ruby and the thought of eating dinner with a man was enough to count as a nightmare. He somehow doubted it.

After several days of making hints about the dance – up to and including complaining to Nora, within Pyrrha's hearing, that he didn't think anyone would want to go to the dance with him – he was starting to wonder if he hadn't misread Pyrrha's feelings entirely. The way she kept smiling when he expressed concern about the odds of having a date; the way she would respond by saying she didn't have one either, but then not show any interest in them fixing that issue together.

It had gotten to the point where he genuinely felt awkward bringing it up because he was worried Nora had figured it out and was feeling sorry for him – she was certainly shooting Pyrrha enough looks to imply some degree of irritation, and he didn't want Nora getting upset with Pyrrha or pressuring her into something she didn't want. So, he stopped. Oobleck's idea had just been that and he hadn't even been in Pyrrha's dream, so there was a good chance he was just wrong.

Pyrrha hadn't reacted to that either. There had been no negative or positive response to him stopping talking about the dance. Instead, they just carried on like normal, talking, being friends, and with her taking him up to the roof every night for one-on-one training. When transfers started piling into Beacon, he stopped worrying about it and started worrying about the sudden addition of so many other dreams to tumble into instead.

He wanted to be prepared for that, and Oobleck was busy, so he took to spending his afternoons, in between lessons and training with Pyrrha, at Beacon's library where he could go over books on psychology. They didn't always cover dreams but they did cover a lot of theories on how the mind worked, which was at least related in some way.

It was there that Blake found him. The faunus member of Team RWBY, though you wouldn't have known it with her bow back on, regarded him oddly from the narrow crook he'd found to read with a book propped on his knee. She had one as well, though he was sure from the cover that it was not something the school would ever stock in its library.

"That looks like heavy reading," said Blake, noting the thick tome in his lap.

"Uh. Yeah. I'm trying to expand my horizons. You come to read?"

"That is what a library is for."

Har de har. Jaune rolled his eyes at the stupid answer to a stupid question. He was a little surprised when Blake came and took the seat next to him but it wasn't like there were a lot of seats and tables available anyway. More students meant more people fighting for space. Blake seemed content to read in silence so he shrugged and went back to his box, not bothering to talk at all. He assumed that would be the end of it. Blake had never been the most sociable member of Team RWBY and he didn't think she'd ever sought a member of his team out just to chat.

"Parataxic distortions," said Blake, reading off his page. "Are you actually reading that? I've never even heard of such a thing before."

Left unsaid was the subtly implied suggestion that she didn't think he would have either. Which he supposed she was right on. He'd never been much of a book person before and this would have been well beyond his interest if not for his current situation. Being unwillingly sucked into people's heads had given him a good reason to start caring about psychology.

"A parataxic distortion is when you see someone in a way they're not because of assumptions or preconceptions on your part. It's like how people assume Pyrrha is arrogant and snooty because of her fame, or how I saw Weiss as a perfect angel because I had feelings for her."

"Had?"

"Have," he admitted. "But I'm dealing with them."

"By reading this? I suppose that makes sense. Understanding why you fell in love with her lets you deal with the feelings and make them less magical." Blake was wrong on the reasons but it wasn't a bad guess and he went along with it. "How is it any different to stereotyping, though? The example with Pyrrha could just be people assuming based on stereotypes."

"That's a part of the theory," explained Jaune. "It says here that everyone stereotypes as a matter of normal life. The human brain can't function without stereotyping to some degree."

Blake raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Sure. Think of yourself. Blake Belladonna is a complicated person with seventeen years of life experience. There's no way anyone can properly know you when the meet you because they can't process everything that makes you who they are. Instead, people get a snapshot of you, and they base what they think of you based on stereotypes. The quiet girl who reads and is probably an intellectual; a huntress who would jump into danger; a student who is probably bad with money."

"I'm not all those things."

"And Yang isn't a complete airhead who likes to party and never does her homework but that's still how people will stereotype her at first. I bet you did, too." He caught her eyes glancing away and chuckled. "I knew it. Don't worry, it's normal. The idea is that you stereotype at first but then get to know someone as you spend time with them. You get closer to the people immediately around you, but everyone else – people you don't need to know deeper – are still judged by stereotypes. Weiss' dad, for instance. You hate him for probably good reasons but you know deep inside there's more to him than just a greedy man with poor business practices."

"I suppose..." It sounded like it hurt her to admit it. "Okay, say I believe all that. How is a parataxic-thing different?"

"A parataxic distortion," recited Jaune. "Is different first of all because it's a distortion, which means it's wrong and keeps getting more wrong. You're making it wrong and distorting it. It's also based more on internal fantasy than actual facts. Your feelings for Weiss' dad probably aren't a distortion, for instance, because you know for a fact he does those things." Blake nodded in acceptance. "Whereas someone hating Pyrrha and saying she's an arrogant bitch because they're jealous of her would be a distortion because they're not basing it on reality but on their own feelings. They're letting their own negative feelings warp what she is because it makes it easier for them to justify disliking her. Otherwise, they'd feel bad about feeling that way."

"I see." Blake nodded her head slowly. "So, in your example with Weiss you saw her as perfect not because of anything she said or did, but because you fantasised this ideal image of her in your head and kept feeing into it."

"Exactly. And the image I had of Weiss kept distorting further and further from reality. That's just one example, though. And it's not always bad. There are theories that the distortions might be useful as defence mechanisms, or even letting people stay together when they'd probably break up otherwise. A certain amount of distortion is fine if it lets you ignore the flaws of a loved one because you love them, for instance. Otherwise, we'd only be able to stay with people who are literally 100% perfect for us."

"Aren't defence mechanisms a bad thing?"

"They're usually seen as such but they're not always. The brain gets hit with a lot of stuff and sometimes you need those mechanisms to help you process or deal with trauma, pain, or negative stimulus. They can get bad, though. That's usually when you start relying on them instead of trying to get better. I guess the example there would be if you'd refused to accept Weiss' apology and just kept calling her racist because believing her to be that made you feel better about your own problems."

"Interesting." Blake didn't look offended, likely because he'd made it clear he thought she was beyond that problem. "I didn't realise you had such an interest in psychology."

"Ah. Well..."

He couldn't really explain that in a satisfactory manner, could he? All this stuff was downright useless for him normally, but it was helping him understand his Semblance. Reading over this had him realising that Weiss' nightmare might well have been a parataxic distortion with regards to her father. He had probably never said those things, or at least not in those ways, but she distorted him in her head and transferred those thoughts and feelings onto him because they were representations of her own thoughts and fears.

In reality, Weiss might well have completely earned her singing career on her own. In reality, her father might not have had to do much at all. But if people could always see reality then things like anxiety, depression, and other mental health problems wouldn't exist. It must have been a contentious point in Weiss' mind that she wondered, deep inside, just how much of her achievements were her own, and how much were due to nepotism. Everyone would want to get on the good side of the richest man on Remnant after all, and it was well-known that children of richer parents tended to land acting jobs much more easily than those from other backgrounds.

The bigger question was how he could help her, and if he should at all! Weiss' doubts and problems were her own, and if she wanted to share them with a therapist then great – but he shouldn't come and drag them out into the light just because of one dream. It might be that she was totally fine with it all and that dream only came up because it got dredged up by the Blake issue. He could make things worse if he dove right in.

It was also a wake up call for himself because he, whether he liked to admit it or not, had put all the people he knew into convenient little boxes as well. He'd labelled Yang as some infallibly brave party girl with no real problems and no real troubles, never once considering her past or how she had to grow up fast to look after Ruby. He'd assumed Nora was unfalteringly happy all the time, unable to even feel unhappy, and yet he'd seen that she had nightmares of being surrounded by Grimm in an impossible battle. Blake, Weiss, Ruby, all of them. He'd created images of them in his head that didn't match who they really were, and he'd let his own insecurities and doubts distort those images to make himself feel better or excuse his actions.

Since he'd got to see them in a deeper and more intimate way – without their consent, no less – he'd realised just how nuanced they all were, and those parataxic distortions he'd created of them in his head were falling apart. It was a good thing, but it still made him feel bad for having formed them in the first place, and he wondered if he'd done it as a means of putting them down to make himself feel better. It wasn't so dissimilar from how Cardin put faunus down, or liked beating on others, to make himself feel strong. Even that was probably to make up for some perceived self-weakness or sense of helplessness that Cardin harboured deep inside. Man, this psych stuff was going straight to his head.

"Jaune?" asked Blake.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I've been lost in my own thoughts a lot lately. This is pretty heavy stuff."

Blake hummed, eyed the book, and then eyed him. There was something unfamiliar in her eyes. "Are you... doing okay?"

"What?"

"Even Weiss admits you've become a lot more mature lately. I was just wondering if that wasn't because you were... well..." The eyes shifted to the book once more, and then met his. "If you weren't dealing with something you felt uncomfortable with."

Jaune's breath caught in his throat.

Had Blake figured it out? She looked away uncomfortably.

"I know we're not fast friends or anything, but I've heard that can help sometimes and you have helped my team in the past. I'm happy to listen if you're having issues with Beacon or struggling to come to terms with your feelings over Weiss."

His what-now? Oh. OH! Blake hadn't caught onto his Semblance at all, but she'd jumped to an altogether worse conclusion: that he was suffering a mental health crisis or heartbroken over Weiss and trying to self-diagnose and treat himself.

"No, no, no. I'm fine. This isn't... This isn't for me! Well, I mean, it is, but not in the way that I have a problem." He couldn't tell if she believed him or not, and oh wow that unfamiliar look had actually been concern. He could scarcely believe it. "This is part of me wanting to get better at understanding people. I'm trying to learn how to help people."

"As a therapist?"

"More as a team leader. Looking after my team's mental health and all."

"Your team seems fine."

"Yeah, but if that ever changes then I'd like to be on top of it."

"If it changes? Like us, I'm guessing." Blake winced, and then glowered at him. "I can't believe our team is serving as an example on how not to handle team cohesion. I suppose we deserve that after what happened."

"Are things okay between you and Weiss? There aren't any lingering arguments, are there?"

It was Blake's turn to smile. "No. We're fine. Maybe I was distorting Weiss in my head as well. Listening to her – actually listening and not just making assumptions – has shown me that some of her feelings for the White Fang were justified. And maybe she was distorting us as well. She had bad experiences in the past and transferred those bad feelings onto other faunus and even me. It's not hard to imagine a lot of that was born from very real fear of terrorists targeting her." Blake chuckled and shook her head. "We were both as bad as one another. Hm. Maybe I should borrow that after you're done with it."

"You're welcome to it. I'm glad to hear things are going well, though."

Blake eyed him oddly. "I can tell. It's a little strange..."

"What is? My concern for my friends?"

"Not that. Just... the intensity of it. You look absolutely relieved that there aren't any issues between us. Physically relieved. Which is fine, I guess, but I never realised mine and Weiss' friendship was such a big deal for you." Her head tilted, and he just knew she was putting her mind to good use trying to piece together the puzzle. "If you were Ruby then I'd understand it because our getting along impacts the team, or if this was Ren and Nora fighting then that would make sense for you. Why is Weiss and me getting along such a big deal for you?"

"B-Because I care?"

"I can tell that. I'm not insulting you, Jaune. I'm honestly... I'm touched that you care so much, but... well..."

"It's weird?"

"Not weird." Her eyes closed. "Okay. Yes, it's a little weird. In a good way? I don't know how to say it. You're sweet with Ruby, like an older brother mixed with a best friend, and I know you'd rush to help her if she was upset. I'm just not sure why you look like you'd come rushing if I was the one upset. It's a bit of a shock to suddenly realise that."

"Didn't that Sun guy do the same?"

"He did but... well..." Blake glanced away awkwardly. "I think we can both say he might have some ulterior motives for that. Not that it cheapens what he did or how much he helped, but it's easy to look at that and say there was his own interest in me guiding him."

That was one way to put it. Relationships were a lot more selfish according to psychology then they sounded, and it made it look bad at first. Friendships were as much about self-benefit as some beautiful and wonderful thing. You benefited from relationships via positive stimulus, being able to confide in someone you trusted, and just from de-stressing. That all made it sound so mercenary but he supposed it wasn't if you really looked into it. A good friend would pick you up when you were down, and you'd do the same to them.

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing or that I think you're weird or have ulterior motives," said Blake. "I'm not even against it. I just... don't really understand why. Or when it happened." She laughed shortly. "And it makes me feel a little bad that you apparently care this much about us but I've never given you the time of day. Now I feel awful."

Blake wasn't suspicious, not yet, but she was interested, and that was dangerous enough. It could turn to suspicion if she started noticing things – and out of everyone who might, she and Ren were at the top of the list of people he didn't want snooping around. They were clever. Not just Yang or Weiss clever, but smart. They were the types to watch and analyse and slowly put the pieces together without once getting distracted.

"Don't worry about it. I guess I'm just empathic. Maybe it's growing up with so many sisters."

"Maybe..."

Blake wasn't buying it. A former terrorist probably would be the suspicious sort.

"I-I need to go. Got training with Pyrrha. And hinting about the dance but I don't think she's all that interested. Ha ha." His words, dribbling out, caused Blake to blink, and even though he hadn't planned it that way they did end up changing the subject.

"Really?"

"Really what?"

"Pyrrha. You've asked her to the dance?"

"No. I... Um. Someone suggested to me that she might have been interested in me." He didn't say who because anyone would want to know why a teacher of all people was talking about that. "So, I decided to be super obvious and keep bringing it up around her to see if she'd take the hint or even so much as look at me like she wanted me to ask her to go."

"And she didn't?" asked Blake.

"Not once. No reaction."

"Hm." Blake leaned back herself and tilted her head to the side. "I would have thought... Never mind. Well, if Pyrrha isn't going to take the hint then you know who you could ask to the dance and who would probably say yes, don't you?"

"Ruby?"

Blake blinked again, and then laughed. "Okay, yes, you could ask Ruby and she'd say yes but you'd be going as friends. I meant Yang."

Jaune stared at her. "What...?"

"Yang would probably say yes if you asked her," explained Blake, patiently and slowly. That was good because he was having trouble processing it. "I'm not saying she loves you or wants to become Mrs Arc or anything, but you get on, she at least likes hanging around you, and you're quite similar in a lot of ways."

"Similar. You mentioned that before. How opposites don't really attract very often. Are Yang and I even remotely alike?"

"You share the same career aspirations; you're both melee fighters; you're both friendly and mostly outgoing; you like guitar and she loves dancing; you both like joking around; you both take school seriously but not as slavishly as some others do..."

"But I'm a nerd who likes comics."

"And Yang plays videogames with Ruby all the time. And similar doesn't mean you have to share the same hobbies; the key thing, I think, is that none of those things you have that are unique would be seen as a negative thing to the other person. Yang might not like comics but she isn't going to care that you do. Not when Ruby does. And if you don't like motorbikes then she isn't going to be bothered as long as you don't try and stop her liking them."

He guessed she had a point there. It probably helped people to share similar interests for small talk, but if you were identical then it would get boring. Small differences were inevitable, but if they were problematic then you were staring on the back foot. A good example of that might be Blake liking peaceful reading alone and Sun being an in-your-face kind of guy. That could lead to disagreement or arguments on how to spend their free time. Nothing big in the grand scheme of things, but a thorn in a relationship. Something that could annoy given enough time. Well, unless they addressed it and found a way around it like mature adults.

"Plus," teased Blake. "You both have this must protect Ruby thing going on that is simultaneously worrying and hilarious."

"I do not."

"Jaune, you're like the older brother Ruby never asked for, and Yang loves it. You're the break from being the elder sibling she needs. Yang doesn't have to worry that you'll have an issue with her sister hanging around with you both. A lot of guys would get annoyed at the little sister tagging along. Again, I'm not saying you should ask her to marry you, but going to the dance together is hardly a commitment. You show up, you dance, you drink and you hang out. It's no different to what I'll be doing with Sun."

He guessed that was true. As a guy – well, as a romantically unsuccessful guy – he'd always put a lot more emphasis on things like this, but maybe that was his problem. Maybe he'd gone too far. Instead of asking to spend time with Weiss, he'd asked her to be his girlfriend. Even this guy she was going with had only invited her to the dance, not on a date or for an official relationship status.

"Huh. Do you really think Yang would say yes?"

"I'd give it an 80% likelihood," offered Blake. "You'd be surprised how many people aren't asking her out because they feel like they wouldn't have a chance with her. Give it some thought. But if you do then don't push or be weird. Just ask her to the dance and let anything that happens happen." Blake stood. "My advice. Free of charge. Consider it a thank you for being so concerned for my sake, even if you didn't have to be."

He watched Blake go and settled back down with a relieved sigh. The news on Yang was a shock for sure, even if it only equated to a maybe on going to the dance together. Were he and Yang really that alike? He would have said no before, but he supposed they were more alike than Yang and Ren or Yang and Cardin. He was probably the closest to being like her out of their friendship circle, excepting maybe Nora, but then even Nora only really connected with Yang over enjoying a good fight. He and Yang regularly teased Ruby together.

Maybe I should consider it. I'll give Pyrrha a few more chances but if she isn't interested then I guess I'll give it a shot with Yang. Who knows? Maybe something will come of it. And if not then at least I won't be going to the dance alone.

If nothing else, the two of them could have fun.

/-/

He was in a fancy house.

Rich, large, well-decorated. It reminded him of Weiss' that he'd caught a glimpse of in her dream, but not quite as large and quite a bit darker in terms of décor. The floor was richly carpeted and the walls were spotless clean. There was darkness behind him and a light ahead, coming from under the frame of a door to a room. As dreams went, the hint was clear. Jaune moved toward the light and reached for the handle, opening it with a soft creak.

A small girl with brown hair and brown eyes looked up at him from the building blocks she'd been playing with. Another child in a dream? If these were my dreams then I'd start to really worry. He didn't recognise the girl. Obviously, no one at Beacon looked like they had at however old she was but he didn't even recognise the hair and eye colour. Velvet had brown and brown but faunus ears, and this girl had no such features. Coco, maybe? It was kind of hard to imagine the fashionable and confident woman looking like this but then maybe she hadn't always been that way.

"Hey," said Jaune, not wanting to set her to panicking. "I'm... uh. I'm a little lost. Are your parents around?"

The small girl shook her head. Placing her age was difficult; she could have been anywhere between six and ten, and she was small. Downright petite. Her brown hair fell down over her shoulders to the middle of her back. Suddenly, the girl smiled, and slapped the floor in front of her with a hand. Her brown eyes sparkled as they locked onto his. Having grown up with sisters, some younger, he caught the meaning.

"You want me to play, huh? I suppose I can."

This was obviously the dreamer and the last few child-based dreams he'd had all involved horror themes and something going wrong to scare them, so maybe him being here as a supportive older brother figure would calm her down. It worked for Velvet.

"So, what's your name?"

The girl kept smiling but didn't answer. He let it go, assuming she was taking the "don't talk to strangers" rule to the letter and not the spirit. You weren't supposed to invite strangers to play building blocks with you either, but this was a dream and he didn't want to come down too hard on her. He wasn't going to give his name if she wouldn't, though. In fact, maybe this was for the best. He wouldn't have to worry about whose secrets he'd inadvertently intruded on, and she wouldn't run into a recollection moment when she heard his name like Velvet had.

"What are we building, then? Any goal in mind?"

The blocks she was working with weren't the baby ones with ABC written on them and they weren't the complicated ones some adults used to make collector's sets either. They were halfway between, with large connecting points and bright colours. Big enough to not be easily swallowed, but too big to make spaceships or other complicated stuff like some people did. Normally, they were sold in boxsets designed to make one specific thing like a castle, a dust shop, a house, or a car. He'd even seen ones for mechashift weapons that could fire little plastic bullets with low velocity. Here, however, she had a clear plastic bucket of assorted blocks, likely from several boxsets pooled together, and that meant they had to use their imagination. His new "friend" smiled and pulled out a children's colouring book with a nastily ripped corner. Upon the front cover was a fairy tale castle.

"Yikes. Not starting small, are we? Okay, we can try. I see you're working from the bottom up. How many spires are we having?" The girl held up two fingers proudly, and then pointed at herself. "Both for you? Don't I get a tower to sleep in?"

She tilted her head to the side, pondered, and then held up a third finger. That was good of her. He assumed the other tower was for her parents. He got to work building some of the spires, which were a little harder for her due to their sloped rooftops. The girl was fine building square foundations and making the walls higher, even if she was realistically just making a tall rectangle on the floor.

When he finished one spire, he laid it down in front of her and got to work on a second, making it shorter. She was suitably impressed by his offering, turning it over in her hands before smiling adorably at him. Whoever this is, they were a cute kid. I guess that doesn't narrow it down any, though. A person could change a lot from this age to when they enter Beacon. It could also be some third or fourth year girl he'd just never met. Hell, it could be Glynda Goodwitch for all he knew, though he highly doubted she used contacts and hair dye.

They finished the rather rudimentary castle in what felt like a good half an hour, and he didn't even have to tweak the dream to make it more realistic. The young girl was happy just having something to play with. Or maybe she was happy having someone to play with. He was more experienced than most when it came to playing with younger siblings, and made sure to sprinkle in some praise, commentary, and jokes to have her smiling throughout.

That's me. Jaune Arc. Dream babysitter extraordinaire. Actually, if I could learn to control this then I bet I could make a killing offering tailored dreams to people. I could let people explore their wildest dreams and fantasies or let them interact with memories of their loves ones who have passed on.

He could well imagine people paying for that. Then again, he could also imagine a lot of weirdos wanting him to help manufacture dreams of a more "troublesome" nature for them involving celebrities and figures they wouldn't normally have any chance with. Then there was the risk of his well-meaning actions leaving someone feeling happier in their dreams than real life. That wasn't going to be healthy.

The door behind them clicked open. Jaune turned, unsure what he expected. If this were real life then he'd say parents, but he was half-expecting a monster since this was meant to be a nightmare. Instead, what he got was another young girl, almost a twin of the first but for shockingly bright pink hair and eyes of the same colour. A sibling. An odd hair colour, but he'd seen odder. Ruby's natural hair being two-tone was a good example.

"Hey there," said Jaune, with a smile. "We were just building a castle. Do you want to join in?"

The new girl's lips drew into a smile – or more of a grin. He also caught, from the corner of his eye, the desperate headshaking of the first. The raw panic in her eyes. The newcomer rushed forward, eyes sparkling and teeth bared, and he'd been around enough kids to know where this was going. Her foot came back, ready to kick the castle and destroy it, while the first girl cried out silently.

Jaune was quicker than a child, though. Especially when this was a dream and he could influence it. The girl's foot sailed through the air over the castle's spire, narrowly missing it, as Jaune picked her up with a hand under each armpit.

There was a moment of stunned silence from both girls.

The brunette on the floor looked up at him as if he'd done something impossible. Her eyes were so wide he was afraid they might fall out her head. Her mouth was open even wider, registering absolute shock.

The pinkette in his hands looked back over her shoulder with complete disbelief, as if she couldn't believe what he'd done, or that he had off the floor like this. She paused, blinked several times, and then flailed and kicked angrily, tossing her head left and right.

The brunette dove for the castle and wrapped her arms around it protectively, drawing it close and pouting at her sister. They weren't the best of friends, then, or at least they argued like siblings often did. Jaune sighed and kept the pink twin aloft, even as she tried desperately to work a foot back into his stomach, groin, or wherever she could reach.

"Stop that now," said Jaune. He sat down and forcefully pushed her down so she was sat between his legs, practically in his lap. He kept his hands on her shoulders. "You shouldn't destroy something your sister worked so hard on."

The brunette nodded quickly but the pinkette snarled and drove an elbow into Jaune's gut. It wouldn't have hurt much even if this weren't a dream, but inside one he barely felt a thing and kept hold of her. She squirmed and wriggled and tried to break free but his arms might as well have been steel bars to her. Eventually, she huffed and sat still, tired out from all her struggles. Her head tilted back and she glared unhappily at him.

"Be nice to your sister," he told her. "If you want to kick something down then let it be something you've made. Not her." The girl was clearly against the idea, shoulders rising and falling in an explosive huff. "Now, if you'll be good..."

The pinkette nodded but he still saw the brunette shaking her head, and she knew her sister better than he did. Jaune hummed, caught. He couldn't very well refuse now that she'd promised to be on her best behaviour, but he also didn't want to let her cause her sister any grief. The one dreaming is obviously the brunette so I suppose this nightmare was a case of bullying from her sister. Makes sense. Maybe they grew even further apart as they got older.

"You promise you'll be good?"

Pink eyes sparkled up at him.

"And you won't make your sister sad by breaking her things?"

Her pink hair flapped as she shook her head from side to side. He wasn't convinced.

"I'm warning you. I'll be very upset if you act out after I'm giving you some trust."

The puppy-dog eyes returned.

Jaune let her go.

The moment he did, she was out his hands and off his lap and halfway across the room, teeth flashing as she closed in on an expensive-looking vase. The brunette cried out silently, obviously terrified of what would happen if they broke something so expensive. She needn't have worried. Her sister slapped a hand on it and pushed it down but Jaune was there, already having started moving the moment she did, and quite a bit faster at that. He caught it in one hand, registered the pink eyes widening, and then caught her with his other. He swept her up and over his shoulder so her face fell down his back, and he ignored the way her hands beat furiously down his spine.

"No!" snapped Jaune, setting the vase back. "That's naughty!"

The brunette flinched.

"Not you," he said, and she looked surprised. Hopeful. Was she the type who always got blamed by her sister? Or maybe their parents were the kind who punished both kids at once. His parents would never do that. "You've been a good girl," he reiterated, and she smiled gingerly, almost nervously. Her hands settled on her little castle again. "That's it. You can play with that – you made it after all. Your sister, on the other hand, is going to be sitting in timeout."

He sat again, and this time locked the girl in place on his lap. She flailed and elbowed and kicked and flung her head back to try and hit his jaw, but he ignored it all. He didn't even need to use his aura. He just linked both hands around her stomach and let her exhaust herself against him, all the while her gentler sister played with her castle, picking up some little dolls and mimicking them waking around and over the walls.

If that was all she wanted from her dream then that was what he would give her. He kept hold of her troublemaking sister and locked her in place, distracting her by playing with her hair and forcefully reading her a book while her lovely sister played at being a princess. The dream ended with the sound of a car crunching along gravel outside the room, and the brunette's face turning toward the window as light beamed in. There was the clap of a door closing, the turning of a key in the lock, and then a woman's voice.

"Trivia, I'm home-"

The dream washed out.

/-/

Jaune was feeling nervous. For a whole load of reasons, and for once they weren't related to his Semblance or a lack of aura. He'd come out of last night's dream feeling pretty much fine, but then it didn't take much aura to keep a small child from causing trouble. No, his nerves were for an altogether different set of reasons, and most of those related to the butterflies squirming in his stomach at that moment. He was glad he'd broken off from his team for this. He'd always done it in public before, in front of everyone, but he'd learned his mistake there.

"Hey Yang. Hey Weiss." Jaune approached the duo with a wave. They were working on prep for the dance. He personally thought it ridiculous first years should be given this but knowing Weiss she probably volunteered. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you, Yang. In private."

Weiss didn't look up but did wave her hand. "Take her, please, before she tries to force more ridiculous ideas upon this event."

"Ridiculous? Weiss, you wanted a string orchestra. That's ridiculous!"

"It's a dance. They need music to dance to."

"That's not the ridiculous part!" groaned Yang. "We need modern music. You're turning a school dance into an old folk's home. If this continues then I'll have to walk in carrying a boombox just to save the mood."

"Classical music is not only for the elderly!"

"It mostly is," whispered Jaune.

"No one asked you! Go take Yang and stop distracting me. I'll be in your debt if you can lose her somewhere along the way."

Yang rolled her eyes and disengaged from the table, waving him over and outside into the corridor. She grinned despite the disagreement, and he hoped she would keep that up and fight back against Weiss' well-meaning but odd ideas of a school dance. "We're not really going to have an orchestra, are we?"

"No," said Yang. "Not unless it's over my dead body. Anyway, what's up?"

Good question. He didn't know how to answer it. Or rather, he didn't know how to find the right words or what he ought to say. It had seemed so obvious with Weiss, but then he'd made mistake after mistake with her as well. It might be best to take what he usually did and invert it. Go a full 180 and do the opposite.

"Has anyone asked you to the dance yet?"

Yang's eyes widened briefly. They narrowed after, becoming lidded as she rocked back on her heels with her hands behind her. "Mmmm. Not yet." she said, not teasing, but sounding very pointed in her answer. There was a certain forced quality to her stance, like she was holding herself perfectly still. "Why?"

She knew why. Yang wasn't dumb and he wasn't subtle. He almost wanted to ask why she bothered to say it like that, but he thought he could understand after seeing her dreams. Yang didn't want to be the one to make the first move because she was afraid of being stood up, or of seeming too pushy and being left behind. Her nightmare had involved her teammates forgetting her when they were meant to go for a night out, and then again with her uncle forgetting her.

In both, she'd been an afterthought. Which she wasn't in real life, obviously, but a person's fears and doubts weren't always rooted in reality. They were distorted, just like the theories said. People catastrophized and made things worse in their own heads, going through all the ways an interaction might go wrong until they'd thoroughly trashed their own confidence and gave up before ever trying. He did it too sometimes, and even the healthiest of people could feel doubt when it came to new experiences.

It was always safer to play dumb and let the other person come out and say it, because then you could go along with it without having to worry about making a fool of yourself. If Yang teased about him asking her out, and against all odds he didn't, then she'd feel stupid. It would embarrass her and stick in her head all day, and she'd be wringing herself inside out from sheer cringe value. It was kind of how he'd not had the guts to just ask Pyrrha if she was interested in him, and instead had hit her with hint after hint after hint.

Including this morning. He'd told his whole team that if he didn't get asked to the dance by noon, he'd go out and find someone to ask. It had been a final hint, a final chance, and Pyrrha smiled and told him she believed in him – the same as she had whenever he asked Weiss out in the past. That was proof enough to him that she wasn't interested. Or at least proof enough that she wasn't going to ask him if she was, and that was pretty much the same thing. With a deep breath, Jaune took the plunge so Yang wouldn't have to.

"Will you go to the dance with me?"

Yang wasn't surprised by the question. "Are you asking me for a date or asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"For a date." He knew it was the right answer when the tension bled out of her. "I like to think we get on but I think that would be moving a little fast, even if Ruby would probably be all for it at this point."

"Hah." laughed Yang, grinning. Talk about Ruby was always an easy way to break the ice with her. "She would at that, wouldn't she? Yeah, all right. I'll go with you. I'm stuck manning the front entrance for the first half-hour though, so I won't be able to show with you. Unless you want to come early and walk there together?"

He'd done it. He had a date to the dance. Jaune felt elation burst through him, but he did his best not to overreact. A smile was fine – good, even, to show he was happy – but he had a feeling singing and dancing would be a major turn-off for her. And an embarrassment. "I'm happy to walk you there if you like. I'm sure Ruby can keep me company while you're working."

"Going to dance with her?"

"I might," he said. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course, but only if you agree to dance with her after I'm free as well. I made her promise she'd get at least one dance done and I categorically refuse to let that happen when I'm not there to watch and take photos."

Poor Ruby. Jaune had to laugh. "My date is whoring me out to her sister. That's nice."

"I'm an entrepreneurial girl," said Yang, laughing along. Maybe Blake was right about them not being so dissimilar. That joke probably would have fallen flat with anyone else. He didn't know if that was enough for romance and he had a feeling pushing that would be a poor idea anyway. It was enough for him to be sure they'd have fun, though. "I'm kinda glad you asked me though," she said. "No one else has."

"They're intimidated by how good you look."

"Yeah, well, they shouldn't be. It's messed up if huntsmen are afraid of me but not Grimm. If they are at all." Yang looked away and brushed some hair from before her face. "I'm hot but I'm not that hot. And it was getting kind of rough knowing both Weiss and Blake got dates before me. If Ruby went and got one before me as well then I'd have locked myself in the bathroom to cry."

"I don't think you'd have done that."

"Well, not cry," admitted Yang, winking. "But I'd have had the biggest sulk you've ever seen. It would have been passive-aggressive Yang to the max for the next few days."

"That sounds more like it. But I'm sure someone would have asked you."

"I don't know," said Yang. "There's been plenty of opportunities."

"Why didn't you ask someone, then?"

"Ahh. Well. You know..." Yang laughed, but it was awkward. Stilted. "I guess I'm an old-fashioned type who thinks it's better to be asked than ask." He didn't believe that, but he'd seen a far less confident version of Yang in her own mind and he could take a guess as to why she hadn't wanted to take that leap. "Hey, by the way," she said. "Do you realise you've got a stalker?"

He blinked, then sighed. "Nora?"

Yang smirked. "She'd totally be the type to watch you ask someone out like a proud parent, wouldn't she? But no. Not unless Nora has dyed her hair pure black and put it into pigtails. There's this girl down the corridor watching you like a hawk. Don't look!" Her hands caught his cheeks and stopped him turning. Yang kept his face on hers. "You'll scare her off. Short, shorter than Ruby, with black hair, green eyes. There she goes. Saw me looking and slipped away." Yang released him. "No one you recognise?"

Black hair and pigtails? No. And not even from any of the dreams he'd been in over the last few days. Black hair was fairly distinctive, even on a child, and he felt confident saying the only person he'd seen like that was Blake. "No. Must be a transfer."

"Maybe she liked what she saw and wanted to ask you out to the dance," said Yang.

"Out of nowhere? Without even knowing me?"

"Stranger things have happened. Too bad for her, though." Yang winked at him. "You're stuck with me now. Meet at our dorm at six and don't be late."

The way she said it was teasing, but he'd been in her dream, and he made a promise to be early or dead. No in between. He wouldn't leave Yang propped up against a wall dreading whether he'd show up or not. He couldn't, and wouldn't, put her through that.

"I'll be there. You can count on that."